Page 41 of A Kiss of Deception

Meetha straightens up, her eyes never leaving the man's face. "Oh, I know all sorts of things. Like how she just turned sixteen last month. And how she's been sneaking out at night to meet that boy from the blacksmith's shop."

I watch, transfixed, as Meetha's eyes flash with an otherworldly light. The air around her shimmers and warps. Aswirling vortex of energy materializes beside her, crackling with power that makes my demonic skin tingle.

Without a word, Meetha steps through the portal, disappearing from view. The man on the floor lets out a strangled cry, reaching out as if to stop her, but his hand passes through empty air.

Seconds stretch into an eternity. The crowd holds its breath, frozen in anticipation. I can hear the rapid heartbeats of the humans around me, smell their fear and confusion.

Then, just as suddenly as she vanished, Meetha reappears. But she's not alone.

Clinging to her arm is a young girl, no more than sixteen. Her wide eyes dart around the room, confusion and fear evident on her delicate features. She's the spitting image of her father, with the same thick, dark hair and high cheekbones.

"Lila!" the man on the floor cries out, his voice cracking with desperation.

The girl's head snaps towards the sound. Her eyes widen in recognition, then narrow in confusion.

"Jarvil?" Lila's voice wavers. "What... what are you doing here? Why are you on the floor?" Her gaze flicks between her father's bloodied face and Meetha's triumphant smirk. Realization dawns, and she shrinks back. "What's going on?"

Meetha's lips curl into a predatory smile as she runs her fingers along the girl's arm. Her touch is light, almost tender, but there's an undercurrent of danger that makes my blood sing.

"Such soft skin," Meetha purrs, her eyes never leaving the man's face. "So young, so… innocent."

I can't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. The raw fear emanating from both father and daughter is intoxicating, and I find myself moving closer, drawn in by the promise of chaos and pain.

Meetha's hand slides up Lila's arm, across her shoulder, and comes to rest at the base of her throat. The touch is possessive, a clear threat that has the girl’s father trembling.

20

MILKOR

"Pretend she's me," Meetha whispers in my ear, her voice a sultry purr that sends shivers down my spine. "Let your mind believe she's my twin, that there are two of me for your pleasure."

I swallow hard, my gaze traveling over the girl's form. She's a mirror image of Meetha, with the same dark eyes, the same lush curves. The illusion is intoxicating, and despite the twisted game, my body responds with an eager hunger.

Meetha's hands roam over the girl's body, her touch confident and sure. She kisses the girl deeply, and I can see the tremble in the girl's lips give way to a desperate need. Meetha breaks the kiss, turning to me with a wicked grin.

"See?" she says, her fingers trailing down the girl's cheek. "She's just as eager as I am."

I step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. The girl's breath hitches as I draw near, her eyes locked onto mine. I can feel the heat of Meetha's gaze on us, watching, waiting.

As I lean in, my lips brush against the girl's, and for a moment, I allow myself to believe Meetha's lie. I kiss her with afervor that borders on desperation, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine.

The world around me blurs into a haze of pleasure as I feel Meetha's lips wrap around my cock, her mouth a hot, wet paradise that threatens to unravel my very sanity. The sensation is overwhelming, a torrent of ecstasy that courses through my veins like liquid fire.

I'm kneeling on the plush cushions, the daughter's body pressed against mine, our lips locked in a passionate kiss that mirrors the one Meetha bestows upon my aching member. The girl's hips grind against my hand, seeking friction, as I plunge my fingers into her slick heat, her moans muffled by our kiss.

The dual sensations of Meetha's mouth on my cock and the daughter's eager response to my touch are almost too much to bear. I can feel the pressure building within me, a storm of pleasure that threatens to sweep away all rational thought.

Meetha's eyes meet mine, her gaze dark with lust and power. She's orchestrating this symphony of desire, her magic weaving an erotic spell that ensnares us all. The daughter whimpers against my lips, her body shuddering as I curve my fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot that elicits a cry of pure need.

I break the kiss, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I watch Meetha slide her lips up and down my shaft, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside. The sight of her, so wanton and uninhibited, pushes me closer to the brink.

The room spins as Meetha releases me from the sweet torment of her mouth. She lies back on the cushions, her body a feast for the senses, and I can't help but drink in the sight of her, wild and untamed. Her eyes lock onto mine, a silent command that sets my blood aflame.

She beckons the daughter, who hesitates for a fraction of a second before moving toward us, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. Meetha guides her, positioning her so thatshe straddles her face, and I watch, transfixed, as the young woman's eyes flutter shut, her body trembling with anticipation.

The image is surreal, a living tableau of carnal desires that defies all logic and reason. Meetha's hands grip the daughter's hips, pulling her down onto her waiting mouth, and the daughter's gasp of pleasure echoes through the room, a testament to Meetha's skilled tongue.

I am captivated by the sight of them, the rhythmic undulation of their bodies moving in a primal dance as old as time. Meetha's hand reaches out for me, her fingers wrapping around my straining cock.

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