Page 86 of In Love with the Devil

“Oh, Julian,” she breathed heavily while holding on to me, squeezing my shoulder as if she was scared she’d swoon into oblivion if she released it.

With just two pumps, she came hard, squeezing my fingers with incredible force. I’d never heard or seen her need me to fuck her so much. I lifted her top leg onto my hips, fucked and sucked her hard, wanting to hear those cries and pleadings, and she came twice more. She was too sensitive. Then I flattened her on her back and fucked her still spasming, drenched pussy, never stopping the sucking of her breast. Her moans were frequentand full of pleasure, becoming screams pronouncing my name as her body shook, jerking my cock to no end. She looked like the most beautiful, perfect little whore. It hardened my dick even more to know that while I was milking her breast, she was milking my cock.

I took it out and pushed against her asshole. She gasped. Her eyes popped open wide with horror and she pulled away. “No.”

I could never get her to like anal or admit to liking it, and that’s exactly what made it delicious. I lifted my mouth from her chest and looked into her eyes while teasing the other nipple, which was still so full and leaking. As a drop trailed down the side, I licked the milk off her skin to remind her what I could do for her. She tried to push away my face and thumb because the swelling hurt and she was too sore. The message was clear. If she wanted me to relieve her pain, then she had to let me fuck her however and wherever I wanted. I had to repress a laugh when she pulled my face down and cupped it. She panted at every sucking.

By then I could tell when she was screaming from pain or pleasure. This one was of pain. Her ass had tightened too much in the weeks I'd let her be. The sound as I slammed into her ass, was everything. She came right away.

The two of us grew addicted to the routine. No matter how much I hurt her while fucking her, or how angry she’d be with me in the morning… At night, she'd beg me to drink from her breasts and would come numerous times. I would lose count. It was the perfect combination. The more it happened, the longer I took to come, but for her, it was the opposite, so I got to see her beg me to stop even more than ever.

On top of everything, she was deliciously submissive and so attached to me, not wanting me to leave her side for a minute. Sometimes we’d begin the morning with her wanting to slash my throat, but by the time I was done getting dressed, she’d suck my dick, begging me not to leave her. It was as if her subconscious knew the terror that could happen, or maybe it was running away from the memory, and my presence helped keep it at bay. Either way, I couldn’t get enough of the pregnant version of her, no matter how fake it was.

Molly never looked at me like that. Astoria was mysterious. She was so desperate to find the good in me that she stuck herself in a daydream for months. One in which we were pregnant, and in love. She even felt the baby kicking when there was nothing there to kick. I still loved torturing her, obviously, but she had softened me by bringing me along in her delusion. I used the spectacular miracle that was her body so I could have what I never even dared dream of. I knew deep inside that Astoria abhorred me, but it was something I’d never felt before, someone loving me.

The day she went into labor, I couldn’t believe the physical pain her body was putting her through to maintain the lie.

My poor, beautiful, loving Astoria.

Everything changed when I watched her knees buckle beside the crib and she cried into the yellow blanket. I didn’t know if she finally remembered, but I couldn’t force her to stay anymore.She’d never know I cried with her, that I wanted to hold her and comfort her, but pretended to sleep so she could choose the life she wanted.

Stay or leave.

A part of me let her go to test how true her love was. If she loved me, the real me, if it wasn’t just my delusion, then she would return to bed with me… but more than that, I let her go knowing she needed to leave the hell that I was to her because I'd never change. This has and always would be me.

It was easy to paint and remodel the house so that when Sergeant Tweedle Dee and Lieutenant Tweedle Dumb finally came four weeks later, everything looked different–inside and out. I had gardeners take down a lot of the trees that blocked the view of the main entrance. I also bought a Victorian house in another city, had it transported here, painted it the same color as the main house, and built a hallway connecting it. Grown almond trees were replanted around the back and front of the house. The wooden floor inside was stripped, sanded, and re-painted. The furniture was rearranged, and the kitchen was extended. Turns out, if you hire enough people, you can change everything in a matter of days.The house went from looking like some old broken down farm property to a four million dollar home. Oh, I also put a wall of bricks to cover the door to the basement because I'd never cheat on my girl. No other woman but her would ever be there.

I almost lost my sanity in her absence. I fucking cried my eyes out when the bed stopped smelling like her.The house was tooquiet, frigid and empty. Not finding her in my room every day after work, needing to fuck her and hear her screams at night. Yes, I had a million videos and audios of us fucking but I wanted to feel her skin, lick her tears, eat her tortured cries, feel her pussy, her mouth, and her asshole choke and milk my cock.

It was like ripping off a bandage that had become a part of my skin. Even when I heard she'd been admitted into the psych ward, I stayed away. Even when I knew she'd moved in with Mindy, still, I stayed away. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself otherwise. I contemplated suicide, knowing it was the only way she could truly be free of me.

When I saw her in my clinic, I felt a solar flare roll through my life. My chest hurt. I was in shock and the pain of having her so near without her knowing my true identity almost killed me. It was physically painful not to touch her. Then I noticed she wasn’t acting like the old Astoria. Deep down, she knew Julian and Asher were the same person. She looked iridescent and was more of a firecracker than ever before. She’d changed in the most fascinating, fun way.Her body wasn’t used to me fucking it anymore, so she was as tight as a virgin, terrified, but oh so horny for what I used to do to her.

For a year, I'd thought I'd lost her but Astoria was all mine, body and soul. Even if she couldn't face it, she'd returned…to me.

That’s why when she left the hotel room, I didn’t follow her.Sooner or later, she'd need me again.

Chapter thirty-eight

Mexico

Astoria

I walk into the restaurant where Mindy agreed to meet me and see her sitting in a booth, then slide in across from her. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, Tory? You disappeared last night and wouldn’t answer my texts. What the fuck? If you ever do that again, I’ll bitch slap you ‘til Sunday.”

I sigh. “I know. And I’m sorry–”

“Where were you?”Her voice softens now that I've apologized.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh yes, it does. Especially because I know you didn't go to work yesterday. So what the fuck?”

I sigh again. “Mindy. Listen. I have an idea of how to fix everything.”

The waitress interrupts us and we order brunch.

---