Page 25 of As Devils Love

“Wh... what are you doing?” A breathless moan accompanies my words as his hand returns to my breasts.

He cups one of my breasts in a tight grip, allowing the crook of his index and middle finger to slot perfectly around my rapidly engorging nipple. Noticing my own reaction, my stalker tugs onthe bead, softly at first but increasingly harder in grip, until a mixture of tantalizing pleasure and pain trickle throughout my body.

While he delivers pleasure with one hand, the other remains a constant reminder of why he’s really here. He glides it down my the length of my body, and I can feel the sharp edge of his knife through my dress. But all the while, the spear dangling from his body is the only thing that’s actually stabbing me.

What the hell is going on?

I can’t deny that he’s completely unhinged.

But does that make me worse? Because this monster isn’t only terrifying me…

He’s turning me on.

The likelihood of my walking away from this, unscathed, is low. The beast groping me and squeezing me against his body is too far gone. But I have to try something, and my gut tells me that reasoning this out with him won’t work. So, I won’t appeal to the man in hopes of changing his mind. I’ll appeal to the lunatic who’s enthralled by my body.

“Are you going to stab me with that blade?” I ask with feigned courage, in an attempt to get under his skin. But my own words are laced with the sickening enjoyment of what he’s doing to me. “Or with your cock?”

My question knocks the cold look from his eyes, and his brows raise in astonishment that I’m standing up to him, even this close to death.

Is this what he wants? Someone feisty, who’ll stand up to him and deny him what he wants?

“Brave,” the deep, husky growl with which he speaks melts my heart into my tummy. If he wasn’t here to kill me, this would be so hot. “But how can I allow your fire to grow, Little Flame, when you would cause so much destruction?”

In an instant, my masked monster releases my chest and snaps his hand to the back of my head. He grabs a fistful of my hair and forces my entire body forward, until I collide with the mirror.

While I am half bent over and with my ass in the air, the masked monster steps behind me. He slams the full weight of his hips against my ass, and somehow, like a homing missile finding its target, his cock manages to knock against my entrance through his jeans.

I yelp out a moan, expecting to see fury in his eyes that I’ve made too much noise, but they don’t allow anything resembling an emotion to pass. He pins me to the mirror with his lower half, constantly teasing the wet spot between my thighs, before releasing my hair. He allows his hand free to travel down my body and finds the hem of my dress.

“What are you doing?” Do I ask out of fear or excitement? Even I can’t tell.

My masked monster ignores me, continuing on his path. He yanks my dress up and hooks it above my ass.

“Already. Fucking. Soaked.” He says each word with the most emotion I’ve seen flashing from his eyes so far.

I don’t even know how he can tell, considering his eyes have never left mine in the mirror.

His blade runs up the side of my thigh without breaking the skin, as he jams his waist forward to tease my yearning hole. It reaches its destination and with a quick flick of his wrist, the silver slices through my panty’s waistline, and they fall to the floor.

For the first time since he’s pulled me in here, he releases me completely. He drops down to the floor, but before he grabs the garment, he cut off of me, I feel his face press into my thighs. He rolls it between them, and I’m certain if it weren’t for his mask, he’d steal a taste of me.

And I want him to.

Oh, Lord, how I want him to. I want him to tear off his mask, drown himself with my juices, and cease all this nonsense about killing me. I’m sure that’s a no go, but how much fun could we have if he doesn’t? Why does it have to stop in this changing room with some tongue action?

We could indulge each other’s sickest whims. I could hook this beast on cum drunk satisfaction, and and he could scratch the need he awakened in my core that first night we met. Something tells me that his long, thick erection is the only thing that could push deep enough to reach it.

“What are you gonna do to me?” My voice is wispy, instead of startled. As if eager to receive whatever the monster has in mind.

He sets his blade down at his side and takes off one of his gloves. The action is slow, as if he’s waiting for me to watch him expose his hand from the glove. Once uncovered, he presses both hands into the squishy meat of my ass. The gloved hand parts my cheeks, while the naked one starts caressing my flesh as it sinks down to my legs.

“There’s something different about you.” He grumbles, as his hand finds its place against my inner thigh. “And it’s pissing me off.”

“What is it?” The sensation of his touch comes with a soft moan I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

“I don’t know.” With a forceful push, he parts the leg his hand is on from the other. A growl comes from the deep cavern of his chest, as the hand parting my ass cheeks slides up to the small of my back. Another forceful push drives me forward, until my breasts and face are pressing against the mirror, and my ass is all but against his mouth. “And you see, that’s what’s pissing me off. It’s my business to know, and an anomaly like you causes immeasurable problems.”

“Uh-huh.” It’s meant to come out likeplease go on, but between my own heart thumping in my ears and my brain working overtime to fend off any satisfaction I might be deriving from this, the message may have been lost along the way.

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