Page 40 of As Devils Love

Now, I fear I’ve put myself in a position I’m not going to get out of as easily as I did last night or in my fitting room. I should be counting my lucky stars that he’s telling me to get on my knees, instead of bending over the bar’s countertop. Considering all the options of what could’ve happened, letting him use my mouth is one of the better ones.

But why did he have to start with a finger inside me? It drives me wild, makes me desperate for more, and servesas a depressing reminder of what could have been instead. Under normal circumstances, I’d consider this behavior selfish. Wanting a partner to touch or slip his tongue inside of me, and get nothing in return.

But these aren’t normal circumstances. Crue has literally expressed his intentions to kill me. So, can it be selfish that I want no part of this? Pleasing him in my imagination is one thing. Touching myself while I pictured him tearing off his pants and freeing his enormous penis in the shadows of my darkened bedroom. Seeing the outline as it springs to life, and nervously reaching out to feel its rock-hard throbbing. I imagined how he would slap my hand away, grab my legs by the ankles and tear them apart before falling between them, until finally, his girthy tip penetrates my aching hole.

Even now, the images flashing across my mind are enough to give me the sinking feeling of lusty want. But that’s all it is. A fantasy that should never come true. And I fear it’s too late to escape my fate.

I can’t even call for help in Father’s home. Crue would kill me before anyone had the chance of getting here.

“Why do you look so frightened, Little Flame?” Crue asks, sliding his finger out of me. The motion leaves a sudden hollowness inside me, which stretches further than just my core.

His soaked finger makes its way up to my face, where he slips it into my mouth. Once again, I can’t control myself as he does. There’s something so hot about it, that I lick myself off his digit without a second thought.

Maybe it’s tactical this time. If I give in to some of his more twisted depravities, he might not push any further.

“It’s just a blowjob,” Crue adds, twisting his finger inside my mouth, and making sure I suck it clean. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” I admit, and for the first time since he mentioned it, I don’t feel a cold chill running down my spine. Instead, it’s replaced by a nervous warmth in my belly. Almost eager. Almost excited.

You can’t be serious.

There’s no way you want this.

I stiffen in place and shut my eyes, breathing somewhat sporadically. He removes his finger from my mouth, and it immediately finds its way to my neck. His hand grazes the skin as it crosses down my chest, finally resting against my breast.

A wickedly satisfied grin stretches over his lips as my nipple pokes through the material against his palm.

“Then indulge your twisted fantasies. I’ve done it every time I’ve seen you, and now it’s your turn.” Crue tilts his head to the side, and his green eyes beam straight into my soul.

Looking into his eyes, I realize that there is no tactic behind my decision to suck his finger clean. It isn’t some ploy to stop him. I did it because I wanted to. Because he told me to. It may have been an unspoken demand, yet I gave in without as much as a shake of my head.

The same way I’m doing now. Slowly sinking to the floor, while Crue’s hand follows on my breast.

“Good girl,” Crue says, and it lights a spark in my belly that has no reason to be there.

Feeling praised for obeying my stalker’s demands is lunacy. And yet, the spark turns into a raging inferno inside me when he lifts his hand off my breast and his thumb presses into my lower lip. With a forceful push, he parts my lips and stares into the opening with a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

“Stick your tongue out,” Crue says, sliding his hand back.

Heat swirls to my cheeks with his instruction and I avert my gaze before I can follow it. But as it drops, I get an up-close and personal look at the hardness straining against his trousers. Thesight makes my mouth part further instinctively, totally in awe. It isn’t hard to stick my tongue out with it this wide, and Crue growls in satisfaction as I do.

“Stunning,” Crue grumbles, more to himself than me it seems.

He reaches for his belt and works the buckle loose with both hands, accompanied by wild noises that emerge from deep inside his barrel chest. I keep my attention focused on the monster bouncing in his pants with every action he takes to get it free.

My heartbeat quickens as he completes his first task. It gets louder in my ears when he undoes the button and slowly lowers his zip. There’s no turning back now. Any chance I had to run is gone, but the closer he comes to freeing himself, the less I feel the want to.

Until it actually happens, with Crue hooking his thumbs into his trousers and underwear and dropping all of it to the floor at once. His cock springs to life in front of my face, swaying wildly as it tries to settle from its sudden freedom. Trying to lock my gaze on any one part of it feels impossible with it moving so sporadically. But mostly, it’s because it just seems to never end.

Even as he grabs it by the base with his gigantic hand, he barely passes a third of the length. It’s thicker than I pictured while it was pressed against me through his jeans, as well. But it’s the pulsating veins that draw my attention the most. There’s something incredibly alluring about him having so much blood pumping through his erection, and that it’s swelling this intensely.

“Like what you see?” Crue smirks, and only then do I realize my mouth is still wide open.

Only this time it isn’t because he told me to do it. I’m in shock at the size of the thing he’s going to try and push into my mouth. He strokes the length of his cock a few times, and with it a warm pulse emits from my core and trickles through every nerve in mybody. He takes two steps closer to me while he satisfies himself with his hand, and when he’s in position, it returns to a firm grip on the base.

Scared as I may have been when all of this started, my fear has been replaced by a twisted desire. A desperate yearning to touch him. To run a fingertip against his veins and see what it will do.

I try to push the feeling to the back of my mind, remembering that this is more a nightmare than a pleasant experience. We’re not lovers having some naughty fun where we could be caught, he’s my stalker and a killer. Disgust is all I should feel, but as a bullet of precum leaks from his tip, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to be repulsed.

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