Page 11 of Unholy

My pussy is begging to grind on anything. I squeeze my pelvic floor, kegeling, in an effort to give it what it needs.

Saliva still overwhelms my mouth even though I am swallowing every last drop he is giving me, yet some still is dripping down my body and onto my chest.

“Your tits are fucking covered, Puppet. I want to slide my cock through them next.”

Cum is still shooting out as I move his head to my mouth, my lips wrapped tightly around him as my tongue plays. My ovaries are tingling as my pussy pulsates.

On trembling legs, my own release washes over me, but I don’t stop pleasuring him. I squeeze my thighs together, putting more pressure on my swollen pussy lips. It feels so fucking good.

The last bit of release from him coats my mouth as I remove him completely. A string of cum is still connected from his head to my lips, and I don’t want to break it.

His hand comes to my face as I watch his softening cock bob.

Nathaniel’s thumb circles the one side of my cheek, smudging the tears and streaks of mascara.

“Such a good fucking girl, Puppet,” he praises. “I see you liked that too,” he adds with a wink.

My top teeth bite my lip, the cum string breaks, and my senses start coming back to me. I am absolutely pissed for allowing myself to get caught up in him, again.

I saw him that night at Hell Fire, but I will never confirm that to him. I need him to feel like he was just another man, nothing worth remembering.

I am lost in my rush of thoughts when the silence is broken by the sound of his phone vibrating endlessly on his desk.

He doesn’t move to reach for it, keeping his gaze on me. I don’t react either, instead allowing the words laced with venom to murmur from between my swollen lips. “I hate you,” I seethe. He needs to know none of this is from lust. I used him as much as he used me.

And I am no one’s fucking puppet.

Rising to my feet, I brush the underside of my bottom lip with my thumb, removing any remaining cum or saliva before turning to leave.

He catches me off guard, his tone casual and arrogant. “You hate the institution, and me by default. Don’t confuse the two. And it’s Duke to you, Ms. Vandenberg. I’ll be seeing you again.”

5

NATHANIEL

Isee right through her, but I will allow her to continue to think otherwise.

She loved giving me that blowjob as much as I enjoyed getting it. And no fucking chance she hates me; the wet puddle left behind by her pussy would beg to differ.

Chuckling to myself, I lean back in my chair, sucking back on my cigar, and check my phone to see who felt the need to annoy me this evening. Before I am able to, Rogers pokes his head in. “Sir, I have the information you requested.”

“Email me everything,” I instruct. He responds with a curt nod and walks away.

Rogers is family; he has been the estate manager since I bought the place. I trust him with everything. He has never betrayed me or the family.

Picking my phone up, it goes off displaying his email. I ignore it for now, instead finding the mystery caller and dialling them back. It rings four times before a younger man's voice answers. “Duke, we need a cleanup crew. Dalton, he just fucking lost it. So many bodies, blood everywhere. The chief of police among them. Duke, what do we do?”

Keeping my tone calm, I say, “Where?”

“Hell Fire cabin,” the kid stutters in response.

Confused, I reply, “What are people doing at the cabin?”

The line goes quiet; heavy breathing only remains, so I ask another question. “Is he still there?”

“Yes.”

Shit.

---