Page 8 of Court of Heathens

I love monsters, and the more fucked up, the better.

I also love to taunt the demon with what he will never have.

I flash him my glistening cunt, my hole stretched around the stone cock. The gargoyle pounds into me from below, my pussy fluttering around him. I’m drawing closer. The demon’s words push me towards the edge, no matter who I am with.

“Come, little witch,” he whispers in my ear, and I can’t do anything but.

I scream my release as I clench around stone, wishing for a moment it were fire.

The gargoyle bellows, bringing me back to the present, and I gasp as he shoots his release inside me. It flows over me, and my eyes find my demon to see him tucking his hard cock away without release.

I slump back, and stone arms wrap around me. “Beautiful, Freya. Thank you, thank you.”

My demon is right, they are always thankful, and I am always wanting what I cannot have.

Maybe it’s wrong to use them, but I don’t care, not with bliss running through my veins and fire in my heart.

CHAPTER 5

Whenever my little witch gives into her desires and lets me watch, she hides from me after. I allow her the space, knowing she will only freak out if I push. She has gotten better, but not to that degree, so I disappear into the forest surrounding the village while she makes her way home.

I can feel her anxiety from here, knowing she is spiralling, but tonight was different. She watched me with something akin to understanding in her eyes.

Has she finally realised how much she wants me?

Will she give into the darkness, make a deal for me, and ensure her soul burns for eternity with me?

Maybe, and it certainly seemed that way from the look she gave me before I left—one I’ve never seen in her eyes.

I wonder if she remembers that she is the only being in this world that I have ever told my true name to.

I gave it to her upon her birth, and every night since, I whisper it in her ear, hoping she will speak it one day.

Even knowing what it will mean, I hope to hear it, even once.

I’m swinging from a tree, debating that, when I feel her magic.

It’s strong and dark as it blasts through this world and into theothers, causing me to stagger back and gasp. My eyes go to her house hidden within the village.

“No!” I bellow. “Little witch, what have you done?”

I appear at her house, rushing inside, my black heart racing with fear. She stands with her arms outstretched, her lips working a summoning spell. A trap is before me on the floor, and so much magic fills the room I have to fight through it to get to her.

It peels the skin from my bones, but when I reach her, I tackle her. She gasps and opens her eyes, the spell stopped.

“What have you done?” I roar into her face.

She blinks, swallowing nervously. Red fades from her eyes, a colour I don’t think she even realises they turn when she works dark magic. “I-I thought I could trap you inside the spell. Why?”

“That was not a trapping spell, Freya,” I snarl, and she flinches at her name. “It was a summoning spell, a fucking strong one.”

“Summoning . . .” She stumbles over the word, her eyes widening.

We both turn when we hear a loud groan, and my eyes widen when I see the man inside the trap meant for me.

No, not a man.

A god.

---