Page 21 of The River of Hatred

“That’s it,” the Fallen whispers, now tugging on the laces of Jessica’s leather trousers. “We’re just going to make our little mortal feel good.”

Why is he using ‘we’?

Once he creates enough room to maneuver, his hand travels inside her bottoms. The front of her leathers bulges with his intrusion and she gasps.

“Sorry, poppet,” he murmurs into her hair. “My hand’s gonna warm up real fast though, don’t worry.”

I’m mesmerized by the movements of his hand in such a forbidden area. Does she like that? Her head is resting on Sariel’s shoulder and she’s panting, alternatively biting and licking her lips. I was so enraptured by his right hand, that I didn’t notice the left one loosening her top and snaking underneath to caress her naked skin.

“I’m going to put my hand into her panties now, Itha,” Sariel says to me.

“Why are you telling me that?” I breathe, my mind buzzing from the tension in the air.

Sariel chuckles. “Because, we’re both pleasuring our little poppet here, Itha. Look at how much she’s enjoying you looking.”

Jessica flushes as my eyes dart to hers but then nods tentatively. I gulp.

“She’s so soft here,” the Fallen whispers, drawing my attention back to the front of her bottoms. “I’m going to open her pussy lips now.” I stop breathing at his crude words. Why am I listening to this? Why am I watching? “Fuck, she’s drenched for us, buddy,” Sariel continues. “Is this all for us, honey?” he asks the trembling mortal.

“Yeah,” she replies on an exhale.

Sariel growls gently. “That’s our good little girl.”

Something twists in my stomach at his words and Jessica moans. Does she like him calling her a little girl? Does she like him praising her?

“I’m rubbing circles over her clit with the tip of my finger now,” he narrates his actions. Jess’s legs begin to shake and twitch and her eyes roll back.

“Is it hurting her?” I ask, worried.

“N–no!” she moans. “It feels so good, Itha.”

The black-haired devil grins at her words, at her defense of his actions. My body is growing uncomfortably hot and pinpricks tingle over the expanse of my skin.

Jessica’s body convulses and I start, but Sariel explains before I can get up to intervene. “I pinched her nipple.”

“And…” I clear my throat. “And that is a good thing?”

He huffs at my ignorance, not insultingly, but still with some obvious superiority. “It’s very good, Starlight.”

I gasp at the nickname he gave me on a night long, long ago, as we were sitting on the banks of Lacus Larius, or Lake Como as it is known today. He said I reflect off the water’s surface just like the stars above us.

“I’m gonna put a finger inside her now and find the right spot…” Sariel’s words cut through the warmth in my chest at old memories.

Jessica’s hands grab onto the Fallen’s thighs as he does what he threatened to do. “Oh my god, Sariel,” she moans, making him laugh softly.

“Tell Itha how it feels, poppet,” he commands.

When her beautiful blue eyes open and lock with mine, something stirs below my waist. “It feels amazing,” she breathes. “Nothing ever felt this good.”

As my mouth opens and closes with no words coming out, Sariel laughs and his movements in her trousers pick up speed and force. “I’m pumping two fingers into her tight tunnel now and rubbing her hot little clit with my thumb. She’s gonna come pretty fast like this. Aren’t you, poppet?”

Jessica’s only answer is a high-pitched moan as her head thrashes from side to side on Sariel’s chest. I’m so engrossed with the sight that I don’t notice Sariel’s attention is on me until he speaks. “Look, honey. We gave the angel his first woody.”

They’re both now looking below my waist and I feel the urge to cover my crotch with my hands despite my confusion. What are they talking about? But at that moment Jessica tenses and screams, “Oh, fuck, Itha! I’m coming!”

Sariel laughs darkly with glee as the mortal girl in his arms shivers with her climax, my name on her lips, and her eyes fixed on my crotch.

Once she stills, I look down at my lap and notice the large bulge at the front of my pelvis. My heart picks up speed until it feels as if it will grow its own wings and fly out of my chest.

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