Page 58 of Deviant

I blink back, not exactly making eye contact because I don’t want to know what I’ll see reflected back at me.

He spreads me wider with his fingers, opening me up more and he delves his tongue right into my core.

My body locks up, my toes curl, and I hate that it feels almost nice, soothing even, as he penetrates me over and over.

His thumb brushes against my clit, it’s not aggressive, it’s not forceful, he’s toying with me, playing with me, eating me out theway a man does, not because he’s focused on the destination, but for the sheer enjoyment of the act itself.

I shove my head back further, sink my body into the mattress as if that might save me.

He’s fucking me with his mouth, licking, swirling, covering me in his salvia and so much of me should hate this. Should despise this.

Only, my head is fucked, my mind is lost.

Whimpers turn to moans. With horror I realise that it’s me,memaking those noises,meactually enjoying this.

His hands caress my body, his tongue does ellipses over my clit. I can’t think. I can’t even form any logical sentences.

And oh gods, do I need to come. I need to feel this pleasure, it’s been so long since I’ve endured anything but the worst kind of pain.

Before I can do anything to stop it, I’m there, I’m lost, I’m writhing in what feels like ecstasy. I arch my back, I grab at the sheets, letting that delicious orgasm shatter me entirely.

My feet kick out, my body explodes. I lose myself in what feels like something too pleasurable to even comprehend.

And when I open my eyes, it doesn’t feel like a demon looking down on me, no, it feels like my messiah, my reason for existence.

But it can’t be. He can’t be.

He’s a monster. A psycho. So why does he look so good right now? Why does his tongue feel so good, why the fuck did I want him? No, not want, it’s so much deeper than that. It’s far more insidious, far more complex.

I shudder, I shake, I fold myself up into my shame and I withdraw entirely, as if my mind can escape the horrific reality of what I’ve done, what I’ve consented to.

What, in my weakness, I’ve allowed to happen.

Iknow I’m pushing it, that the poor thing needs rest after everything I’ve put her through, but I can’t resist the urge to see how far I can take this.

Today, a part of her soul fractured.

Today, she took a tiny step towards her damnation.

I need to ride that wave, ensure she doesn’t turn back or rethink it. I’m finally making progress and I refuse to hesitate.

She kneels so beautifully at my feet. Sitting still, like the perfect little pet that I’m making of her. Every so often I lower my hand, stroke her head, let her know that her behaviour is appreciated.

Conrad sits opposite, glancing at her occasionally, but I can tell his attention is elsewhere from the more than apparent scowl on hisface.

“Spit it out.” I sigh.

“She’s a fucking nightmare,” he growls.

I don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. I already know from the way he’s been badmouthing her to all his friends, as if I wouldn’t get wind of it.

“She’s your fiancée.” I state.

“I won’t marry her.”

My fist slams onto the table. Beside me, Liliana gasps before quickly shutting her reaction down.

“You will.” I say. “You’re damned lucky to be making such a match, considering your age, considering your reputation. Besides, she’s rich, her family alone own…”

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