Page 29 of Deviant Illusions

“Wrong.” He spits into my mouth. “You are my fucking whore. Beg. Fucking beg me to abuse that throat of yours.”

My sick brain ignores his sadistic actions like they’re cancelling each other out. It only focuses on his pale green eyes in front of me. How, even with the balaclava covering the rest of his features and the only light being from the candles, he is still Kane. The only person who never expected anything from me and showed me true, unconditional love. The type of love that sinks into a person’s bones and makes the shit days worth living. The type of love worth killing for, and any lie or betrayal was worth it because at the end of every day, when the stars were shining, I got to bask in it.

Those memories are why I plead, “Fuck me, Kane. Use me and let me feel you every time I talk.”

Using his hold on my hair, he drags me to sit up and slams his lips over mine. The candles rip off their thick melted perch and clatter to the floor as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. I lift up on my aching knees and crawl forward to straddle him.

The chain attached to the collar gets trapped between our bodies. Cold, harsh metal digs into my ribs, and I moan into his mouth as my nipple is pushed between the links. Wrapping both arms around me, he raises to his full height and smiles. He fuckingsmiles.

The happy Kane, who found joy in the small things, is back.

His smile turns sinister as he holds my ass and grinds me against his hard dick, whispering, “You’ll never be able to forget me after this.”

It sounds like a threat, but he doesn’t allow me any time to translate what it could mean as he pushes into me in one brutal thrust. The chains rattle, and my scream echoes around the room. He wraps his hand around the chain, twisting my nipple within the links, prolonging my scream. Biting into the side of my jaw, he fucks up into me.

My nails score across his nape, and I lock my ankles together at his back. The wild movements cause sweat to bead against the full length of my back as the glow gets brighter, bathing everything in orange light.

I thread my fingers through his hair and reach my other hand between our bodies. As soon as I brush his sternum, he releases me. My hip and shoulder take the brunt of the impact as I fall against the warmed floor with athud. He steps back, proud, with his dick glistening.

The warmth of the candles increases, spreading out towards me, and he pulls on the chain faster than I can sit myself up. I’m dragged closer to him, but he doesn’t touch me. He uses the metal links like a leash until I’m kneeling at his feet.

My chest is red from the abrasion of the chain as he threads his fingers through the strands at my crown. They curl in, scraping against my scalp as he whips the chain to the side, swinging it back to clip my thigh. I whimper at the harsh metal striking my skin as he orders, “Suck.”

He doesn’t use his full force when he whips me. Just enough for me to feel the cold, light taps against my heated skin. Each swing of the chain pulls my nipple as he pushes his dick between my lips. Between the jolts and tugging, I’m unprepared, and my mouth doesn’t open wide enough. My teeth scrape against the sides of his length, and he slaps his fingers against my forehead.

“No fucking teeth, or I’ll remove them.”

When I relax my jaw, he softens his hand on my face to cup my cheek. He slowly thrusts forward, feeding me his dick until there’s only an inch left.

Kane softly strokes my cheek as he asks, “Do you want to live, koukla mou?”

My brows come together as I look up and breathe through my nose. I don’t notice his hand tightening on the chain because he gently combs his fingers through my hair above my ear until he curls them in, forming a fist with the strands tightly clasped in his palm. The cut opens, little drops of blood clinging to my scalp as he harshly repeats, “Do you want to live?”

I don’t know how to answer.

It’s an easy question, yet I don’t know how to fucking answer.

So, I don’t.

I simply act like he hasn’t spoken and ignore the world, ignore him, as I push my head forward and hollow my cheeks. Spit runs from the corner of my lips, and I gag, my eyes rolling back. He doesn’t move, content with me taking control, so I speed up.

The sound of my moaned gags mix with a faint crackle as he loses his statuesque position. His hips slam into me, the edgeof his zipper scraping against my chin and the collar tightening around my throat.

“Fucking demon,” he groans.

We both move faster, wilder, eager for his release.

The crackling intensifies along with the heat as he drops the chain to pinch my nose closed with his thumb and forefinger. I push against his thighs, my palms slamming into him and turning red, but he forces his hips forward. The dried wax on my back softens, making it easier to move, but he continues fucking my throat.

I can’t breathe and the heels of my palms ache from the force I’m using to get him off me.

“Knock,” he grits.

Thrust.

“Knock.”

Thrust.

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