Page 36 of Dark Rapture
“Sacrilege,” he says simply. I turn my head and look at the altar at my back, then lift my eyes to regard the heavy white cross looming over us.
“Sacrilege?” I whisper, turning back to face him. He steps into me, his other arm lifting to wrap around me. He pushes against me until my back presses to the front of the holy altar. His head lowers, that blasphemous mouth brushing against my own.
“Desecration of the holy ground He once blessed,” he confirms, taking my lips in a devouring kiss. As his tongue sweeps against mine, I melt into his arms. He is warmth and safety, a dark decadence that promises rapture and sin. I am lost to his touch, his dark energy radiating out from him and calling to me in a way that leaves me helpless to deny him any longer.
As though I were made just for him, like we are two pieces of the same damned puzzle.
“Youweremade for me, Selene,“ he whispers as he pulls away, his hands lowering to grip my thighs. The claws adorning his fingers dig in just enough to spark little ripples of pain, before his skilled hands massage the sensation away.
I whimper softly as he drops his head to kiss my neck, his lips leaving heat in their wake as they move from my shoulder to that soft spot below my ear. My head drops back, giving him all the access he desires, and my body thrums with an arousal so deep I can’t escape it.
“You are magnificent, little witch,” he groans, his unusually long tongue trailing up my throat until he breaks the contact to take my mouth again. The kiss is feverish and hungry, like we are both starved and desperate for one another.
His hands grip my ass and he lifts me up effortlessly, depositing me to sit on the altar. I look up into the darkness of his solid black eyes, awestruck by the sinful smile on his face. His fingers drag down across my thighs slowly, before slipping between them to pull them apart.
“Daemon,” I moan his name as he pulls the bottom of my dress up until it gathers at my hips, exposing me to him. He kisses my mouth fiercely before he drops to his knees, pulling me to the edge of the altar and burying his face against my aching pussy.
He kisses me there the way he kissed my mouth, all lips and tongue, worshipful and ravenous. My head falls back on a desperate cry, and I slam my palms down against the surface of the altar to stop myself from falling.
He draws his lengthy tongue up and down along my slit, before placing long, drawing kisses against my clit. My hips buck as I moan, heat pulsing through me from where his mouth feasts.
The onslaught of pleasure is so intense that it steals my sanity, turning me into a wanton creature here on sacred ground, placed atop this altar like a sacrifice.
He knows exactly how to fuck me with his mouth, his demon tongue a dark magic I won’t ever recover from. “Oh, Daemon,” I moan as I shiver and shake, desperate for everything he is offering me.
The rush towards orgasm is so unyielding, I can do nothing but endure it and hope I survive. The wave of soul crushing bliss crashes into me with an obliterating intensity, and in the throes of my orgasm I wonder if I’m dying. Every atom of my body feels explosive, like he doused me in gasoline and took a flamethrower to my soul.
The pleasure hits me in multiple waves, and he kisses and soothes each one from my body. When I finally come down from the unimaginable high, I glance down at him to see him watching me. His pitch black eyes are locked on me, and I watch as he drags his tongue from bottom to top, making me shudder as an echo of the orgasm strikes me.
It is then that I see the shadows from his lips, physically connecting us like dark webs. He blows across my heated flesh, and the shadows retreat inside of me. I gasp when I realize I can feel his power inside of me, there between my thighs, reaching and stroking.
The archaic inferno at the base of my soul calls to the tendrils of dark energy his mouth left behind, and I know without a shred of doubt that the process has begun; this demon is binding my soul to him. Weaving the unbreakable threads of his dark power through the very essence of my being, in a way that can never be undone.
The arousal doesn’t dissipate, it grows. I rub my thighs together as my need for him rises to a fever pitch. I want him so damn badly, I can’t think straight. His essence is addictive, and for the first time in my entire existence, I want a demon to fuck me. To own me. To keep me, and never let me go.
I watch as he rises to his feet, my bottom lip caught between my teeth, unfolding in front of me like a dark God. His hands move to his waist, where he pulls the golden thread loose and drops his pants to his feet.
My eyes fall to his cock, jutting out from his waist. He is male perfection, built for sin. He is thick and long, and sure to fill me and hit as deep as my body can stand. He steps into me, forcing his way between my thighs, one arm snaking around my waist to pull me against his strong body.
I gasp as I feel him slide up along my pelvis, his hard cock pressing along my lower belly. My head lifts and I meet his dark gaze, my arousal spiraling through me.
“Give yourself to me, little witch,” he says, his otherworldly voice echoing throughout the church. The candles lining the anterior chamber of the church flicker wildly, threatening to combust. “Let me in.”
Just like that, I can feel his darkness wash over my entire body, oppressive and forceful, seeking entrance. I groan as the magic within me sparks bright, desperate to connect with his darkness and break free of its chains.
I want to let him in, I do, but I don’t understand how. Without a doubt, I know what will happen when I do. My power will awaken and fill me like a dam breaking free, and the rush of his darkness weaving tightly with mine will be a pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known.
“Let me in, Selene,” he groans, taking a step back so he can guide the head of his cock to the swollen entrance of my pussy.
My head falls backwards and I arch my back, pushing my hips towards him. As he slides inside of me by the smallest increment, heat roars to life at the base of my spine.
I cry out at the sensation of my soul igniting, while the walls and foundation of the church begin to shudder and quake. The demon’s energy is coming in blast waves as our bodies connect, pushing at the doors of my soul.
“Selene,” he growls my name as his head drops to my throat, his teeth grazing my oversensitive skin making me whimper and moan in response. “Give yourself to me.”
I want him deeper. This feels so right. I need him inside of me, in every way I can take him.
“My soul is yours,” I confess, my voice a prayer on this sacred ground. I moan as I feel the barrier between us shatter, his dark energy spilling inside me and flooding me with his essence.
