Page 85 of Spark of Madness

She huffs out a breath as I do it again, as I rock her away, then drag her back. I push her so she sways over the edge, dipping her starlight hair in the looming darkness, and I feel the tremor rip through her spine as the fear takes hold of her once more.

But that fear heightens her senses. I can feel the way her muscles tighten around me, the way her cunt contracts around my cock and begs for release.

I’m not giving her release.

I’m taking mine.

Push and pull, sway and slam. My pace quickens and her journey forward shortens as I pull her back to my cock with shorter, faster thrusts. I fuck her recklessly, painfully, angrily.

I’m angry.

A fury awakens unlike any I’ve felt before, screaming through the beat of my heart, raging through my veins.

But why?

Sway and slam. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

“Arlo,” she says, and I feel her there, embracing my cock, trying to corrupt me with the pure, hedonistic pleasure of it all.

She’s fulfilling my every desire, strung up in a dark cave with danger lurking all around us. She’s submitted fully to whatever way I choose to use and abuse her. I could fall for her...I could so easily fall into this trap she’s set for me. Yet, the voice in my mind calls to me, reminding me of the truth.

She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

A demon disguised by human flesh—flesh that perfectly matches my every dangerous desire.

God is testing me.

I fuck her harder and faster. I dig my fingers into her fleshy hips to hold her steady instead of swinging her so I can give her the full force of my furious longing. Grunting and sweating, I pound into her cunt.

“Arlo,” she chokes on my name, “it hurts…”

A feral growl builds behind my voice. “It’s what you’ve earned, sinner.”

I don’t exist within my body. I hear my voice and the words I speak, but I feel powerless to control them. I only want the release I should have taken from her that night in the forest. I want it to hurt her for the way she makes me hurt. The longing is unbearable, and I can’t have her. She’ll be dead soon, and I can’t even have her now without shame for what she’s made me become.

“It hurts,” she whimpers again.

It’s as if the demon leaves her soul and enters mine, because her plea only encourages me to fuck her harder. I want to fill her deeper.

Leaning forward, I wrap one arm around the ropes at her midsection and pull back to keep her in place as I continue to move inside her. Once I’m sure she’s firmly in my hold, I drag my other hand down her crack, teasing the tiny hole that makes her flinch when I touch it.

Turning my thumb and lowering it, I sneak some wetness away from her cunt and drag it upward until I reach that spot again. I should warm her up, stretch her, prepare her, but her demon tells me to claim her ass without preparation. It tells me she doesn’t want to be prepared. She wants to be taken forcefully, painfully.

She wants to be mine.

But she’ll never be mine, and soon, she’ll be dead.

I groan with the pain of my thoughts as I push my thumb inside that tiny hole with a sharp thrust, causing her to scream and flinch, but that doesn’t stop me. I press in deeper and harder. I fuck her faster, pulsing and pumping as the most painful kind of pleasure gathers in the base of my cock and swells. It throbs and pounds and begs for relief.

Dear God, give me relief.

Let me come quickly. Letthis sin be over.

As if God Himself heard my plea and spurred it to spare me this pain, my release spills inside her without warning. The most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt tears through my soul. I shout out my anger, my shame, my absolute satisfaction into the dark void. I hope it will swallow our sins and hide them in the darkness forever.

I pant as I fight to catch my breath, still buried to the hilt inside her. It takes me far too long to come down from the high, but her soft sobbing drags me from the paradise of pleasure into the darkest level of hell.

She’s crying.

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