Page 47 of Song of Tenebrae

I’m shocked for two seconds and then I grab an ass cheek in one hand, sinking my nails into his skin; the other is yanking on his beard.

“I know what you’re fucking doing,” I growl against his lips and thrust against him hard, ignoring the pain, “and it’s fucking working.”

He leans back to look down at me, humor twinkling in his eyes, “I can be sweet.” He pries my legs apart as he leans up on his knees, watching himself slowly sink into me. The upside down pentagram on his pec is slightly jagged and imperfect, just like me.

“Fuck me like you love me, old man.” I sneer and watch as those green eyes darken.

“Do not fucking complain to me later,” hard thrust, “that this pussy is sore,” another thrust, “I will be fucking you, multiple times a day until I die.” He slams in and I cry out.

My pussy tightens around him and I can feel how wet I am on the sheet below my ass, I’m fucking soaked. He grinds into me, rubbing my clit with his pelvic bone, “you gonna come for me, Demon?”

He pounds into me, his thumb working my clit, and I feel the rush working its way over my body, leaving my skin tingling. I scream his name and erupt into a mass of sensation.

He follows soon after and I once again realize there’s no condom.

“You want to be a daddy?” I ask as he pulls out.

“I want whatever I’m worthy of receiving.” He answers simply as he lands on his back beside me.

The cut on my leg has stopped bleeding but my pussy continues to throb, I need a fucking ice pack.

“What was your worst moment in life?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“The worst?”

“Yeah,” he nods and watches me closely.

“The day my mother walked out.” I answer honestly as I look to the ceiling, “she left me with a man who wished he was the first to walk out instead.” I fist my hands, “she left me with someone who pretended I didn’t exist.”

“I see.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” I snort, “it explains why I’m a stripper and need the attention of males because I’ve been lacking it my whole life.”

“Not really,” he moves to the edge of the bed and stands, his ass flexing as he stretches, “more along the lines of wanting to kill your mother.”

“You and me both,” I laugh at him.

“Tonight is fur.”

“What?” His words send shards of ice through my blood and I can’t seem to register anything.

“Your outfit tonight,” he turns to look at me and shakes his head, “you’re pale.”

“The last time I wore fur,” I swallow, “I swore I’d never wear it again.”

I see flashes of red soaked leopard print and my throat becomes tight, making it hard to breathe. It doesn’t help that I’m once again hurting between my legs and I’m losing my grip on the present as the past works to take over.

“Hey,” Raiden appears above my face, his grip rough on my chin, “you looked good in fur and even better when it was red.”

“No,” I choke out and shake my head, “why?”

“Because you’re stronger than this,” his grip becomes bruising, “my demon wouldn’t let fabric make her falter.”

“You destroyed me that night!” I yell and he grins, coming in closer.

“You look perfectly fine to me.” He stands and heads for the door, “I’ll send it to you later, take a bath and soak my pussy.”

“I hate you,” I yell as he opens the door.

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