Page 45 of Cruel God

Snaking an arm around her chest, I reached up and wrapped my fingers around her throat, kissing the side of her neck as I continued to flex behind her, rubbing my length up and down her ass. It was pleasure and torture all in one. The friction of my cock against her was enough to relieve the throbbing ache, yet I yearned to be inside her. But not tonight. Not like this.

Pressing my lips against the shell of her ear, I whispered, “I’m going to come between your legs. But do not for one second think I’m not claiming you. The next time I come, itwillbe inside you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

I gave one final hard thrust, ramming my cock between her thighs. That’s when I felt it, her warm arousal coating my length. Fuck. She was drenched, her pussy lips warm and wet…just for me.

That was the moment I realized that she was truly mine. All. Fucking. Mine.

She leaned her head back against my shoulder as I reached down, finding her clit, working it gently as her moans filled my ears. Pleasure erupted from the base of my neck, crashing in waves as it traveled down my spine as I continued to rub my dick from her ass to between her thighs, being careful not to let Victor see our deception.

As I felt my cock twitch, I reached between us and grabbed my length, creaming her pussy lips just as I felt her shudder against me, her whimpers of ecstasy slamming straight through my heart.

That was the night the dynamic between Hope and I changed. The night I realized that she needed my darkness as much as I needed her light.

The night we deceived and tricked the almighty Victor Cain.

Chapter 16

Present

“Master.” Hope’s voice penetrated the memories—the nightmare—and I snapped out of it, still gripping the leather belt.

“I’m sorry for disappointing you. I deserve my punishment.” She arched her back, pushing her ass out even further, like a goddamn lamb offering its throat. “Punish me…please.”

My heart hiccupped as I stared at her, so fucking eager to accept the pain she thought she deserved, when in fact, this woman deserved everything but pain. She deserved a man whose touch didn’t hurt. A man who could make love to her instead of fucking her like she was nothing more than his personal fuck-toy. If I were a good man, I would have set her free so she could find love with a man whose existence wasn’t cast in total darkness. But I was a selfish bastard who would slit a thousand throats before I’d ever let her go. I needed her too much. The thought of her not waiting for me inside this room all but killed me.

It was ironic how she thought she neededmewhenIwas the one who would descend to the darkest pits of hell if I no longer had her to occupy my thoughts.

I inhaled deeply, rubbing the back of my neck. “Hope—”

“I am yours, and I let you down. Therefore, I need to pay for my disobedience.” With every word, her voice firmed, almost like she had convinced herself that this was the only way. But while I stared at her, I realized what she was doing. By acting the perfect part of a sacrificial lamb, she made it easier for me. She was aware of the inner conflict between this irrepressible need to punish her and my instinct to protect her. That instinct had been inside me ever since I first laid eyes on her. She knew it. I knew it. It’s what solidified our bond, making it unbreakable.

It was always a constant mindfuck for me when it came to this woman. A constant battle. Ineededto be the ruthless dominant and merciless master my father had taught me to be—something he engraved into my fucking soul, but Iwantedto be the gentle lover and kind man Hope deserved.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t be both.

“I need you to punish me.” Her voice shook as she urged me to do what we both knew needed to be done. She needed the pain as much as I needed to inflict it. Hope and I, we were nothing but layers of fuckedupness, both our minds broken by a man who still haunted us from beyond the grave. My father might have been dead in body, but he was still very much alive in our minds. Our memories. Our nightmares.

Deciding to embrace how screwed up we were and refusing even to try to go down a different route—something I’ve tried so many times before but failed—I exhaled and stepped closer. It amazed me how as soon as a decision had been made, the inner conflict disappeared like it was never there. That familiar surge of power I was so addicted to shot straight up my spine, spreading like fire through my veins.

I snapped the belt as I pulled at the ends, the crack thickening the atmosphere with anticipation—more proof of how fractured our minds were. Instead of fear and uncertainty, Hope and I bathed in sin with promises of ecstasy.

“Why am I punishing you, Butterfly?”

“Because I disobeyed you, master.” There wasn’t a second’s hesitation in her reply.

I gently rubbed the soft flesh of her ass. “How did you disobey me?”

“I moved when you demanded I keep still.”

“Very good.”

I dragged a single finger down her ass, slipping it between her thighs and into her pussy. She was, for me, proof of our mutual depravity. I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip, my cock hard and ready to impale her perfect little fucking body.

With greedy fingers, I spread her arousal all along the outline of her cunt, the smell of sex and sin enveloping us. God, this woman was just as warped as I was—just as screwed up. The threat of being punished—the fear--it turned her on, and that knowledge fed my already uncontrollable obsession with her. There was no doubt in my mind that she was the perfect woman for me and that I’d never find someone who fed my soul the way she did. Someone who embraced my darkness as much as I did.

Abruptly I removed my hand from her wetness and stepped to the side, rolling my shoulders to relieve some of the tension lodged in my muscles. After Hope had finally become mine, it took me a long time to fully comprehend the fact that she needed me to be the ruthless master she had been trained to want. But once I was able to make that mind shift and accept that we were both too fucked-up to have something close to a normal relationship, our bond only kept strengthening. Her submission fed my corruption, and my sadism nurtured her masochism.

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