Page 21 of Cruel God

“Get on your knees,” I whispered to her.

Without a second’s hesitation, she obeyed like the good little lamb she was, settling on her knees in front of me.

“I need you to show me what I mean to you.” I began weaving my fingers through her soft brown hair while freeing my cock from my pants with the other.

Gently I eased her forward as I held my dick, ready to feel her mouth around it. “Show me that I am your everything. Show me what it means to you to be mine.” My voice was firm, never revealing that this was more of a plea than a demand.

She nodded her head, her thick eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and I slowly rubbed my cock across her lips. The sensation shot through me like a thousand volts of electricity, my spine tightening with anticipation.

“Allow me to show you, master,” she murmured, the sound of her voice causing my blood to hum inside my veins.

She didn’t move. The submissive—no, the slave in her knew never to act without permission. She would not take me in her mouth without my command. As her lips parted, my insides coiled tight; I guided the tip of my cock across her mouth, her chin, her cheeks. I was fucking painting her, knowing I had every inch, every contour of her face memorized. My fucking masterpiece. The one thing that made my chest swell with pride; and the one thing I refused to share with the world.

A familiar ache spread through my bones, an electric current surging from my spine to the tip of my cock. That’s when the beast roared, and I tightened my grip in her hair, forcing her head forward and shoving my length into her mouth.

She took all of me, and the heat of her mouth wrapped around my cock, her tongue swirling, licking, lapping, making sure every inch of my shaft was coated with nothing but her.

“Show me, Hope.” I pulled her hair, letting her head move back, then pushed her forward again so the tip of my cock reached the back of her throat. “Prove to me that I am your fucking king.”

She sucked me with vigor, her tongue lapping, licking and swirling all around my cock. A throaty groan escaped me when I let go of her head. The feel of her mouth around me was like a shot of heroin into my veins, the rush in-fucking-describable. The sweet vibrations of her moans sent fiery pulses of ecstasy all the way up to the back of my neck. The pleasure, the ecstasy, it shook me to my fucking core, my legs trembling, and lips parted. I grabbed the window frame for support while the pleasure consumed me—swallowing me whole. Hope was on her knees in front of me, submitted and sucking my cock like her fucking life depended on it. In her mind, it probably did.

She rubbed and cupped my balls and occasionally used the flat of her hand to put pressure on my taint, forcing a guttural groan to rip from my throat.

Yes, I was her everything. I could fucking feel it in the way she sucked me back in her throat. I could tell by her moans that she loved tasting me on her tongue. She fucking loved making me come. There was no better act of submission than this, and it made my soul soar with pride and satisfaction, reminding me once again why I was willing to burn every goddamn city to the fucking ground for her.

With every stroke of her tongue, my insides screamed for more, and I started to move my hips, fucking her mouth. Faster, harder I pumped, and when I looked down, I saw a single tear rolling down her cheek. Good God, that one tear…that one single drop of moisture that stemmed from her goddamn soul making its way down her face, was the most potent aphrodisiac I had ever experienced. Unlike that morning, this fucking tear she cried, it was for me—becauseof me. Every muscle in my body was taut and tight, blood surging through my veins, from my heart to my mother fucking cock.

The pressure started to build, causing my balls to draw up tight, my legs and arms shaking.

“Touch me,” I commanded—pleaded. Her hand wrapped around my shaft, pumping while her delicate lips sucked, and I fucking moaned out loud, lifted my head at the same time I opened my eyes, looking straight at the moon.

Jesus. It was one moment of clarity so fucking powerful my entire world shifted. Beauty surrounded me, both above me and beneath me. The moon and Hope. My darkness was surrounded by light, and for that moment alone, I was powerless against the light sweeping through me, trying to chase away the shadows that possessed me for so fucking long.

Potent relief flooded through me, pushing, building, forcing my orgasm to compress my veins and tear from my spine. Finally, I came with a roar that ruptured from my soul, pleasure surging through my body and wrapping around my lungs. It was fire. It was ice. It was every goddamn feeling known to man. And while I pulsed my cum inside her mouth, I felt free. For the first time in my life, surrounded by beauty and light, I was free from the heaviness of my tainted life—and possessed by nothing buther.

As the last bit of my orgasm spilled into her mouth, I came down from the high, reality slowly seeping through the haze of satisfaction that still had me wrapped up in chains.

The heaviness of who and what I was—whatshewas, started to return bit by ugly bit. Only this time, it felt more burdensome and more hideous than it did before. See, that’s what relief from the darkness did to a person like me. After experiencing a moment’s reprieve from the demons that clawed at your soul every minute of every day only intensified the pain once it returned. The guilt I always carried around came back with a vengeance and swept through me, replacing every last bit of pleasure I had just experienced, feeling like it was breaking every bone in my body. Why couldn’t I just be fucking free of it all?

This is your legacy, boy.

You can’t escape it.

It’s in your blood. It’s in the marrow of your fucking bones.

“Fuck!” I slammed my fist against the wall, and Hope jerked back, my cock slipping out of her mouth, cum dripping from her lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I pulled my hands through my hair. “Goddammit!”

“Master?” Hope’s voice shook. “Did I do something wrong? Did I not please you?”

I closed my eyes, desperate to regain control. “No, Butterfly.” I sighed. “You did nothing wrong. Stand up,” I demanded, and as always, she did what she was told.

As she stood on her feet before me, I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. Fuck knew why, but I kept my eyes closed. Maybe I didn’t want to see the worry in her eyes. The distress of thinking that she had done something wrong—something to upset me.

“Did I not please you, master?” she whispered, but I heard the pain in her voice. The uncertainty.

Goddammit, Rex. How could you doubt your place in this woman’s soul when her entire existence is built on pleasing you? Because she cried a tear over her brother? Took one goddamn second to mourn a life that had been stolen from her? A life you stole?

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