Page 64 of The Sacrifice

“They are gods. You are nothing! A gray girl with a broken soul.”

“No,” I say with resolve, pressing my lips together and quickening my pace. “The only one who gets to break me is me.” I repeat the words from the darkness of that crypt, refusing to break like I did then. “So, give me all the scars you want to, you sadistic prick. I’ll wear them inside and out—just as proud. I love all of them. Because the ones with the greatest scars are the ones with the deepest hearts.”

The Hag screeches, and the silhouetted figure tries to block my way, but I crawl right through her. “Good luck finding mine, you tentacle-cheeked, swampy bitch.”

As soon as I speak the words, my body pitches into open air. I scream as I fall.

47

That's MY fucking dragon!

DRAGO

I don’t know how long the damned Hag has ridden me in Tessie’s form. But the torture is endless. She boils my blood. Forces me to hardness over and over. And fucking rides me until I ejaculate inside her every time. Doesn’t matter how much my seed coats her legs and fills her damned cunt. She never tires. She doesn’t let me fade.

I don’t know how long I’ll last like this.

I seethe, blowing fury through my nostrils as she mounts me once more. And the second she slides excruciatingly slow and brutal down my cocks, a familiar little figure clothed in nothing more than a dirty gray shift falls into the Hag’s lair. My blood leaps in my veins, and my heart lurches into my throat when my little Tessie, my Quintessa plunges into the scummy water of the swamp territory where the Hag lives.

Instantly, the Hag hisses but refuses to stop her torture, dismissing my sweet pet as if she’s no more than a pest. I shake my head with a laugh, though my brow creases and rage simmers in my blood at the thought of her here. That I am some dragon in distress and need a damsel to save me. I go flaccid in the Hag’s cursed cunt at the very idea. But as soon as Tessie surfaces, whipping her long gray hair in a sudden arc, my cocks throb with desire. Especially from the sight of that shift clinging to every inch of her skin.

What I love more is when she turns and sees what the Hag is doing. Oh, the livid expression on her face from her lips twisted into a fierce grimace to her seething nostrils to the wrath brimming in her dilated eyes! I never noticed how red her cheeks turn, but I imagine it’s the first time she’s felt this type of anger. It all kindles my blood, sets it to rush, and stirs adrenaline within me. Enough to rattle the chains and shackles, but all that does is swell more blood when I rip at skin and flesh thanks to the bone hooks anchoring me.

Tessie slogs through the water, deviating past countless rotting, black trees dripping with thick lichen that claws at her hair. Raging like an unexpected fire, she ignores the algae hanging onto her wet shift, the moss hitchhiking onto her cheeks, and even the flies pestering her. Her eyes are fixated on the Hag who growls and rides me, propelling me toward another inevitable, torturous climax despite how much I wrestle with my muscles bulging.

It’s as much a shock to the cursed witch as it is to me when Tessie issues out of the water and charges for the Hag, grips the tentacles so hard, she damn near rips them off, and drags her right off my cocks. I tilt my head with a smirk as my pet shrieks in a shrill, howling voice of possession, “That’s my fucking dragon, you heartless, fish-eyed, tentacled-twat!”

I lift my brows. My lips spread into a grin, and heat surges right to my cocks from my little Tessie coming to my defense in her adorable way. I can’t fathom how she discovered the secret entrance, and I understand it was no trivial task for her to overcome that tunnel, but all those thoughts evade me when she hurls the Hag back and throws her body against mine, and kisses every part of me she can access.

“Pet…” I touch my lips to her head, reassuring her I still want her, still need her, still own her with every fiber of my being. And I’ve fucking paid for her in blood. Not that I ever believed I’d find one worthy of such a feat. Or that one would pay with her own.

She gazes up at me through tear-blurred eyes. “What has she done to you?”

“To us,” I correct, so she understands it’s a burden, a curse we both share now.

The Hag advances toward us, and I can’t help but smile at how Tessie clings all the tighter to me, pressing her cheek to my midsection on account of how small she is compared to me.

“You want him, gray girl?” purrs the Hag in that seductive, rich voice far too tempting. “You may try and claim him!”

She flattens a palm to my chest and snarls, “He is mine!”

The Hag laughs. She laughs, wagging those tentacles fixed to her cheeks at my Tessie, but the fire blazing in my little pet’s eyes is enough to grant me hope. Enough to give me the strength to growl at the bane before me.

“Only if you find his soul,” the Hag stipulates with a malevolent grin twisting her crazed features, impossible from that damned detached jaw. Tessie freezes, eyes turning wide. I clench my jaw when the Hag taps her claws together, her phantasm eyes marking me before targeting my pet. “A little bargain. A little wager. Yes, yes, play with fire.” Her tentacles curl their taunts in the air as she sways from side to side, approaching Tessie. “For every second you take to find the dragon’s soul, I spill a drop of blood. I will not stop. Not till I reach his heart to touch.” She wags her claw, and I stiffen as she trails it along my cheek.

All the flushed color drains from Tessie’s cheeks. “Or…?” my sweet pet asks, swallowing, her teary eyes shifting to mine.

“Or you leave. Leave and leave me the dragon. Forever. My heart and touch.” The instant the fucking witch taps my bare chest, I snarl and snap my teeth. She hisses, pulling her lips back to show her teeth in a contesting command. Nor does she stop touching my chest, rubbing the heel of her hand against the place above my heart. I soften my eyes upon Tessie whose lips have parted in understanding. Our first touch. Our first spark. If she leaves, the Hag will take everything.

Her tears are the worst brand of torture. I’ve never believed any force could have the power to burn me on the inside…until those tears.

“Oh, poor tears. Touch and tears,” croons the Hag while stroking those fucking claws across my chest. And lower.

My little pet gazes at me. Then at our surroundings. At the expansive lair of the Hag, much of which is nothing but swampish land—waist-deep. And this rocky ground where she’s chained me to the cliffs that mark the edge of her territory. Worse are the great piles of bones, each like a small mountain: the Hag’s trophies. She could have hidden my soul anywhere. My little Tessie’s eyes scramble as if she’s counting the infinite number of seconds it could take. And the drops of blood.

She swings those beautiful eyes of silver ghost light streaming with moonstone tears. And whimpers, “Drago, I…” she steps back, but I thrust out my jaw, narrow my eyes, and command in the voice I know she will listen to, “Be my dirty, good girl, my pet.” I can’t resist crooking a smirk since she will get dirty as I will get bloody. But that’s been our dynamic from the beginning. Fire and blood, darkness and sin, wicked and filthy. “You will do this. You won’t look back, little one. Because every second wasted is a drop of blood. You will use every moment to find my soul. And once you do, little Tessie, Thayne and I will fuck you until we send you to heaven just so we can bring you back again. Remember, Thiago, my Queen. And find my fucking soul. Now,” I finish in a roar that is explosive enough to send my little pet whirling around and scampering toward the nearest little mountain of bones.

This time, when the Hag takes a claw to my flesh, I bite down on the leather strap but relax all my muscles. I keep my eyes on my little Tessie the whole time. Because this brand of torture will be nothing compared to the last.

---