Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“Help me, would you?” he grunts.
“You have no idea how much I’ve helped you already,” I say. But I do lend him a hand so he doesn’t fall over and smack his head open on the shower tile. The last thing any of us need now is more blood.
“Your pants are too tight, Sheriff.”
“They’re just wet,” he says. “Pull harder.”
His pants are halfway down his thighs right now, and that means his cock is in my face when I crouch down in front of him, haplessly tugging at soaked fabric that grips his leg hair like it fears being separated from it.
I feel his hand grasp the back of my head. My eyes lift up toward him. He’s got a sexy, easy grin on his lips as his other hand directs the head of his cock toward my mouth. He no longer cares about getting his clothes off. He just wants to get his rocks off.
He plunges his cock into my mouth, once, twice, three times, anointing it with my saliva before pulling me up to my feet, hiking my leg up over one of his arms, and pointing the head of his throbbing member at my holes.
He stops before entering, the head of his cock sitting between my outer lips, poised for another foray into my angelic depths.
“I want to hurt you,” he confesses. “And I do not know why. These sadistic impulses have always been in me, but they are stronger than ever with you.”
“You want to hurt someone who deserves to be hurt. And you hope I deserve it, because hurting me makes your cock hard. Your desire for me is as much a desire for defilement as it is for sex. I am angelic. And you will never be anything besides a poor, deluded mortal. That is why you want to rut me, animal that you are.”
I deliver my little speech with what I hope is a haughty air. I am trying not to smirk. In the end, it does not matter; those derisive words do what he wanted, giving him permission to be the dark monster I need him to be. His cock does not slide into my pussy again, instead it slides back an inch or so and finds another tighter hole. He thrusts up and penetrates my ass, the most twisted sexual act he can manage in this moment without additional props.
One of his big, rough hands holds my leg up for access. The other goes to my throat and pins me back against the tile wall. He pumps his hips in and out of me, working slowly. He wants to hurt me, but he also wants to be careful. He wants to tear me apart, but he also wants to put me together.
I see the devil in his eyes, but it is not the devil’s cock that thrusts inside me, and it is not the devil whose passion for me is unleashed. That belongs to the man himself. The real man, the man whose need for me was sparked in Vegas, and has carried over all these dark, possessed years.
This would hurt like fucking hell if I had the physiology of a normal woman, but my angelic powers allow this painful conquest of my ass to be tolerable for us both. My pussy drips angelic lubricant down and it is scooped up by the head of his cock and dragged up inside me with every rough, punishing thrust he gives my ass.
“You’re a bad little girl,” he snarls at me. “Angel or not, I know you deserve punishment. Maybe you can’t get it anywhere else. Maybe this is the only place you know you’ll have your ass whipped and fucked, maybe I’m the only man who can put you on your knees and make you feel as small as you need to feel.”
He understands me, and that makes him dangerous. He is ruthless, and that makes him even more dangerous. Starlight does not care for the laws of men or anything above them. Right now, all he cares about is fucking my ass long and hard, letting my empty pussy quiver with jealousy as he takes his pleasure in my hotter, tighter hole.
His grip on my throat is possessive, keeping me in place as he slams into me now, his hips working like a muscular jackhammer to fuck me into what we will both pretend is submission. I am going to come. The hard line of his lower abdomen keeps slapping my pussy, teasing my clit, and the feeling of having my ass filled is a perfect foil to the theme of defilement and falling. I don’t care what I am when I am in this man’s arms. Woman. Angel. Alive. Dead. It doesn’t matter. I am his. His toy. His pet. His object of pleasure and desire. I see myself made anew in his bright blue eyes as he hammers himself home with a few last rough strokes and pumps my ass full of his cum, holding me tight, kissing me deep, and making me come while trapped between him and the wall, my ass full of cock and cum.