: Chapter 48

I listen to the slight whimper in her cry, feel the expansion of her chest, breasts rising against my forearm, and see the fire burning deep within the confines of her sinister eyes. She’s ready to wage her war. My beautiful destructive doll.

I must claim her as my own. I need her sweet pussy filled and dripping with my cum, feeding my primal compulsion to mark her. I need her flesh freshly cut and bleeding from the power of my hand before this man touches the curvaceous vessel of the soul I own. I won’t let her slip from my grasp. Not my Briony.

The idea of destroying the most sacred part of the Westwood dynasty, however, the beloved and all-too-perfect Saint, has me reeling in palpable excitement. Fuck all of them for allowing the disgusting cycle of abuse and death of the weak to continue. Saint’s just as guilty, and that motherfucker will pay like the rest of them. We will strip him of his title before he even gets a chance to claim it, crippling the entire institution and everyone who pays a part to play.

Briony’s trust in him and everyone else she once loved has been severed, all of it falling inevitably on me as I’d planned.

I’m the only one on this earth that could ever protect her the way she needs to be protected in order for her to become her own king. Lesser men would cap her power, ensuring she remains the staple of a traditional woman. I, however, want her to flourish in her rule over the masses. Her intelligence burned freely as a wildfire, destroying the traditions of the past.

Even now, with her back against the wall and her legs parted, waiting, she loves diving into the dark with me, exploring the boundaries of the sexuality she’s always been curious about but deprived of. Briony wants me to push her, just as she pushes me. But the softer side of me cost us.

Alastor has drawn a line in the sand. He was done waiting for me to complete the job. I recognized the name on a piece of I.D. from one of the men that attacked us. He was a member of the Caprano Gang. Probably a young buck, hired by Alastor, trying to make rank by partaking in a hit. The governor was an idiot for meddling where he didn’t belong. It would come back to bite him in the ass without a doubt. I wasn’t worried about those men harming us. No one fucking hunts me down and lives to tell about it. But Nox’s words rang through my head like an annoying alarm with no end.

Love has a way of making us weak.

I couldn’t admit what I was feeling for Briony was love, because love is a desolate term to me. But my obsession and commitment to that woman is far beyond anything I’ve ever felt for another living being.

I can’t be weak. Especially not with the weight of what’s to come.

I kiss those sweet, supple lips, pressing my throbbing cock against her hip. Needing to show her love isn’t the emotion pouring itself out between us. It’s endless rage.

Rage to fight when told not to. Rage to breathe when the grasp of the world around us tightens its grip. A rage to fall violently into our own realm of twisted desires, where only the demonic versions of ourselves survive in the form of twisted salvation.

She melts against my touch, falling into a puddle of needy desire in my grip. Her legs part as she rubs her greedy little cunt against my thigh, seeking relief.

“My baby aches for me,” I whisper against her lips, pulling back to look down.

Her eyes follow my gaze where she’s practically grinding a wet stain into the dark denim of my jeans. Looking back up at me with those swollen, freshly kissed lips, and a hazy look in her eyes, she simply nods.

“So fucking needy,” I comment, giving her my thigh and pressing it roughly against that swollen clit beneath those soaked panties. Her head falls back against the wall as her legs widen. “My slutty little cunt can’t get enough, huh?”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip at my words. Briony loves when I degrade her, which I find enticingly ironic because, in real life, she wouldn’t put up with any man putting her down. But with me, there’s freedom in it because she knows how I empower her in the world outside of our sex.

I slip my hand around to the back of her head, gripping her long black hair in my fist, forcing her to face the ceiling. My hand slips up beneath her uniformed skirt, brushing over the front of her thigh-high tights, removing my thigh before finding the edge of her panties. Pulling the soaked cotton to the side, I slip two fingers along her slit before pushing them up into her slippery, tight hole. She gasps, arching her back as her hands find my shoulders, nails sinking into my shirt. I remove my soaked fingers, trailing them up to her swollen, aching clit, and rub a soft circle before sinking them deep inside her again.

“Oh, God,” she moans, her eyes closing.

I release her hair before slapping the side of her face with my free hand, gripping her cheeks, as the fingers of my other hand remain lodged deep within her, curling toward myself.

“Open,” I order, needing her eyes on me.

She blinks her long, dark lashes, gasping as the fire in her gaze penetrates mine. I remove the top of the mask from my head and place it on hers. She looks confused as I pull it down over her face messily with one hand, the eye holes fitting over her piercing blues, and the mouth opening settling over her wet lips.

Pulling my fingers from her sopping pussy, I bring them to her exposed mouth, smearing her arousal across them.

“Whoever drinks of the water I give him will never be thirsty again.” I mutter the scripture as she parts her lips.

I shove the two fingers into her mouth, sliding them over her tongue to the back of her throat until she’s gagging around them, her eyes wide and watering beneath the mask.

When I pull them out, she coughs as the saliva stretches from her mouth to my fingers. I place my hand on the top of her head, pushing down until she understands and sinks to her knees before me. Placing both hands on the wall to brace myself, I gaze down at my little doll still in her pristine uniformed shirt and plaid skirt with the mask in place, on her knees before her God, ready to confess all her sins with her throat.

“Take it out,” I demand, widening my stance.

She grips the button of my jeans, popping them open before practically ripping the zipper open to release her favorite toy. Her eyes light up with fascination, as they always do when she sees my length, and her thumb immediately flicks the stud of my piercing as her soft fingers wrap around me. A deviant growl leaves my throat and my cock pulses in her soft palm, feeling the sensation travel across my body as blood floods the region to harden me like steel.

“Beautiful,” she whispers to herself, as her fingers wrap around my velvety length and begin stroking my heavy cock. They work my entire length, meeting the short dark hairs of my groin. “Devastatingly perfect.”

I’m on the verge of skull-fucking her senseless. Especially if she’s going to talk like that with my dick dangling before her face, eyes lit up like a child on Christmas.

“Open my mouth,” I demand, needing the soft warmth of her throat around me.

She rests her head back against the wall of the kitchen, her lips parting and her hands sliding up to the top of my jeans, gripping the edge and pulling them down far enough to have my cock springing free. With little warning, I brace myself on my heels and slide the tip past her lips, rolling it over her tongue, thrusting my hips forward and pushing roughly until I feel the back of her throat closing in around the crown of my cock. My balls rest against her chin, and she gags as I expected, her hands clawing at my pants to breathe. I hold myself deep until her tears fall onto the black knit mask, her mascara already bleeding beneath her eyes.

Pulling back, she gasps for air as the strings of saliva connect us.

“Spit on me,” I command.

She blinks her watery eyes up at me through the mask’s eyeholes before spitting on my stiff cock, bouncing in the air before her. Fuck, I love it. The excessive saliva drips down my shaft as I grip the top of her head tightly beneath the fabric, forcing my cock down her throat again.

Fuck me, it feels so good. Her warm, wet, accepting throat.

“Nasty little bitch,” I mutter, skull-fucking her head back against the wall. Her thighs attempt to close, but I kick her inner thigh, opening them again. “Bet you’re just dying to touch yourself, aren’t you? Aching to be full. Dying to fill that whorish cunt with all kinds of dick tonight.”

She hums around my shaft, her soft lips open further as I push deeper than her jaw will allow. She’ll be hurting tomorrow for sure.

Her tongue massages the base of my length, her eyes staying trained on mine.

“Feel what I’m about to feel, Briony,” I pant, fucking her mouth, then pushing myself deep until she’s choking around me again.

“Total.”

I thrust into her throat, then pull back out completely as she gasps for air.

“Loss.”

I force my cock deep into her throat again, only to pull out and slap her covered face with it.

“Of control.”

Slipping my cock back between her parted lips, saliva pours onto her white shirt, and her face turns red from lack of oxygen, the beautiful sounds of her gagging around my length filling the room.

I hold myself there, my balls tightening at the pleasure surging throughout my core, until her eyes glaze over and her grip on my thighs slips. Pulling back to give her a chance to breathe, I reach a hand down, stroking my wet cock in my palm before her, offering her my balls.

“Suck.”

She’s still gasping for air when her pink tongue slides out of her mouth, her swollen lips surrounding me. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I fist the tip tightly, pinching back the cum that’s already seeping from the slit. She tongues my balls, flicking her warm, wet tongue beneath my shaft, and I look down to see her gazing up at me with those insatiable eyes. Those doe-like innocent eyes that hide all the dirty things she does for her man.

I curse, pulling away from her, leaving my cock hanging between us while I try to collect myself.

I’m so close to coming already. Her teary-eyed, innocent need to please me has me losing all sense of control.

“Come here,” I hold out my hand to her, helping her to stand.

Bringing her over to the kitchen island, I lift her little frame, sitting her on the edge and removing the mask. I toss it on the floor, her long black hair remaining a tangled mess over her face. She looks wild and untamed, and every bit the dirty doll I’ve always imagined.

“You ready for some cock?” I ask, pulling her panties to the side and plunging my fingers back inside her.

She moans, arching towards me again, her thighs parting wide to allow me to step between them.

“Aero, please…” she begs, palms falling back behind her on the counter to stabilize herself as her breasts beg for release beneath her buttoned shirt. “I need you.”

Her breathy plea is all it takes for a man like me to fold.

“Beg for my cum, church girl,” I demand, wrapping my hand around the front of her neck again. “Beg me to fill you. I need you to plead for it.”

“Please, baby. Fill me. Spill yourself inside me,” she urges incessantly, tossing her head back between her shoulder blades and placing her heels on the edge of the counter, opening her hips so incredibly wide. She exposes her pink, wet little center, the soaked panties rolled to the side, making her lips appear enlarged and swollen. Her black thigh-high tights, with my blade where she keeps it, are already slipping down her thighs.

My cock is achingly throbbing to get inside her again, red at the tip, firm, and slick from her throat, but this sight before me is something I need to absorb. Fucking nasty perfection. Screaming for my cum, creamy thighs spread wide with a wet, dripping cunt just begging for me to tear through it. She’s tingling in anticipation with the tightly bound pleasure only I can give.

The only heaven I’ll ever know.

Without words, I line the head with her wet center, swirling myself with her arousal, and forcefully shove into her heat. Her walls clamp down around my shaft, holding me tight within her, and I swear, by the spasms I feel around me, she’s on the verge of orgasm already.

I hold myself deep and her head finally rises, her gaze meeting mine. Our eyes connect in a moment of silence, our open-mouthed pants mirroring one another’s. We relish in the feeling of being so interconnected, more than just the physical aspect.

Our souls beg to tear into each other, demanding we crash in the most catastrophic way. We can’t become one until I crawl into her skin and live deep within the marrow of her being the way I desire. I pull the knife I gifted her from the strap on her thigh and flick the blade open with my wrist, she eyes it wearily as I line the blade up with her inner thigh.

“Everything I’m made of demands you, Briony,” I explain, our chaotic breaths aligning as she swallows down her fears, eyeing my every move. “I am yours, and you are forever mine. Until the end of this life, then whatever life we live after that.”

I remain lodged deep within her, our eyes focused on one another as if no one else in this universe exists. Fisting the blade, I cut through her perfect flesh. Her eyes wince slightly but don’t dare come off of mine. She trusts me in a way she shouldn’t trust anyone. With everything.

Her jaw tightens as a light whimper of pain leaves her throat, and she lifts her chin more to meet mine. This is the sexiest I’ve ever seen her. Determined yet still questioning. Resilient yet slightly fearful. Emitting submission to me completely, yet knowing she’s entirely unstoppable in her own right.

My cock swells to a rock inside her, twitching within her tight grip as I carve the upside down cross into her flesh, an arrow pointing towards myself at the tip. Her eyes finally peer down at the branding that’s now dripping blood down the soft flesh of her inner thigh. The wildest, most ferocious gaze emits from her blown pupils, passion straight from the soul.

I turn the blade on myself, and she grips the handle, carving the same symbol into the flesh of my lower abdomen, oblivious to the pain as endorphins flood my mind.

“Aero,” she whispers, almost in reckoning, coming to life at this very moment.

I stare back at her intently, watching in awe and admiration as my angel falls for me.

“Briony,” I whisper.

Pulling out of her, I crouch down between her thighs, kneeling to my queen. I lick the freshly cut wound, healing my harm with my tongue. Her thigh quivers at the sensation, the warmth of her blood smearing across my lips and down my chin before I stand before her again.

Without warning, she reaches out, gripping my neck, and pulls me forward, the knife dropping to the floor beneath us. In a hurried and reckless rush, she kisses me, licking her blood with wicked strokes as I slide my cock back inside her, speaking to my soul entirely with our tangled tongues as we begin fucking and bleeding together.

There’s a knock on the door around the corner that pulls her attention from me.

He’s here.

But it doesn’t stop me. If anything, my cock grows with the realization of what we’re doing. I continue to give her what she needs, fucking her roughly on the kitchen counter until she screams into my palm, held tight over her face. Her nails tear into the flesh of my neck down to the top of my pecs as she convulses around me, losing herself to the sensations.

Gripping her hair around my fist, I pull her back from my lips and look down at my cock sliding in and out of her tight, dick-hungry pussy, seeing her cum coating the length of me.

I fuck her until I finally lose myself, biting the curve where her neck meets her shoulder to stifle my roar as I release deep within her walls until we’re both dripping down onto the floor beneath us.

The knock is louder this time.

“Be right there!” she calls out in a cracked tone, her chest still heaving and her cautious eyes on mine.

We share a silent look. One that empowers us with confident reassurance while pleading that this monumental moment to come won’t change us.