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Leaning forward, I press my face into her lap, inhaling deeply. How I’ve longed to scent her again. Resisting was so incredibly difficult.
Her breath hitches, the only sign of her surprise and I press closer into her, until there’s no space left between us, until I can feel the rush of blood in her veins…the pulse at her center.
“I hate you,” she whispers.
My lips curve into a smile. Ahh, music to my ears.
Hatred is the highest form of devotion. It consumes the soul, spreading like a cancer to taint everything it touches. Such all-encompassing loathing has far more weight than fleeting notions of love.
And I revel in it.
No sweeter words could she possibly speak to me. Her hatred is a gift, proof that I have left an indelible mark upon her soul. While love fades, hatred endures.
“I don’t want to see you in pain,” I growl against her slacks. “Never again.”
For even though I relish in sin, pain, and torment, what I crave most is her pleasure. Not the fleeting highs mortals chase, but a darker ecstasy. I want to push her to the brink, draw out her carnal hunger, awaken desires she never knew she had.
I will show her pleasures to make the heavens weep. Raw, primal, and obscene. I will wring every ounce of bliss from her mortal flesh, consume her mind with lust, make her beg for sins to match my own. Her pleasure will be tainted by darkness and depravity.
She will come to crave my touch, the wicked delights only I can give. I will ruin her for any mortal lover. She will know satisfaction only in my arms, surrender herself fully to the profane passions I unleash in her. Mind, body, and hollowed soul—I will have her pleasure utterly.
Before she can protest, I rip her slacks in two, her pale skin baring itself to me as I press my face into the center of her thighs. One more flick of a finger and her panties are in shreds at her feet. Her thick musk envelops me immediately and I groan so loud the walls shake.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve imagined this. Imagined her. And though my angel is pure, this scent—her arousal—is potent.
My tongue flicks out, lapping at her, tasting her, teasing her. It’s like nectar from Satan’s garden. Her thighs tense in response, her muscles contracting as she tries to resist.
“So sweet,” I groan.
Pressing my mouth against her again, ecstasy fills me at the way she shudders, moaning above me. I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue against it. Elara shudders, stumbling back until her naked ass presses into the edge of my desk. Hands gripping the edge, I can see the tension in her fists as she holds on tight.
“That’s it, sweet angel,” I murmur against her clit. “Let me taste you.”
Elara whimpers as I suck her into my mouth again, sliding the little nub between the forked section of my tongue and fucking it within the groove. It pulses against me, throbbing as I lap at her before nibbling on the sensitive skin.
And my angel can’t resist. Her hips buck, pressing into my lips as a moan wracks from her frame. Her legs fall open wider, granting me better access to her dripping pussy as my saliva mixes with her honey to drip to the floor beneath us.
My fingers trace the swollen lips, gathering moisture as they slide along her slit and down to her ass. I trace the edges of her tight little hole, spreading her cheeks and pressing my index finger against the little puckered bud.
She’s so wet. So perfect. I add another digit and then another, sliding both into her pussy, needing to stretch her, needing to feel her suck me in.
A shuddered breath huffs out from her lips as she moans. “Bax—”
“Yes, angel. Take me in.”
The image of her becoming undone on my tongue is everything.
I know I’m being selfish, but I’m not thinking of her. I’m thinking of myself. I want to make her feel more than good, I want to make her feel pleasure so intense, it will consume her.
My tongue is relentless, the hot, slick muscle lashing against her pussy, and I watch my angel fall apart. I feel her muscles clench and release, her inner walls clenching around my finger.
Warm honey flows from her pussy into my mouth and I lap it up, sucking and licking until she does it again, her body shuddering with the force of an orgasm. Her muscles pulsing, contracting against my fingers, her mouth hanging open as she pants and moans, her hands gripping the desk for dear life, her eyes closed.
I find my cock dripping with pre-cum, straining against the fly of my slacks, wanting to be buried deep inside her again.
“I hate you so much,” she whispers, fresh tears forming in her eyes.
What little heart I have left shatters.
