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“Of course, Faith. Anything,” he says, his voice breathy and delicious.
I clench my jaw. His submission is delicious. Too delicious, as it’s making me swoon so hard I’m starting to see hearts in my eyes. Get it together, girl.
“You’re going to let me into your little company so I can find a truly reprehensible soul to torment,” I say, keeping my voice as even as possible.
Byron laughs again, and I squeeze my thighs tight together. “Sure. I can do that, beautiful.”
“Stop trying to sweet-talk me.”
“Stop making it so easy, then,” he snipes back. Ugh. Banter. I loathe banter. Without thinking, I snap my fingers and dark, sweet-smelling vines rush forward from behind the bakery case and wind themselves around Byron and the chair, pinning him in place. They wrap tight across his abs, his chest, his thighs, and firmly plant his cock up straight across his navel. At first, he struggles against the confectionary ropes, wincing as they tighten across his skin. His complexion pales, and I frown.
“Vines. Loosen,” I command them, and they relax ever so slightly. Color returns to Byron’s skin, and I nod. “Is that more comfortable? How do they feel?”
Byron lets out a low grunt as he strains against the vines. “Perfect. But, uh… are you seriously tying me up with candy right now?”
“You bet your sweet cheeks I am,” I say with a wink. “You have to work with what you’ve got, after all.”
7
BYRON
I’m as hard as freshly forged steel, and the blood pumping in my veins is just as hot when Faith looms over me, her heel on the edge of my chair. She grabs hold of my hair and yanks it. Hard. I let out a grunt as she jerks my head to the side. I know I practically begged for this, but I’m beginning to have regrets.
“This is going to be fun,” she purrs. Precum runs down my length. Such a traitor my dick turned out to be. She hasn’t even done anything to me, and already I’m weak for her. I want her. Need her. And I’d be willing to do just about anything to get her.
“I can already smell your arousal, too,” she murmurs into my ear, and before I can answer, her tongue darts across my earlobe, sending a chill down my spine. And then I feel them—the forks on her slender tongue running down my lobe, exploring the warm skin of my neck. “Your sweat tastes of fear and obedience. I crave more of it.”
“You’ll have it, then, Faith,” I answer her hoarsely. “Anything you need.”
It’s the correct answer, because a small smirk graces her plush lips. Lips I desperately crave on my cock as soon as possible. But there was no way she’s going to give me what I want. After all, this is about what I need. And I need to get theshit kicked out of me if there’s going to be any hope of changing myself. The licorice rope keeping me tied to the chair slowly unfurls, leaving me naked and free… and feeling bereft, for some reason. As though sensing my disappointment, Faith smiles at me, showing off a bit of fang. Adorable, in a wild sort of way.
“Don’t worry,” she coos, and then the same vines that retreated seconds ago wrap around my wrists and pull my forearms together. “All part of the game.”
The vines crack like leather whips as they shoot up to the ceiling, taking me along with them. In one sudden, terrifying movement, I’m hanging from the ceiling, spread eagle in the air. Faith walks around me slowly and runs two of her claws along my backside. Goosebumps emerge on my skin, and she swats my leg playfully.
“Comfortable? Feel any loss of circulation in any of your body parts?” she asks. Despite being a literal Hell demon, she’s considerate. It doesn’t seem like she wants to actually wreck my shit. Not in any sort of permanent way, at least, though that remains to be seen. Who knows? Maybe after having her way with me, she’ll throw me into a vortex or feed me to a hellbeast. I should be out of my mind scared right now, yet being tied up like this is oddly… freeing. It feels good. Feels right.
“Very,” I answer, and Faith smiles. This time, it’s genuine and reaches her eyes. She’s so lovely when she smiles, but I know better than to tell her that because I like my balls attached to my body. “Thank you.”
“It’s no fun if your arms and legs fall off because I didn’t take proper care of you before tearing you apart,” she says, and I smirk at the flatness in her voice. I know deep down somewhere, she’s enjoying herself, too. “Have you ever taken it from a woman before?”
I blink as she walks underneath my muscular frame and runs her palm across the length of my cock, still erect and hangingdown towards the floor. Shuddering, I mutter, “N-No. You mean, have I ever let a woman top me before?”
“That’s exactly what I mean, yes,” she lilts. “I will have you submit completely to me, Byron. Otherwise, none of this will work as intended.”
“How does this work, even?” I rasp. For all I know, she could just be beating me for her own sadistic pleasure.
“The more you submit and orgasm, the better my magic can weave into your body and coax your troubled soul,” she says as she slaps me on the ass.
My eyes light up. “So, there will be orgasms, then?”
“I love that’s what you took away from that,” she mutters, followed by a sigh. “Yes. Sexual energy will help me unfuck your soul like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. Or… that’s my theory, anyway.”
My brows slam together. “Your theory.”
“Yeah, I told you back in the apartment. I don’t do this sort of thing. I’m not in the soul reformation department! That’s a totally different thing! Just let me work,” she hisses.
“Okay, okay… sorry,” I mutter.
