Cain’s words disturbed my thoughts. “What’s your choice, Phoenix?”
“I. . .want to live.”
“You don’t try to escape.” He pushed the handle an inch inside me.
I tensed.
He growled, “Repeat that.”
“I-I won’t escape.”
Bullshit. As soon as I get the chance, I’m out of here.
He gave me a wicked grin as if hearing my thoughts and loving the challenge. “You stay in the chapel. If someone comes, then I put you in here.”
Who would come? Would they help me?
“Say it,” he growled.
“I understand.”
He pushed the handle deeper inside me.
I stiffened. My pussy warmed and hugged the metal, probably not sure of why the object was raiding its wetness. My body drummed with desire. I couldn’t get a hold of who or what I was anymore. There, I rode this erotic bliss from being pleasured from the blade of a knife and now a handle.
I didn’t know if I was learning about myself or losing my mind.
He slipped the handle out of me and then held it up between us. The tip glistened with my juices. I was embarrassed and mortified. He breathed it in. “Every inch of you smells delightful. Did you know that?”
I gazed back at him in horror. “No. I didn’t.”
He licked my wetness off the handle.
My pussy clenched. My mouth opened wider in shock.
What the hell is wrong with him?
Groaning, he stared back at me with heavy lids. “When the fourth day comes, you take my brothers and me to the meeting spot.”
“I will.”
His lashes fluttered as if he was losing control. “Do you want to cum?”
The question stunned me. “I. . .don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know?”
“Because I’m just trying to live another day.”
“What’s the point of surviving another day if there isn’t an orgasm in it?”
I blinked.
“Do you want to cum, Phoenix?”
My voice went low. “Yes.”
He dropped the knife. The metal clattered against the ground. I jumped back, unsure of what would happen next.
To my surprise, he lowered to his knees.
I stared down at him.
Cain lapped at my clit, wet from my juices and drops of blood.
I let my head fall back. “Oh!”
He spread my legs open wider and then placed them on his shoulders.
“Oh!” I wished I could pull down my bound hands.
He sucked on my bloodied clit, triggering ungodly pleasure to ripple through me.
Again, I became embarrassed by how my body betrayed me.
Groaning, he gripped my hips, holding me into place and forcing me to take the sensual brutality of his tongue.
I rocked into his mouth, loving the rising pleasure. I relished in how his mouth dominated my pussy.
He pushed two fingers inside of me. And my pussy welcomed the rough digits. His mouth worked my pussy. His fingers fucked me to perfection.
He drove those skilled fingers in and out of me. He lapped my wet clit in broad strokes with his tongue. Every movement delivered waves of satisfaction.
I was close to explosion. “Oh!”
Then, he pushed a third finger inside of me.
An intense orgasm sliced through me.
A moan ripped from my throat. “Oh!”
Climaxing, I lost my breath and ability to see. It all crashed into me. The pain and the pleasure, the desperation and ecstasy.
“Oh!” Tears spilled from my eyes. I didn’t know if I cried from ecstasy or the horror of it all.
It didn’t matter.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.” I came hard in the torture room—his soul coffin. The place where he maimed and killed, sliced and bled. In that rusty, metal-walled space, stained in blood, I burst from an explosion of adrenaline-soaked cells and dopamine-blasted hormones, head spiraling and spinning, heart twisting and dropping, soul waterfalling into a murky abyss of erotic darkness.
Cain gave my pussy a long, slow lick.
“Oh!” I trembled so hard from the aftershocks of the orgasm and his tongue. My body jerked.
Holy shit!
My chest rose and fell fast.
What was that?
Cain rose. His dick was still out of his pants, hard and jutting my way. He grabbed my hips with both hands and lifted me off the hook.
Are we done?
When my feet planted on the ground, I fell forward, not ready for the weight.
He caught me. My bare, bloodied breasts smoothed against his warm, chiseled chest. Heat and power radiated off him.
Hunger dripped each of his words. “Now, my turn.”
Catching my breath, I whispered, “Okay.”
“Get on the floor.”
Shivering, I went down to my knees. Drops of my blood dotted the cold ground.
“Open your mouth.”
I gazed up at him and did exactly as he ordered.
Cain captured the back of my head and ran his fingers through my hair. “Squeeze your nipples.”
Lust vibrated inside of me. I pinched the hungry points.
“Swirl the blood around them.”
O-kay.
My breathing grew hard as I obeyed. It was an odd thing, playing with my own blood and painting my areolas with it. My wounds still dripped and leaked. Coming down from my natural high, the wounds now ached more than ever.
He stroked my cheek. “You’re going to be a lot of fun in these next days. Do you understand that?”