Sinners' Kingdom #1: The Book of Lust (Complete)

3

"Ngh... Ah."

The small sounds escaping me grew louder, breathier. It figured that I could make no noises at all until now, and when I finally managed it, it was to make these pathetic noises. They were not moans. I refused to call them that. I would never let my body betray me so miserably. They were just... the sound of air escaping me, that was all.

"Immaculate," he whispered. His finger stroked me, the tip entering and pulling out in a tantalizing rhythm. It made it worse, forcing me to acknowledge the noises building between my thighs, the slick noises of my entrance as he teased it to life. "Imagine what it'll feel like to take me in here, love. You'll feel so good you'll never want to let me go."

He was an egotistical bastard. Who did he think he was? Who did he think I was? I wasn't some easy lay seduced in her dreams by a fake sex curse. Like I would ever be so helpless and pathetic.

"Ah!"

My hips bucked again when he squeezed a second finger inside. It was so warm, so big. Oh, God. Now he was stroking in and out with both fingers, widening me a little more with every pump.

"I haven't even put in more than the tip," he teased. "Let's go a little deeper."

"No—"

I did it. I was coherent that time, even if it was quiet and sounded more like a moan than a word. But my body made all the herculean effort moot when it shuddered like a shot engine, spasming around his fingers as they slid further in, like they wanted to swallow up the rest. But God, they were so rough and hot and insistent, and even the smallest movements stimulated me effortlessly. I closed my eyes to block him out, willing my body to obey me instead of buckling like a house of cards.

"No. I want you to watch me."

Something slid under my shoulders and upper back, soft and slow. It expanded, lifting me up and propping me there. What was that? It felt like a stack of pillows elevating my torso, soft and sinking. The new angle made the sensations between my thighs even more unbearable, sweet heat pooling everywhere he touched and stroked, but the worst was yet to come.

A force pried my eyelids open. I stared into the face grinning at me from inches away, drowning in its predatory hunger.

"Watch me," he said. "I want you to see everything I do to you."

My eyes refused to close. I fought the compulsion keeping them open with all my might, teeth grinding. "Not real," I said. "Just a dream. You have no power over me." That was right. Keep chanting, resist, remind myself this was all fake. My mind would catch on, and the dream would fade. I only had to focus. "I'm real. You aren't. This is a dream. You're not here."

He smiled, though whether it was at my words or because my voice was so weak and whispery, I didn't know. He licked his bottom lip, the shapeshifting tongue flicking out with a challenging swipe.

"What are dreams but little worlds inside you? This is very real, love. And the way I make you come will be real, too."

There was no time to prepare myself. His only warning was a brief flash of white fangs as his grin widened—and he shoved a third finger into me, pumping with abandon. He spread my knees wider, opening me up, and with each stroke, he penetrated me deeper and deeper until he was slamming his knuckles against my slit. Oh—oh, God! His fingers were so long and hot, and with three inside me, I stretched and burned around each furious pump. But instead of hurting, it only made the pain searingly sweet and overwhelming, made my body clench around his fingers and grow wetter, louder, tighter—

"Give in," he breathed. "Your body was made to be fucked. Give me your pussy, Sable."

He knew my name. My name! With a broken moan, my trembling thighs jerked and spread, exposing me completely. I was close, too close, and now he was fucking me even faster and harder even though it should be impossible. The wet sounds of my entrance slicking around him filled the room. He groaned as he hooked his fingers and stroked hard against my walls, exploring me everywhere he could reach. And he could reach everywhere. His thumb grazed my clit, making me jump, tighten. Then he touched it again, and again, and again, harder each time.

"Don't come yet. Suffer. Watch me fuck you until you're begging for my cock."

Oh, please, no—no, I couldn't give in, I was better than this, stronger than this, and I would never lose to a stupid curse. Not even one that made me shudder and jerk and cry out as he forced my body to buck against his hand, starving and wet. The slippery noises intensified.

"Good girl, Sable. You're such a good girl. Now come for me."

I screamed as I came, spine locked while my pussy flooded with a slick, panicked rush. All color and light bleached into a pulsating supernova, walls spasming around his pumping fingers so violently shocked tears sprang to my eyes. My entrance fluttered around him as I sobbed through my climax, but his thumb never left my aching clit, rubbing fiery circles into it with such force that it made me orgasm yet again before the first waves finished. My hips stuttered and jerked, all of my senses careening out of control as he forced me to come over and over with merciless strokes and rubs.

"Good girl. Keep coming. Don't stop. Come for me."

I couldn't defy him. My body was lead and fire, refusing to obey me but a slave to his hunger. He fucked me faster and harder as I cried out, begging for mercy, and again I climaxed over his hand, slippery and desperate.

I had never felt like this in my life. Never been touched like this before. I didn't even know my body was capable of feeling something so—good.

He let me go with one final penetration, though he flicked my clit one last time. I moaned.

"That's my good girl. Now I'm going to fuck you with my mouth."