Page 5

A boiling lust stirred in his cock till a groan of ecstasy built in his chest. “I can’t…” His breaths turned thick as the heat spread into his lungs and muscles. The darkness cleared in his vision, revealing what lay before him. “Oh fuck.”

The Bellatore’s breaths turned frantic. “Kollaborator.”

Pleasure detonated in his blood at the way she called his name this time. And the way she squirmed in the restraints. Theway her shaved mound moved with the undulating flicks of her hips.

“Please,” she whispered, her head thrashing behind the blindfold.

There was no doubting what she begged for. She wanted… no she needed what snaked around his muscles and sent him crawling ever so slowly onto that bed, gaze locked on target. “Bellatore.”

A raging hunger burned his skin and bones till his every breath shook. “I fucking want you. God… help me.”

The only entity that heard was the God of Lust. It answered with a tongue of fire on the very tip of his cock, licking, licking, licking till he grunted and ground against the bed, eyes on her begging, flicking pussy.

“Just do it,” she gasped. “Please. I… I want it!” she gushed, her breath catching and straining.

He latched his hands to her upper thighs, pressing her into the bed as his groans turned into low, greedy rumbles of diabolical intent. “You want it my sweet, Bellatore.”

He fought to give a single fuck about the real answer to that as he gazed at what he wanted more than air.

“Reuban.”

The decadent mewl suckled his balls and brought his gaze up the line of her body. He found her hands now free and squeezing her perfect tits, then nipples into tight points.

“Fuck yes,” he whispered as she snaked her hands down her stomach. “Bellatore,” he accused eagerly between guttural breaths, watching all her fingers move along her open folds. He moved his face right before the show. “You have such a fucking beautiful cunt, don’t you?”

“I’m begging you,” she strained, holding her lips open for him.

“Oh fuck, you are,” he whispered, kissing the silk of her inner thigh, never imagining a sight could be so pleasurable. “You didn’t know it could feel like this,” he realized, taking a single swipe at her clit with the tip of his tongue as he pressed his raging cock into the bed.

“Please!” she shot out. “Do it like that. I’ll do anything you want, just… please!”

He worked his fingers between hers and laced them in his tight grip. “Hold on to me, beautiful angel,” he said, eyeing her squirming hips till he burned from the delicious sight of it. “I’m going to give your pussy the most wicked kiss it will ever get.”

He descended with a growl, gripping her hands tight as he ground his mouth against her open folds, sucking both lips, licking and nipping as he went. Her shocked shrieks of ecstasy momentarily stole his breath then sent them out in feral growls as he rammed his tongue in her fucking perfect cunt. He did that a good ten times, each assault marking him till he seethed with a possessive fury for her. He released her hands and slid his under her succulent firm ass and jerked her clit against the rough surface of his tongue till her fingers pulled in his hair with angelic abandon.

Reuban’s head banged against something, and he blinked, staring at the windshield, his breaths ragged and loud. He jerked right, finding the Bellatore panting with her eyes clenched tight, hands gripping the seat.

His hand went on a frantic search for the door handle and finally opened it. His legs refused him service and he hit the ground before crawling a few feet and managing to slam the door shut with his back against it. His lungs burned along with the rest of his body, the lust still as thick as ever along with the very vivid images of what he’d seen.

Hoooooly fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck. That... was going to leave one hell of a mark.

He heard the passenger door open and closed his eyes, bracing for what wrath might come next. He was suddenly yanked to his feet like he weighed nothing and got the broad side of a tiny fist of dynamite.

His back slammed into the vehicle, shattering the window. Before he could fall to the ground, that same little hand held him up by the shirt, peering right into his gaze. “I’m the Bellatore! The Angel of Mothers!” she yelled in his face. “How dare you do that to me? Is this how you protect me, how youhelpme? You sexuallyviolateme?”

“I tried to tell you to stop! Ijust told youI have these powers I can’t control, Itoldyou, and there you go, shoving your fucking way in!”

He was suddenly sailing through the air and eating dirt a dozen feet away.

She stalked over to him. “You ever touch me like that again and I will rip your fucking head off and feed it to the next demon I fuck!”

He watched her storm back to the vehicle, her threat setting off a bomb of fury and dark lusts that hauled him to his feet and sent him psycho-stalking after her. He intercepted her at the passenger door, putting his nose inches from hers. “You surely will not befuckinga demon. Or ahuman. Or ahumanwitha demon, not as long as I have breath in me.”

She plowed her knee into his balls, dropping him to the ground where he choked for air. “That was easily arranged, little nebulous trifecta boy.” She shoved him onto his side with a single punch of her little foot and in that second, he realized something very interesting. With every second between them,trifectaboy was discerning new tricks involving the King’s abilities now roiling in his blood. Like he could’ve easily caught that foot and detonated a catastrophic ecstasy that would render her begging on her knees before him. The powers had slowed hermovements in his mind, showing him exactly where to capture the delicate appendage and the pathways to use for delivering the wicked blow.

“Hurry up, we are late now!”

He was suddenly a flipped hourglass as he made his way to his feet and around the vehicle. He climbed in, a quiet, eager student to the Three Kings now delivering clarity to his purpose. He wasn’t a fourth wheel with the trio, he was the Kollaborator of their powers. Every ability they had now came with a knowledge of how to mix them into inconceivable concoctions that would devastate unto pain or pleasure, both to be determined by context of a confrontation.