Page 20 of Fear No Hell

Sam takes me to the floor with jerking movements, laying me down in the blood, which has somehow risen in the last few minutes.

It’s inches deep now, deep enough that it reaches the shell of my ears.

I barely notice the way my hair is floating around me in the gory lake, the crimson staining the dark strands, because Sam is shoving his pants down and dropping to his knees in between my legs, splattering blood along the fragile skin of my thighs and stomach.

I can’t pay attention to the tiny specks of other people’s lifeblood staining my skin.

Simply put, all I can see is Sam. His lean body, muscular and still somehow soft.

The tattoo I noticed earlier, a sigil of some kind, the base of which looks like a pitchfork with shapes forking from it in both directions.

His hard cock standing erect in front of him, long and thick.

My mouth waters, and I reach for him, my claws flaring as I dig them into his hips and drag him towards me.

“Lila,” he whispers.

“Pet, I don’t want to have to tell you again,” I purr, wrapping my hand around his dick and rubbing him along the outside lips of my pussy. Soaking him in the wetness drenching me. “Be a good boy and fuck me. Now.”

He obeys beautifully, positioning himself at my entrance and punching his hips forward, driving halfway into me in one thrust.

“Oh, gods,” I scream as he grits out a strangled “fuck” and drops forward, his hands slapping down on either side of my head.

For a long moment, we just stare at each other. Lips parted, sharing air as we gasp into the other’s mouth.

Then he draws his hips back until only the head of his cock is still inside of me.

“That’s right, pet,” I whisper, tracing my hand over his chest, circling his tattoo with one stained fingertip. The red wetness I spread over the thick black lines shines brightly before it vanishes, absorbed by his tattoo like it was never there.

Sam’s eyes swirl like dark vortexes. Any concern lingering there vanishes in favor of something that looks more like lustful reverence.

“My sweetness.” He pushes back to his knees, his bloody hands settling onto my hips.

“My queen.” He pounds into me hard and fast. His cock is almost too much for me to take, the sting from his thickness so good, so perfect. "My goddess."

“Gods, yes,” I scream as he thrusts into me over and over again.

I’m so wet I can feel my own slickness on my thighs, sliding down my skin with each thrust until it mixes with the gore below us.

Filthy sounds surround us—the slick slap of skin against skin, the sloshing of the bloody lake around us—broken only by my throaty cries and Sam’s groans.

My skin is too tight for the desire stretching inside me.

I’m thrashing under my sweet doctor’s frantic fucking, not caring that my hair is sticking to my face or that the world is painted in shades of red or that there’s a decapitated head three feet away from us, its lifeless eyes wide open and witnessing everything.

Nothing matters now except the feeling of Sam driving in and out of me, the pulse of him inside of me as he gets closer to the edge. His desperate pleas.

I need to come; I need Sam to fill me with his cum until it pours out of me.

I’m so close...

My beautiful pet can sense what I need, and he tilts my hips up with one hand as he pumps deep into me. His cock rubs along my interior wall, dragging over nerves no one has ever touched before.

“Right there!” I keen, writhing, tearing at him with my claws, my body on fire from his hunger and need. His skin parts under my claws as he fucks me hard and thorough, ripping every layer of fear and self-doubt away.

My cries are near constant now, echoing off the walls around us. “Be a good boy and make me come,” I demand savagely.

His face contorts, and then he’s slamming into me, harder than I ever thought I would enjoy, rubbing his length along my g-spot and dropping a hand to play with my aching clit, rolling it between his fingers before pinching it hard.

That final twist of pain is exactly what I need. It rips through me, shattering me into a million shards of pleasure. I shriek as the edges of my vision blur, my body seizes under his, my pussy clamps around him.

“Oh fuck, Lila, please, please,” Sam pleads. “Fuck, please—”

“Fill me with your cum,” I half scream.

And that’s all he needs.

One-two-three pumps later, and Sam’s head falls back, his black eyes never leaving mine.

“Fuck, yes.” The unholy roar rips out of him as he bares his own fangs and explodes deep inside of me.

Energy fills me with each pump of his cum.

“You feel so goddamn good, Lila, sweetness, please take fucking all of me.” With another curse, he falls forward, driving his fangs into my—

***

I wake with a start, my hand between my legs, my back seizing as I fall apart, wave after wave of pleasure wracking my body as I cry Sam’s name over and over and over again, so loudly I’m scared I might wake him up.

The fear of him hearing isn’t enough to stop me from coming harder than I ever have before.

As jarringly sudden as my waking, my climax tapers off, my fingers soaking wet, and my body practically boneless. I lay there gasping, staring blindly at the ceiling as I process everything that happened.

The dream is all too vivid in my mind, every single second of it a stark memory. What sticks out most to me isn’t the sexual component, no matter how incredible that part was.

What has me shaken is the clear vision of the Sam from my dream: eyes black, shadows filling his veins and lining his face, fangs dropped. He looked like…

My hand lifts to cover my mouth as I realize what his appearance reminds me of.

He looked like a daimon of old. One of the dark monsters my mother told my sisters and me about when we were children.

I force my limp body up to rest against the headboard, still untethered from interrupted sleep and residual arousal.

What the actual fuck was that?