Page 24 of His to Ruin

He tenses up like a bowstring and a pleading cry rips from him. His hands fly down instinctively, one grasping at my wrist as if to halt the intrusion. I catch his panicked gaze and pin him with a stern look. “Shh, you can handle it,” I assure, though my tone brooks no argument. “Be good for me.”

His fingers tremble against my forearm. For a moment, I wonder if he might protest, but then I feel him force himself to relax, accepting the stretch. The trust inherent in that surrender sends a surge of possessive hunger through me. He’s giving himself over, completely.

“There you go,” I murmur, easing my third finger in until it joins the others fully. He’s so impossibly tight around me, stretched near his limit. I can feel him quivering as his body strains to accommodate the sensation. “Such a good human for me.”

I reward him with another press to his sweet spot, and his resistance melts into need once more. Soon, he’s rocking against my hand, fucking himself on my three fingers as best he can while I hold him open.

“Look at you, making a mess on my hand and the couch. So eager to be filled, aren’t you?” Christian whimpers in response; his cheeks burning. I know if he could form words, he’d be begging outright now.

I can’t wait any longer. My own cock throbs painfully, demanding its due. The head flares almost angrily as a bead of molten precum dribbles down. I catch Christian’s gaze flick downward once more to where my shaft lies heavyagainst my abdomen, and his breath stutters. From his angle, he can likely see it clearly now—see what all this preparation has been building to.

His eyes widen a fraction and he looks back up at me, flushed lips parted. There’s fear there, yes, but also longing. Acceptance.

15

CHRISTIAN

I’m delirious. Utterly and completely intoxicated with the pleasure being ripped from my body. He is somehow everywhere, touching all of me. His hands, his tongue, his lips, and his shadows—all of them caressing me inside and out. My monster and my lover rolled into one beautiful nightmare.

“Such a good little pet,” he coos from between my legs as his fingers thrust in and out of me, curling to pet a spot inside of me that has me seeing stars.

Sweat pools along my skin, dripping to the creaking couch cushions beneath our bodies. The small therapist’s couch expanded, widened to accommodate Kallum’s true form. He’s a beast—large and imposing with dark shadows swirling from the jagged edges of his form. The purple hue of his skin is so unnatural. A single lock of dark hair has fallen from its place on his head as he feasts upon my flesh. He raises his head, smiling at me as he licks his lips with his unholy tongue, his long sharpened teeth glinting in the low light as he does.

“You taste absolutely delicious, my Little Nightmare,” hegroans in delight as he raises himself up. The talons of his fingers dig into the pale skin of my hips.

“You’re not real,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

“Doesthisnot feel real?” He punctuates his question with a deep thrust of his fingers.

I can’t stop the deep moan that rumbles my chest. It burns and the stretch is unforgiving, and yet the pleasure building in my core is electric. I want—no, Ineedmore.

“Please, Kallum,” I whimper as more precum drips from the throbbing tip of my cock.

His fingers leave me. My backside clenches at the loss. His fingers thread into my hair and his sharp claws scrape my scalp. The pain is a relief—it’s grounding, sending me back down from the high I’d just been soaring through. I gasp as his tongue licks along the shell of my ear. His throbbing length, thick and dripping, grinds against my belly.

“You want me to fuck you, pet?” Kallum whispers before letting his devilish tongue slide along the column of my neck. He laps at my pulse point, teasing me. “Say it. Say you want your demon daddy to fill your ass with cum.”

My heart pounds aggressively against my ribcage. Do I give in to him? Let him carve me open and claim me as his own? Should I sink into his dark depravity and revel in the chaos? Do I give him all of me?

“Please, demon, claim me,” I grit out against my better judgment.

The responding growl of approval from the beast behind me has my cock pulsing. He’s as desperate for me as I am for him. This madness between us only seems to deepen, spreading through our veins like an incurable infection, each time I fall asleep and dream of him.

With an inhuman ease, he flips me, turning my body so I’m lying on my back. The couch beneath us is no longer a couch.I’m lying on a bed. Crisp white sheets scrape against my sensitive skin. A metal frame is visible above the top and bottom of the mattress I’m sprawled upon. The rest of the room is barren darkness, it’s just us—my monster and me.

“Say it again,” he growls as shadows whip out from his thick fingers, wrapping around my wrists and ankles.

He spreads me wide, pulling my limbs to each corner of the bed below. I’m held firmly by shadows that wrap around the bedpost, keeping me spread and exposed. A white robe sits at the bottom of the bed, something about it pricks at a frayed edge of a memory buried deep in the recesses of my mind, but I can’t grasp it, not with the way Kallum is staring at me. The dark ink staining his skin seems to pulse with anticipation. His black eyes rake down my form, drinking in my vulnerability, my excitement, my need. His long forked tongue comes out to lick his lips.

“I want you, Kallum,” I tell him as I watch him explore my body with his eyes.

He grips his throbbing purple member, spitting on it and stroking the saliva down his length. My mouth goes dry at the sight. He’s big and long and covered in swirling ink. It’s an impressive cock. But the thought of taking it again leaves my lungs tightening in anticipation. I’m terrified of how badly I want him.

“Ready, my Little Nightmare?” he asks. His tone is all smoke and sin as he lines himself up with my aching entrance.

“Fuck me already,” I snap as my hips rise off the bed eagerly.

“As you wish, pet,” he coos before thrusting forward.