Page 29 of Unseen

He stalked towards me, spinning me around so my back was against his chest. His mouth roved over my bare shoulder, up the curve of my neck, and my skin erupted in goosebumps as the touch sent shivers down my spine.

“Tell me everything.” He repeated the words as he unbuttoned the bodice of my dress. “Tell me what you like, what you do not like. Everything.”

“I- I do not know… I do not know enough.” I shook my head against his shoulder as he pulled the sleeves of the dress down my arms. “I have barely seen anything, I know nothing of the world.”

“And of your pleasure?”

I gasped out a laugh as his hands worked at the laces of my skirt. “Of that even less.”

“And this?” He forced a hand into my stays, finding a bunched nipple and squeezing it hard. “Do you like this?”

“N-no?” I did not know why it was a question, I did not know how he had already so successfully dismantled my defences. I was turning into jelly at his touch, my legs weak and my skin heating with every brush of his mouth. “I hate it. I hate being touched by you.”

“Even when I pleasure you with my fingers?”

I nodded, feeling my stays come away as he tore at the laces.

“My mouth?” He forced the half-undone stays down my body where they came to land around my legs.

“Yes.” I breathed as he peeled my chemise up around my waist. “I hate all of you. Every touch.”

He turned my face roughly towards his, kissing me as his fingers opened me up. I squirmed, moaning into his mouth as he stroked my bud.

“Even this?” He asked against my lips, and I nodded.

“Yes.” I shuddered, my fingertips clawing into his hips. “None of this is… Oh… Because I want it.”

“I force you, do I?”

“You know… You do.” My head fell back into the crook of his neck as I moaned. “That’s how you like it, isn’t it? Me, at your mercy? Helpless, unable to… Oh god.” I shuddered as he slipped a finger inside me. “This is not pleasure, it is… It is…”

“Say it,” he murmured against my ear. “Say it.”

Rape. I couldn’t say the word because even now I could not truthfully tell myself that I didn’t want it.

He had me in such a state, taking and giving, and overwhelming every single one of my senses, that I did not know which way was up anymore.

It was like drowning. Like falling through the ice and not remembering which way led to air.

My hesitation seemed to please him, and a soft laugh rumbled through his chest. “Let go, Evie. Free yourself of all this.”

Heat bloomed in my belly, and I bit my lips together. I was shaking now, sagging against him, so close to the edge. Stop. Stop. I screamed the words in my head, knowing saying them out loud was pointless. My breath hitched in my throat, that now-familiar pressure building low… When he stopped.

I whined, a noise that caught me by surprise, my hips rolling against him. I was filled with need whether I wanted it or not, and the agony of being so close was painful .

“Azriel,” I gasped, and his arms were around my waist, lifting me off my feet and hauling me across the room to my bed.

He threw me down, and I flipped quickly onto my back, shuffling up the bed as he unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to the floor.

His member was stiff and slick, his own arousal already dripping from the tip.

His eyes dark with lust, he crawled onto the bed towards me. He paused at my hips, gazing down at the dark bush of hair between my legs. He buried his face in it, and my back bowed, my fingers raking through his hair.

Every move I made belonged to someone else, to another woman, a harlot possessed by need and want, who ached for this beast to bury himself inside her and fill all of her with his seed. It was almost a dream state, watching myself from the corner of the room.

But no, it was me, me who cried out as Azriel’s mouth pleasured the most intimate parts of her. It was me who dragged him up to her, me who watched with open delight as he positioned himself between her thighs and shoved his length inside her.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, crying out as his mouth covered mine.

He reached down to hitch my leg up over his hip, and I was sure he would break me.

I was sure I was about to split in half.

But I was hungry for it. Desirous for it to hurt.

I wanted the pain. I wanted to feel it every time I moved.

I wanted to be punished.

“I’m going to fuck you in his bed next, wife,” Azriel said breathlessly, not breaking his rhythm.

“I’m going to fuck you in that old man’s bed, and I’m going to fucking breed you.

I’m going to do all the things he couldn’t do.

And I hope to God his ghost is watching his pretty bride’s cunt take his son’s cock. ”

I was sick. I needed locking up. There was something so very wrong with me, because the image those words sent into my brain made me shatter. I screamed, digging my fingers into Azriel’s shoulders, my legs squeezing his hips.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. “Fuck.” He raised himself on one hand, wrapping the other around my throat as I rode out my climax.

He pounded himself into my quivering sex, and then with a hissed breath, his eyes met mine, and he shuddered.

His gaze stayed locked on me as he filled me up, his shoulders heaving.

I trembled beneath him, lightheaded from the pressure of his hand around my neck, and from the violent bliss that had torn through me.

I shifted my hips the tiniest fraction, and could already feel him spilling out of me.

He released my neck, rising to his knees and looking down as he withdrew slowly.

I winced, feeling the sting of every inch of him.

When he was finally completely free, he smiled.

“So full, you’re dripping.” He pushed a finger inside me, and I whimpered. “And? Are you satisfied, wife? Is that how you like it?”

I couldn’t speak yet, my body not yet obeying me. He ran his soaked fingers down my leg, leaving a trail of himself behind.

“You’ve no idea what it does to me to see you filled with my seed,” he said, lowering his mouth to plant a kiss on my stomach. “All these moments I dreamed of, for so long. And you made them all possible, my little viper.”

I sucked in a breath. Yes I had. I’d lain open the way for him to claim me, without even realising it.

“Are you ever gentle?” I asked, wishing my lungs would fill with air instead of flapping uselessly inside my ribcage.

He raised his head, gazing up the length of my body. “Gentle? Would you like me to be gentle?”

I pressed a hand to my eyes, my cheeks burning. “I-I don’t know. ”

“Then we shall have to find out.” His fingers brushed over my still-hard nipple. “We have time, wife, all the time in the world to discover what you like.”

I let him fondle and explore me. I lay on the bed as my skin cooled, and let his mouth wander over my skin. I let his tongue lick away the sweat.

It wasn’t until he left, and I rushed to the bathroom to cleanse my body of his seed, praying that none had taken root, that I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

My hair was in disarray. My cheeks were flushed.

There were bright red marks on my breast and stomach, even one on my leg, where he had sucked my skin til it bruised.

I let out a sigh as I inserted the syringe, and watched his spend wash out of me into the small basin.

I knew I was in trouble. But I had no one to speak to about this.

The nuns who had administered my education had been of no use, and besides a vague lecture from Aunt Adelaide the night before my wedding, I had no idea what intercourse was supposed to be like.

Was it this? This pleasure that left me gasping and breathless, in delighted disarray, my body craving more, and more of him?

For even now, I wanted to run down the corridor after him and drag him back to me, beg him to do it all again, all night if we could.

Was that possible? And what would happen to me if we did?

I looked back at my reflection and I knew that I needed some help.

I needed to meet this Rebecca who worked in Stepney.