Page 55 of Where the Dark Knelt (Worshipped by Darkness #1)

My voice came out hoarse and trembling. “Well… it’s beautiful… perfect… it even feels like the real thing.”

“Mm, it is beautiful, isn’t it?” he purred, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. “Perfect shape, heavy, thick, veined… just like me.”

He stepped closer until his erection pressed right in front of my face, straining against his pants, and my breath caught at the sight of it. Without breaking eye contact, he poured lube along the dildo, rubbing it slowly, making lazy strokes up and down to spread it evenly.

“Now… turn your back to me, babe,” he ordered in a low, rumbling voice. “And lift up your skirt.”

I obeyed with trembling hands, my heart hammering in my chest. My clit began to throb mercilessly at the thought, each pulse playing a frantic, staccato melody against my fantasies. Images of what he might do flickered through my mind, hot and dizzying, until I could barely breathe.

I lifted my skirt, exposing my bare ass to him, feeling my slickness drip down my thighs.

I could feel everything — every hot, humiliating throb that made my legs weak.

And I liked it. God, I liked it so much I barely realized when his fingers slid between my folds, pinching my clit just enough to make my knees buckle, even as he began to work the dildo inside me — his shape, his size, his promise filling me inch by slow inch.

With every push, he claimed me all over again.

My mouth fell open with a broken gasp. I almost tried to squeeze my legs shut to trap him deeper, to grind myself closer to the edge, but before I could, he thrust the toy all the way in.

I heard his ragged sigh behind me, the sound alone made my inner walls flutter helplessly around the silicone copy of him.

Then his palm cracked against my ass with a sharp, sweet slap that sent a shockwave right to my clit.

He hissed through his teeth, his low mmm curling through me like smoke.

And then just as my vision blurred with desperate need he pulled my skirt back down, smoothing the fabric over my shaking thighs like he hadn’t just ruined me in my own room.

He bent close, his lips grazing my ear. “Don’t take it out for the rest of the day, little saint. You’ll have a very… exciting day. And if you manage, you’ll get your surprise tonight.”

I let out a desperate, trembling sound that was meant to be a protest but came out as a moan instead. “It’s torture, Desmond…” I breathed, my whole body aching to finish, to do anything but stand here full of him and pretend I was still whole.

His low laugh was pure sin. “My favorite kind of torture.” His fangs flashed as he gave me that wicked grin and then, like the nightmare he was, he stepped away, turned to the open window, and vanished into the bright air with one swift movement.

All I could do was gasp out his name — “Desmond!” — half in anger, half in a pleading prayer.

But he was gone, and all that was left was this merciless fullness inside me, pressing deliciously on my sweet spot with every tiny shift of my hips.

I could feel my slickness trickling down my thighs, warm and shameful, hidden only by the length of my dress.

I pressed my lips together, trying to swallow my heavy breathing. I licked my lips, tasting salt and the ghost of his name on my tongue, then forced myself to gather the cakes he’d brought, the innocent little offering for the sisters, and made my way downstairs.

I could already see it in my mind: the sisters’ happy faces when they saw the treat.

But the secret inside me, the real surprise, pulsed harder with every step, every heartbeat, every clench of my trembling walls.

He was a demon, a true succubus, and I was his chosen game.

He was seducing me body and soul, and worse, he was winning.

But I swore to myself right then, with shaking knees and a burning ache between my thighs, I wouldn’t give in. Not yet.

Downstairs, the sisters had already laid out the table for lunch, their laughter and chatter a warm wave that washed over me. Astra was the first to reach me, her gentle hands cupping my flushed cheeks.

“God, your face is burning up, are you alright? Are you sick, sweetheart?”

“No, no,” I stammered, forcing a bright smile even as the toy inside me throbbed with every word. “Just the heat… and I wanted to surprise you. Look!”

I lifted the box of cakes onto the table, flipping the lid open with a flourish. The reaction was immediate, gasps, squeals, laughter as they gathered around, eyes wide and hungry.

“Cakes! Oh, look at these!” Dariana squealed, nearly dancing in place as she took one, her eyes closing in delight.

“We haven’t had these in forever!” Marcella said, clutching her hands in gratitude.

Their joy poured into the room like sunlight, warming every cold corner of my soul. For a moment I almost forgot about the heat pulsing deep inside me. I almost believed I could still be good. Almost.

But then I shifted my hips, and the toy shifted with me and the pulse came roaring back, sweet, forbidden, and impossible to ignore.

Everyone settled into their seats, chatting lightly as they began to eat. I sat down too, trying to act normal, but the moment my weight shifted on the chair, I felt it, the dildo inside me pressed against something deep, and suddenly it started to vibrate.

A strangled moan tore from my lips before I could stop it. Heads turned instantly, frowns and concerned gazes meeting mine.

“Are you alright, dear?” one sister asked, brows knitted in worry.

“It’s nothing,” I gasped, forcing a shaky laugh. “I just… sat down wrong.”

My cheeks burned with shame as I shifted in my chair again, trying to adjust, but the movement only pressed the toy harder against my sweet spot. The sisters turned back to their food, blissfully unaware of my trembling legs under the table.

They began passing out plates piled high with golden fried chicken and roasted potatoes glistening in oil, alongside fresh summer salad, juicy tomatoes and crisp cucumbers sprinkled with herbs.

I bowed my head with them in prayer, but the only prayer on my lips was a desperate plea that none of them would hear the quiet, sinful buzzing humming inside me.

I clenched around it helplessly, feeling each pulse build higher and tighter in my core. My thighs shook under the table, muscles clenching with the force of keeping still. God, I couldn’t take it much longer. I needed them to eat faster, to leave me alone before I fell apart in front of everyone.

But the vibration only grew stronger, teasing me with ruthless precision. My breath came in ragged little gasps as I forced myself to chew mechanically, feeling every hum ripple through me until I was trembling with the effort to stay quiet.

Finally, dessert was served. The sisters’ happy moans filled the dining hall as they tasted the cream pies.

And I had one demonic creampie already in the morning…

Their delight gave me the cover I needed.

I squeezed my thighs together, grinding down just slightly, and the orgasm ripped through me in a white-hot wave.

I bit into the cake at the same moment, moaning softly around the sweet bite, chewing desperately to muffle the needy sounds threatening to spill out. The taste was divine, creamy and rich on my tongue but nothing compared to the sinful sweetness exploding inside me.

The vibration stopped the instant I came. My body slumped with relief and exhaustion, my thighs still quivering as I tried to catch my breath. I felt it then, a burn at the back of my neck, the heavy heat of being watched.

I turned my head slightly, heart hammering, and there he was. Outside the window, leaning lazily against the frame, stood Desmond. His perfect lips curved into a smug, wicked smile. When our eyes met, he winked once, slow and possessive, before vanishing again into the bright daylight.

I licked my lips, tasting sugar and my own shame, forcing myself to finish the cake as if nothing had happened.

But inside, I was trembling for him again.

I didn’t want to take the dildo out. God, I couldn’t — I wanted to stay full of him all day, because tonight…

tonight I knew I’d feel the real thing again…

And as I cleaned my plate and helped the sisters with theirs, there was only one thought circling my mind like a dark, delicious prayer:

How good it felt to have his cock, even just the shape of it, inside me all day. And tonight… tonight he wouldn’t just come to me in dreams or he would come to me in my bed in person and I would give myself to him completely.

He came to my room that night. I’d been waiting for him ever since dinner, pacing in restless anticipation, the toy inside me a constant, merciless reminder of what was coming.

When he finally appeared, smoke curling into the corners of the room, he materialized right behind me. I barely had time to gasp before he pressed against my back, his cock hard and hot, sliding between my ass cheeks in a single, desperate thrust.

A ragged groan tore from my lips, my body instinctively arching against him. I couldn’t wait anymore, God, I was already trembling for him.

His clawed hand wrapped around mine, lifting my skirt higher.

I felt his fingers brush the base of the dildo still buried inside me, and then he pulled it out in one swift motion.

The emptiness he left behind made me grunt in protest, my hips jerking back in search of that fullness.

But before I could beg him, his lips crashed into mine, swallowing every broken sound in a bruising, possessive kiss.

His index finger found my clit with an urgent precision, circling and flicking it in quick, punishing strokes. I didn’t need much. I was already dripping for him, my slickness coating his fingers as he teased me.