CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
35
Elara
There was no way in hell Xul had intentionally sunk his fangs into my lower lip to drink. No. Freaking. Way.
And yet... why did a peculiar thrill course through me as he drew blood? I’d known this moment was inevitable, known he wouldn’t simply bed me.
And yet, a guttural moan escaped my lips as he fed, the primal heat of it igniting a spark within me. It was all so wonderfully, disturbingly wrong.
Then, the delightful aberration was shattered by the cold, slithering sensation of serpents coiling around me. One, two, three... the count became lost in the panicked tremor of my fingers. How Xul had summoned such a horde was a question for later. A more pressing concern gnawed at me: Xul’s twisted game involved using my greatest fear – these very snakes – as some perverse foreplay.
Two serpents, cold and sinuous, coiled around my arms, then anchored themselves to the table legs. I perched precariously on the surface, struggling to maintain balance with each precarious motion.
The tabletop felt like a torture rack, and the most unsettling part wasn’t the precariousness, nor the cold, damp scales brushing my skin. No, it was the indignity of having my thumb deposited into the maw of one of these reptilian nightmares. Right. In. Its. Mouth. Can you believe the audacity, the sheer sadism of Xul? The snakes hadn’t sunk their fangs in yet, held in check by his power, but the slimy feel of their scales sent shivers down my spine.
More serpents slithered up my legs, mimicking the first pair by coiling around my ankles and anchoring themselves to the table legs.
It was as if I were being trussed with living ropes, their bodies the only things keeping me from toppling over. Snakes, not rope. Snakes on my legs, hands, and one even with my finger hostage.
Oh, the sadistic bastard. I longed for the stoic, enigmatic Xul, the one whose true emotions remained veiled behind an impassive facade. This Xul, the one who reveled in offering “punishments” veiled as “bargains” and “invitations.” Each proposition more dangerous than the last, each pushing me to the very precipice was the definition of “danger.” And here I was, teetering on the edge.
If I fall, I fall onto snakes. Gross. If I move, I get bitten by snakes. There’s only one word I can use to describe this. Trapped. I’m hopelessly trapped.
My legs are spread wide, and despite the threat of fangs and venom a heartbeat away, a different kind of heat flushed through me. A heat that had nothing to do with the danger.
Xul’s kisses, deliberately rough, drawing a metallic tang from my lips, ignited a familiar spark. His touch, a brand on my skin, sent shivers down my spine. Not from the serpents, no. This arousal, this raw need, belonged solely to him.
A searing kiss on my forehead, a whispered command that echoed in my mind like a primal echo.
Then, a finger, cool against my heat, slipped inside, a spark igniting deep within. It spread like wildfire, a blush scorching my cheeks.
“This game has many facets, Elarabeth,” he murmured, his voice a low caress against my ear. “One bleeds...” My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a counterpoint to the slow, deliberate slide of his second finger joining the first. Unexpected, the intrusion sent a spike of pleasure through me, sharp and exhilarating like a shot of fine liquor.
The burning friction of his touch was a perverse aphrodisiac. My body craved him, a yearning that deepened with each passing moment. He continued, his voice laced with a dark command, his eyes pinning mine. “One cries!” he growled, “...cry for me now!”
As if on cue, the leisurely pace of his fingers escalated.
Vampiric speed, a blur of motion that sent tremors through my entire being.
Even my breasts thrummed with the intensity, bouncing in response to his ministrations.
Moans ripped from my throat, raw and desperate, my vision blurring at the edges. It felt like a dam had burst within me, tears of ecstasy welling up and spilling over for him, for his touch.
So this is what it means to bleed for someone, especially for this sadistic godmaster.
“That’s what I’m talking about…” he mutters, his breath heavy with groans as his fingers move up and down my cunt, slick with my release. “...go on, cry for me. Tell me how much you fucking need me inside you.”
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. I fucking need Xul now. I need him—all of him—inside me.
A delicious fire licked at my vagina, a yearning I’d denied for years, a fear it wasn’t enough for us both. Xul’s skin, scorching against mine, sent shivers down my spine.
His two fingers, delicate yet firm, explored my slick heat, and I soared on a cloud of delirious pleasure. My body pulsed, intoxicated by a drug uniquely his.
“Yes, Xulin,” I gasped, my voice raw with vulnerability and desperate need. “I crave you. I can’t escape you. Please, take me. Fill me. Let my innocence bleed for you, beneath your touch...” My words spilled out, unfiltered and laced with a yearning I couldn’t contain.
His gaze never left mine, a silent promise that intensified the fire raging within.
My frantic thoughts quieted, replaced by a singular focus: Xul, the only one who mattered in this moment of exquisite pleasure.
A slow smile played on his lips at my brazen confession, sending a wave of heat scorching my cheeks.
My already throbbing core clenched tighter as the tempo of his touch intensified with each impossibly swift stroke. Oh god, this delicious agony! My face contorted in a silent plea as his pace quickened tenfold.
A strangled moan escaped my lips as the name “Xul” tumbled from my throat. The sinuous curve of his body pressed against my feet, adding a delicious pressure that both heightened and overwhelmed my senses. My legs trembled, unable to keep pace with his rapid strokes.
Just as the intensity threatened to become unbearable, he eased off, the blistering pace subsiding as quickly as it had begun.
He withdrew his fingers, slick with my release, momentarily holding them up for my inspection.
“There’s a difference when I fuck you, especially you, El…” Xul’s voice, possessive enough was a husky whisper as he grazed my split lip, the one marked by his fangs just moments ago. My mouth parted instinctively, a silent plea for more. He smeared my climax across the wound, a dark bloom against pale flesh.
Then curiosity gnawed at me. I had never tasted myself before, the idea never crossing my mind until now. As I bent to lap at the offering, Xul was a blur of motion.
His fingers, slick with my essence, dug into my jaw, forcing my mouth open.
A guttural sound escaped him, a primal rumble that vibrated through my vagina.
He loomed over me, our faces mere inches apart, the heat of his body intoxicating.
“El,” he murmured, his voice a caress, “this is mine.” His gaze flickered to the stained flesh, a possessive glint in his obsidian eyes. Then, with a masterful sweep, he claimed my lips. The kiss was a slow burn, a decadent exploration. Each touch of his tongue was a deliberate stroke, savoring the remnants of my pleasure. In a husky whisper, laced with undeniable pride, he added, “Not yours… yet.”
He pulls away, giving me a moment to catch my breath. “I wonder,” he breathed, his voice a husky rumble, “what it would be like to taste the entirety of your release, El, fresh from its source?”
A blush stained my cheeks, a traitorous warmth that betrayed the delicious fire igniting within me.
“Do you want me to taste you there, Elarabeth?” he asked, his voice a low growl. The words themselves were a delicious torment, sending shivers down my spine.
“Yes, Xul... do it...” I confess, my voice low, lips tingling from his lingering touch.
A low rumble echoed from his chest, a sound both primal and possessive. “My pleasure, Elarabeth,” he murmured, then paused, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “But first,” he continued, his hand finding the apex of my desire, rubbing it until the wet sound fills the air. A moan escapes me as I envisioned his tongue breaching my defenses. The thought alone makes my body burn with desire. “I have a few more games to play.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. I thought the writhing snakes pinning me to this table were the extent of his sadistic game, a cruel amusement. But apparently, It seemed this torture was far from over and the true game had only just begun.
Another crash of Confusion clouded my mind as Xul murmured, “Two more serpents, shall we?”
Two more? My head spun. This wasn’t torture – it was an escalation. “No, Xul, that’s quite enough,” I protested, even the word “snakes” scraping harshly against my nerves.
My stomach lurched as the cold, slithering sensation of the snakes already adorning my form intensified.
The thought of more was unbearable.
My thumbs, desperately trying to hold the creatures at bay, only added to the horrifying sensation.
“Not enough for me, my love,” he purred, his hand trailing down to explore my slick desire. “Besides, you’re already beautifully slick for me. Let’s heighten the experience, shall we?”
The playful edge to his voice did nothing to quell the rising tide of panic within me. “No, Xul, please—” My protest died in my throat as two more serpents materialized from the shadows, their sleek bodies undulating as they ascended the table, a sickeningly deliberate approach towards my chilled flesh. Their destination: the sensitive expanse of my stomach, then a horrifying crawl upwards towards my breasts.
The urge to lash out, to connect with the infuriating smirk etched on Xul’s face, was overwhelming.
A moment ago, his touch had sent shivers of pleasure cascading down my spine.
Now, it was replaced by a wave of revulsion.
The snakes reached their apex, settling like cold, unwelcome necklaces around my neck, their scales sending goosebumps erupting across my skin. Every fiber of my being screamed in protest.
Xul, however, seemed to revel in my distress. A glint of something akin to dark satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
My mind conjured a vivid memory: a younger me, perhaps sixteen, standing petrified before Bethany. A snake, its body wrapped languidly around her arm, its forked tongue flickering in my direction. My stomach lurched then, too, but Bethany, ever the sorceress, had promised forbidden knowledge – mastery of spells – in exchange for conquering my fear.
“Just a tap on the head, El,” she’d coaxed, her enthusiasm infectious.
“It’s a female,” I’d corrected automatically, more interested in deflecting than engaging. My gaze drifted back to the present, the memory fading.
“And if I touch its head, you promise to teach me some spells?” I bargained, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Promise?” Bethany scoffed. “You know I wouldn’t break a promise to you, El.” Unlike me, she was a creature of her word.
I swallowed hard, the knot of fear tightening in my throat. “Fine,” I conceded, my voice cracking.
Bethany’s eyes lit up with triumph as I inched forward, my hand trembling as it neared the snake’s head. It felt alien, unnatural, as if I were attempting to pat a ferocious beast rather than a simple reptile. Bethany, with her unwavering love for all creatures, wouldn’t have understood.
Bethany, ever the animal lover, treated every creature, no matter how seemingly dangerous, with kindness.
Just as I steeled myself to make contact, a flicker of something unnatural caught my eye.
The snake’s eyes, normally an emerald, seemed to shift, a flicker of violet replacing their natural hue. An unsettling feeling, a prickle of unease, snaked down my spine.
It felt wrong, a sense of dark magic at play.
Before I could fully register the shift, the snake lunged, its strike swift and unexpected.
I jerked back just in time, but not fast enough.
A gout of venom erupted from its fangs, striking my face in a burning spray.
The world dissolved into a horrifying kaleidoscope of pain.
My face felt like it was on fire, and a primal scream ripped from my throat.
My vision blurred, then faded completely.
The only sound that penetrated the suffocating darkness was the frantic call of my name, Bethany’s voice laced with growing panic.
“Elarabeth! Elarabeth! El, please wake up!”
The memory dissolved, leaving me gasping, yanked back to the present with the faint echo of Bethany’s voice a fading whisper in my mind. “Wake up… please wake up…”
The tendrils of my nightmare coiled back into the recesses of my mind, only to be replaced by a stark, unwelcome reality.
Two serpents, their sinuous forms a chilling reminder, coiled around my neck, their heads briefly touching in a macabre parody of a lover’s embrace.
Xul, a predator cloaked in amusement, held both reptilian tails in one hand, the other restraining the creatures that bound my limbs. It was a scene ripped straight from a fever dream, a symphony of insanity played out on my trembling flesh.
This was madness, exquisite and all-encompassing.
A whimper escaped my throat, a strangled protest against the primal terror that gnawed at the edges of my composure.
My past, a constant specter, fueled the fear that coiled in my gut.
Xul, his eyes smoldering with a dark hunger, tightened the serpents’ grip.
Their pressure mimicked the chilling sensation of a noose, stealing the very air from my lungs.
Relief, a fleeting reprieve, arrived when he loosened his hold, the gasp that tore from my lips a testament to the exquisite agony.
I knew resistance was futile. I had invited him in, a foolish act that now left me a captive in this bizarre ballet of pleasure and pain.
There was nothing to do but weather the storm, to push past the nightmares slithering beneath my skin and pray that this torment masquerading as ecstasy would end soon.
“This is part of the torture you picked, El!” he said, tightening the snakes around my neck. The air in my lungs nearly left me, and when he loosened the grip, I gasped for breath. It was like having a rope tightened around my neck, and the only salvation was its removal. But in my case, the snakes replaced the rope, and my salvation was Xul.
“This, Elara,” he purred, his voice a silken threat, “is torture number one.” His grip on a single snake intensified, the pressure tightening like a vice. The air became a precious commodity, salvation a distant mirage. The serpents were my new executioners, and Xul, the one who held the key to my release.
“That,” he finished, a cruel twist of his lips, “is how it feels.” His other hand slammed onto my jaw, the force tenfold more brutal than the serpents’ coils. Even swallowing became an impossible feat. With a sickening pressure that choked back a whimper, he demanded, “How does it feel now, Elara?”
A tremor ran through me. “It feels...” I gasped, struggling to suck in air. “...utterly insane!”
A dark smirk twisted Xul’s lips, revealing the flash of perfect teeth in the red light. “The real insanity,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, “would be letting these serpents writhe into your fucking vagina instead of me.”
My mind snapped to attention. Xul wasn’t one for idle threats. If he said snakes, snakes it would be. And the thought of their cold scales slithering against my skin, their forked tongues flicking near sensitive flesh...well, let’s just say the prospect wasn’t arousing.
“No,” I choked out, the word laced with a tremor of fear and something else entirely. “You. I need you, not...” I trailed off, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air.
He played with the edge of the smirk again. “Ah, Elara,” he breathed, the sound a caress against my earlobe. “Focus solely on me. Let the serpents melt away into the background.”
Easier said than done. Loathing for the creatures slithered through me like a second skin.
Ignoring them, particularly with their bodies coiled possessively around mine, was an impossible feat.
“And remember, darling,” Xul continued, his voice laced with a cruel amusement, “any undue movement tightens their grip.” My skin prickled as his gaze flickered to my face, then returned, lingering on my unease. A vice tightened around my jaw, his hot breath tickling my cheek. “You chose this, didn’t you? Yearned for the exquisite agony of being choked while I fucked you?”
I could only manage a shaky nod. “Then you’ll endure it,” he rasped, his voice a delicious torment against my raw nerves. “This,” he breathed, the word raw and possessive, “is your torture, darling.”
Oh, the irony. His face, so sinfully handsome it demanded a slap, was mere inches from mine.
Those same lips, the ones that had bitten mine with such possessive fervor, now hung tantalizingly close. And that throat, the one that had stolen my breath in the throes of passion, I want to stab it with my nails. But...well, right now, with my body bound, a prisoner to the slithering creatures, such indulgence seemed like a cruel fantasy.
There was Xul, with his dangerous promises and even more dangerous allure.
There were the snakes, their touch a chilling reminder of my vulnerability.
There were my own traitorous thoughts, a simmering rebellion against the situation.
And then there was me, caught in the exquisite torture of it all.
A tremor ran through me as Xul’s grip tightened on my face, the lingering warmth a stark contrast to the sudden chill I felt.
He released me abruptly, dropping to one knee on the unforgiving ground – a knee brushed with danger, I was sure, given the potential for unseen serpents lurking in the undergrowth.
Yet, the posture held an air of reverence, a silent genuflection for the forbidden fruit offered before him – my womanhood laid bare before him.
His hand, rough and demanding, splayed my thighs further, a gesture seemingly unnecessary, for I was already open to him. But perhaps it was a claim of dominance, a visual confirmation aligning with the raw desire throbbing within him.
I tried not to flinch. If I moved too much, these reptiles would tighten their hold, making me choke while he pleasured me.
Xul dipped his head, his breath a hot caress against my vagina. He inhaled deeply, the intensity of his focus sending a chilling jolt pulsating through my vagina. Fuck.
“Here it is,” he murmured, a reverent whisper. “All this time, waiting for me.” His lips grazed the sensitive flesh, sending a tremor through my body. He paused, savoring the way I responded to his touch, a tiny whimper escaping my lips. “All those years,” he continued, his voice husky, “never knowing what lay hidden beneath.” A slow lick, a rasp of his tongue against the sensitive bud. “A taste,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire, “intoxicating enough to drive a man mad.”
Then, with a possessive groan, his mouth engulfed me, a devouring kiss that sent a wave of heat crashing over me.
Each pulsating suck elicited a gasp, a moan that tore from my throat.
He wasn’t merely tasting; he was consuming, leaving no morsel untouched.
My face flushed crimson, a delicious blend of shame and exhilaration.
“Don’t just whimper, Elara,” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “Cry out for me. Let it all loose.” His tongue darted inside, a skilled explorer navigating the depths of my desire.
I moaned, a strangled sound that morphed into a choked cry.
A gasp escaped my lips as Xul tightened the serpent’s grip around my neck, a calculated pressure that threatened to steal my breath.
The world spun, a dizzying vortex of pleasure and pain, culminating in a release so intense it felt like an explosion.
He devoured it all, a greedy king claiming his rightful tribute.
He wasn’t finished.
A single finger probed the slick depths, a counterpoint to the relentless assault on my vagina.
My head swam, a dizzying cocktail of desire and something dangerously close to pain.
His lips returned, a fleeting kiss before he withdrew them, replacing the retreating finger with another.
“Cry for it, Elara,” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “Cry for the pain, for the pleasure, for the undeniable power I hold over you.”
And so I did, a torrent of uncontrollable moans escaped my lips, a symphony of surrender to the ruthless pleasure he inflicted upon me as a king. My fucking king.