In Love with the Devil

35. Pretty Girls

Chapter thirty-five

Pretty Girls

Astoria

As soon as he opens the door to our room, I walk, mesmerized, by the ceiling-to-floor window overlooking the snow covered city. It’s getting foggy and the sun is setting. There’s barely any light left.

His arms wrap around me from behind. Only now do I get a grasp of how strong Asher is. I guess the lab coat was good at hiding how muscular he is. I unbutton my skirt and let it fall.Gentle brief kisses are gifted to my nape. The alcohol has me a little dizzy, braver, and more daring. His other hand lowers my panties.

“Fuck. Astoria.” I swallow deep at his growl. "You think you can come for me again?" His fingers separate my pussy lips pulling a loud gasp from me.

What am I doing? My heart rushes and my breathing follows. No one except for the occasional hug and kiss on the cheek from Mindy and Fernando, has touched me in a year, yet here I am… Asher is still dressed, but I can feel his hardened dick through his pants, pressing against my butt cheeks.

"You like that?"

My eyes roll up and I lean the back of my head against his chest, losing myself to the sensation of being touched there again. I need it so much. It pulls a whimper from me. His fingers sweep between my wet pussy lips. I fold and cross my legs, then turn to face him. He cups my cheek to kiss me and guides me in that kiss.Suddenly, I’m not so brave, daring, or demanding. I’m back to being the naive girl I was last year, back to craving being dominated in a real, scary way. “Don’t hurt me.”

“That’s not what you were asking for at my office, sweetheart.”

My eyes full of fear look into his, and I kiss him.

“You’re so pretty.” He kisses my lips, then my cheek.

My clit throbs at him growling the word ‘pretty.’ Maybe it's because Julian used to call me pretty bird. I drop to my knees, unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. He places his palm on my head and fucks my mouth while I play with his balls. As I roll them in my hand, he moans. The sound raises goosebumps on my arms. For a second a thought rushes through my head, Something's not right.

“Fuck. My pretty girl is a good cocksucker.”His words draw my eyes to his and while I continue taking his dick, he caresses my cheek. "Are you okay? We can stop gorgeous."

My hesitancy evaporates and I suck even harder, faster. His eyes close as he angles his head back, his whimpers getting louder, hitting the ceiling. "Oh fuck... That's… so fucking… good. Oh… fuck, Tory." The words are strained, as if he were trying not to come.

My back and head are against the cold window. I moan and whimper frequently and loudly, not holding back as I allow myself to fantasize that he’s forcing me, that I have no choice but to take him and please him. He hesitates, pushing it all the way to my throat, but I pull him deeper and hear and feel his gratitude in his moaning, panting and the loud groan each time he gags me. I see it when his eyes meet mine, in the way they can't help but flutter close.

Now that Asher is comfortable using me so roughly, I start to pleasure myself. My throat closes on the girth of him as I come, but he doesn’t stop. His cock blocks my breathing until I slap his hips, again and again. His groan strengthens the ferocity of my climax. I scream and sob as my body convulses. He caresses my cheek, then holds back my hair. The affection comforts me, keeps me from breaking down, from losing my mind. By the time he finishes inside my throat, there are many tear trails on my cheeks. I study his now limp cock, liking that it’s covered in my lipstick, sucking the last drop of come from the tip of it. I feel like a queen while watching his entire body and breath tremble because of me.

He places both his hands on either side of my face and pulls me up, then kisses my mouth, not caring that it’s coated with his juices. When he releases me, we lock eyes again, his hands still holding my face firmly.

“Tie me up,” I request.

“I have nothing to tie you with.”

“Use your tie, your belt.”

He takes off the tie, staring at me as if he can’t believe I want this. He's almost smiling but also studying me, waiting for me to back out. I take off my blouse and bra then my boots, turn around, and seconds later feel the tie on my wrists. “Tighter.”

It cuts into my skin, making me almost regret my request. A memory of the many times Julian restrained me like this flashes through my mind and I wince to get out of that moment and return to this hotel room, where I’m safe. I walk past him, climb on the bed so that my butt is up in the air, my legs completely folded under my chest, my cheek on the mattress, looking at him and the window behind him. “Fuck me, Asher. Please.”

He stares at me with a slightly open mouth. The shock is subtle and brief, but I catch it before he takes a photo of me with his phone. He removes his dress shirt and walks to me, slides under me, hooks onto my thighs and pulls me down so my pussy lands right on his mouth. I gasp several times at the speed and aggressiveness of his sucking and tongue lashing on my pussy.

"Oh my God. Ash-Asher please–" I curve forward, my entire body stiff from the overwhelming pleasure. I take in a breath and pant, "Fuck, f-fuck, fuck." Each cuss has less volume than the other as I feel him invade my soul and take all of me with his tongue.

It's so intense that I can’t help but try to pull away. When his thumb sweeps into my asshole, my body rocks at the pleasure I've been starving for a year. It's too much and I can't help scream, "No." I arch my neck back, angling my face toward the ceiling with my eyes closed, just feeling.

"Yes, yes, yes." I rock harder, faster, not caring if I suffocate him as I rub my pussy all over his mouth and fuck his thumb. "Asher, please. Please." My every sound and move shows my desperation. I hope Asher doesn't mind me being such a dirty whore, needing my ass to be filled.

The volume and pitch of my moans and whimpers increase as my climax nears. In my heavy hurried breath, I yell, “Fuck!” I’m right on the edge. His lips suck on my clit hard until I’m wincing, almost sobbing. “Fuck. Asher.”

He stops, readjusts on the bed and part of me is terrified of what he may do, but I stay in place. I need this. Just like Julian used to say to me when I would beg him not to rape me. Asher walks back toward the window and picks up my panties.

“This is your last chance, Astoria. You’re sure?”

“Yes, I am.” Why do I feel as if I've hammered the last nail on my coffin with those words? There's a sinking feeling but I keep telling myself I'm with Asher. I'm safe.

“Open your mouth.” Our faces are inches away from each other when I obey him, and he stuffs my panties in. He walks around doing I don’t know what while I stare out the window with my cheek on the bed, my knees under my chest, and my ass in the air. The mattress dips under him.I hear a bottle pop open, then feel the cold liquid that falls on my ass crack. It smells like roses. He scoops some of it and pushes down to the valley. His two wet fingers enter my butt. My eyes flutter close. The eagerness in my moaning is obvious. “Don’t come right away, Astoria.”

Every breath, every whimper I expel drowns in euphoria. It’s clear how grateful I am for each plunge he gifts me. “You want more?”

I nod while wanting to beg, Please don’t stop .

He adds another finger, pushing in, swirling, spreading me, pulling out, caressing every nerve ending so that my brain thinks it’s in an infinite pool of pleasure, in heaven. My insides tighten. The panic widens my eyes and fills my next moan.Fuck. I'm coming. I let out a long groan as I uncontrollably swing back and forth.

I'm shaking everywhere when he laments, “Aww… you have to learn to control yourself.” He adds another finger and I widen my legs, my moans now loud as he swirls inside me up to the base of his knuckles. I scream and move a little forward as he pushes in. “Not yet, pretty girl. I'm not done with you yet.”

My breathing is fast, panicking over how intense each touch is. My butt tightens. “Come on. You can do better than that. Can’t you?”

I scream a muffled no and shake my head.He chuckles, then gently kisses my cheek while his four fingers fill me. The contrast of the gentle kiss and his fingers fucking me shatters me.

“Make me proud, Astoria.” Now there’s no more slow swirling. He just pumps me with all four fingers. I use all my energy and brain power to expand my asshole, not letting it pucker or spasm. Focusing is almost impossible, while receiving such overwhelming pleasure. He takes all of it out but soon after, I feel his fist slowly take the rim of me around it. His wet knuckles rub against it again and again. A shuddering cry rolls out of me and he spanks my butt cheek with his other hand, breaking my concentration. The sting and filling pulls my scream. I lose all thought when he pushes deeper, until his wrist is paused at the entrance. The room fills with my sobbing and screaming.

"Shh.. It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you," he whispers, his voice at a raspy deeper pitch. The sound of his voice like this widens my eyes, the climax stacking faster as he slowly moves his fist in and out. My body convulses, jumping off the bed again and again, but no matter where I fall, he continues fucking me with his hand.

“This is what you wanted,” he says through his teeth while I scream with every wave, every slam, every spank. "Take it." I reach a level of insanity where nothing else exists except his fist pleasuring me while his other palm spanks me hard, torturing me. He's right. It's exactly what I needed. His knuckles slip roughly against my tightened walls.

"You look so pretty taking my fist, Astoria. Are you ready?"

I scream a no and shake my head but he pushes it in deeper, until his wrist bone stretches my rim, his entire hand filling me. While I wail, Asher pumps his fist in and out of me until my body sucks him in deeper. But he doesn't accept the invitation. It's a horrible tease. I need more.

"I can tell you want more but that's all you're getting."

I want to yell his name and beg him but I can't.

"Come.. just like this. Like a dirty pretty girl." It's too close to what he would say. I squeeze my ass on his hands and he thrusts faster. "So obedient."

The waves rip my body apart. When he takes it out, the long, quaking sobbing pours out of me. I feel emotionally and physically empty. The need to be loved stabs all the way to the depths of my soul. Tears trail over the bridge of my nose and cheek, then fall on the bed while my body violently trembles.

It’s a cry from my jumbled emotions, vulnerability, and frustration at missing the days Julian and I watched TV together, the days he would caress me and say nice things about me being pregnant. Why did he lie to me? No one can convince me he didn’t know it was a fake pregnancy. Why do I care if he lied? Why am I missing a man who tortured me until he killed my soul when I'm with the man I've wanted for almost two years now? This is insanity.

There’s no way to deny that I’m currently a sobbing mess. Poor Asher must be scared that he hurt me. I feel bad to break down like this in front of him, but I can’t help it. In silence, he watches me break down and slowly return to sanity, sometimes soothing me by caressing my back and making that sound Julian used to make, “Shhh.”

For a minute, I guess I thought he was Julian or was just like him. Turns out Asher is more like me than I could have ever guessed: unwanted and abused by his mother because of his father. No wonder I felt such a strong connection to him. A boy who had never been told that he is beautiful and good.

I drink up every gentle gesture like a desert does the occasional rain storm.

When I move my wrists, he lies next to me, wrapping me in his arms. “Shh… It’s okay.” The comfort his voice and words give me, makes me want to be his slave. It was rare for Julian to sooth me like that, with those words.

I try to tell him to let me go, but my mouth is stuffed. Asher kisses me on my nape, quieting down my panic, but then his teeth bite into me and I cringe, making the bite hurt more since he’s lifting my skin. “How’s that little hole doing? Can you still feel my fist in there?”

I moan and nod a yes. My clit is throbbing just from that question. He spanks me then pinches my butt cheek. His tongue licks my neck until it finds my ear and curls inside, filling me, sending a shake through my body.

“I can tell you need more. That little hole is hungry for some come.”

Part of me panics because I’m not sure I can take more since he already broke my soul, which I didn’t expect.

Right before he covers my back with his body, I hear him spitting. He pulls my legs so I lie flat on my stomach, separates my trembling legs with his and slams his cock into the deepest depths of my ass. Pure, intense pleasure lies around the entrance, but as it slides and widens me deeper, the pain drowns me. It has been too long. The panties in my mouth are not enough to muffle my screams. His hand holds my shoulder, pushing me back to collide against him. He wants to fuck what he didn’t fist.

I’m panicking, needing him not to push so hard and deep. Instead, he pulls my butt cheeks apart, gaining more ground, then returns to pulling my shoulder. It's as if he can't find the best way to break all of me. The panting from his mouth hits the lining of my ear. “The thing about pretty girls is that they always have greedy assholes, but don’t worry, I’ll fill it again and again and again. We have all night long.”

I don’t know why his words and him watching my face so intently send an unbearable ache and heat through me that numbs the pain. My eyes flutter as he rams into me, groaning, then swinging his pelvis and cock fast. I only exist for his pleasure, no matter how much it hurts me. I scream at the thought, my walls contracting. “I love a pretty girl who likes to come fast and a lot. Here, let me help you.”

I moan no and shake my head, but he laughs, reaches under me and plays with my clit. I slam my hips back and forth, fucking the length of him a few times at his first flicks. I climax right away. That’s when he raises himself, pins me down and fucks me until I’m seeing blotches in the room.

It’s all I needed, to be used, hurt, fucked way beyond my capacity, beyond oblivion.

We're entangled in each other’s arms when I wake. His body is like an oven, warming me with a dry heat. The early morning is creeping through the drawn curtains. I want to leave without waking Asher, so I turn away, wait and listen, making sure he’s still sleeping. When I slip off the bed, I can’t help admiring his face. He looks like an angel God sent to protect me, but I don’t trust God anymore–not since he sent Julian after me. My gaze slips down his perfectly sculpted torso. That’s when the tattoo on his chest catches my eye. It’s the same one as Julian’s: an anatomical heart. My eyes sweep to his belly. There’s a tattoo of a black bird and along its underbelly, in cursive, is written, ‘pretty bird.’ When my eyes sweep back up to his neck I see it. The scar from when I tried to kill him.

No! I must be hallucinating from stopping the pills or something. I shake my head slowly as I back away. This can’t be. I don’t want it to be. The realization that somehow deep inside I knew this yesterday and did what I did is nauseating. In a desperate attempt to confirm to myself beyond all doubt that what I’m seeing is real, I walk to his pants by the window and grab his wallet, searching for his driver’s license.

Asher Julian Michaelson.My heart drums fast and loudly in my ears.

When I face him again, he's staring at me and a smile spreads on his lips. I shake my head. The hand holding his license trembles. My eyes fill with tears and an icy sensation expands through the rest of my body. This is too much. He nods slowly at my denial and licks his lips.

“Astoria.”It's his voice, Julian's voice.

I bite my lip, rush to pick up my clothes and dress, making sure I don’t go near him. He sits up, consuming my panic.

“There’s no sense in running, pretty bird.” This is not the way his voice sounded last night. It chills me further, making my lips tremble.

My mind doesn't know where to go to run away from this reality.

Asher is Julian.

It sends a mind-shattering quaking through my body but I try to mask it. I don’t want him to enjoy how terrified I am. God, I just fucked my rapist willingly and enjoyed all of it. I seeked him out and begged him to do everything he used to do to me. The conflict in my mind doesn’t let me think straight. I lift the same side of the comforter and blanket several times, searching for my panties, ignoring the fact that his phone is on the bed with pictures and videos of me enjoying him fucking me with his fist and dick.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” My panties hang from his forefinger. “Why don’t you sit down?" He pats the bed area next to him. "And have a calm adult conversation with me? Let’s work this out.”

While shaking my head, I cover my mouth after a whimper escapes me.

“Pretty bird… you knew.”

I cannot wish this away any harder.He sighs in frustration as I back away towards the door. I pause when I have the handle in my hand. “The baby? What did you do? Did you–did you kill him?”

Julian doesn't hide the shock on his face at the accusation. “Pretty bird, please, let's talk.”

“What? Did you do? With my baby?" I accentuate the words.

For a second, I see tears in his eyes. "I love you. I know you don't believe me but I do."

"You pumped me full of hormones! All those IVs… you sick son of a bitch!” I cover my mouth again as a wail builds and threatens to escape. He gets off the bed too fast.

“I can’t talk to you unless you sit and calm down.” He moves forward and I open the door from behind me. He stops walking because he doesn't want me to leave. "Don't. Don't leave. Not like this."

“Don’t move!” I screech at him and thank God, for once, he listens.

His expression fills with concern. “Astoria, take deep breaths before you faint. I’m not going to hurt you—”

I chuckle. “Like you ever gave a shit. You’ve already hurt me, Julian. In the worst way. Our parents and you… you all belong in the same hell. Stop trying to drag me into it—”

His laughter stops me from speaking. “Pretty bird, you came to me, remember?” A scream rolls out of me when he walks up to me and pushes the door closed. My back is up against it because I'm on my tippy toes, hyperventilating. The expression on his face is deadly, while his eyes dig into mine. His breathing sweeps down my nose.

“Don't! Please. Don't.” I hate how helpless I sound.

His hands slowly and gently flatten on my lower back, under my blouse. The warmth automatically makes my eyes flutter.

“You begged me to bring you here, to fuck your every hole, just like I used to.” I don’t respond except for the shaking of my head. If he doesn’t shut up I’m going to vomit. “Astoria, I let you go. You think I didn’t see you crying by the crib?”he whispers.

I open my eyes and wince at the question..

“You think I wouldn’t wake up with all the creaking of the wood panels on the floor? It took you an hour just to reach the pine trees. I watched you because I was afraid you’d faint and freeze to death. I followed your footprints on the snow to ensure you made it to wherever you were going and then I turned back home when I saw you walk into the gas station. You think I didn’t keep an eye on Mindy? That I didn't know you’d end up living with them?”

It's dizzying to realize he was right behind me, all along after all. “Why? Why would you let me go?”

“If you love a bird, cage it, then let it fly. If it returns, then it knows where home is.”

I shake my head. “No. Why did you do this to me? I threw myself at you from the minute I first saw you. Why did you have to hurt me so much? It took three months for the doctors to get me to say a word. It took me months to be able to walk outside. I am grieving the loss of a child that never existed!”

I see a shocked then a hurt expression cross his eyes, but it’s too brief for me to know or care why. “Astoria, there are things you don’t remem—”

“I remember you torturing me, playing with my mind, using every word I trusted you with for your sick, disgusting games.”

“This is who I am, and you love me like this. Obviously. I was stunned yesterday when I saw you in my office, wearing that tiny skirt. That lipstick. I never thought anyone could love the real me, but you… you’re amazing." He shakes his head. "You came back home, pretty bird.”

“Fuck you!”I scream and push him away. There are two feet between us now.

He laughs. “I love this side of you, baby. I always knew it was somewhere in there. I'm so proud of you. But it’s time to face the truth. If I would have just taken you from the beginning, it would've all been a lie. You fell in love with the real me. You belong to me, in every way possible–”

“No, I don’t." I shake my head.

"Really? So your asshole is not still gooey with my come? Hungry for more? Your pussy isn't throbbing? Your heart isn't breaking at the thought of walking out that door–"

"You broke my soul, Asher! I've spent every fucking day wishing I was dead since you took me! You think this is love?" I cover my mouth as a sob rips out of me. "Why did you have to be so cruel? I could have loved you when you first broke into my home but this…. This isn't love. Not after everything you've done to me."

"Astoria—"

"You don't understand, do you? I can't love anyone, Asher. Because. I hate myself too much. That's what you taught me, to hate myself."

"No. You're confused and there are things you don't remember."

"Julian, if I have to spend the rest of my fucked up life proving that I hate you with every fiber of my being, then I will!”

With a nod and a menacing smile, he says, “Listen, baby. Don’t feel bad, okay? You figured it out. It’s why you came to me. It’s why you were searching every corner of my office; why you asked me the questions you did. You always try to find the good in people and you were just trying to confirm that the man who kidnapped you had a nice side to him. This is why you said the things you said last night. So don’t feel bad. You’re a smart, tough girl with an amazing big heart, that’s all.”

“Julian…” The whisper carries so much pain.

“It’s okay.” He pauses as my face contorts with agony. “And I wasn’t attracted to you because you acted or were a victim. I was attracted to your willingness to love and forgive. I took full advantage and destroyed it. But in the end, you won. You taught me how to love–"

"Shut up!"

"You're a phoenix. And the flames that you unleash are gorgeous–"

“Julian, please shut up,” I whisper because I can’t take the monster who has destroyed me, being nice to me, rebuilding me like no therapist or psychotic drug has done in a year.

“Astoria. Look at me.”

I do.

“Blame me. Not you. Me.” He points at his chest.

Why is it getting harder to walk away? Why is it hurting?

For too long, all we do is stare at each other with tears overflowing our eyes, but then he breaks the silence and whispers, “Go ahead, baby. It’s okay." He nods. "I know you. I know you need to run right now. But I’ll always find you, Astoria. Do you wanna know why?” He pauses, studying me. “Because in the sickest, worst, most disgusting way, I love you too. So go ahead, run wherever you want to run. I’ll never be far behind.”

“Asher Julian Michaelson, I want you to know that the next time I see you, I’ll do everything in my power to kill you.”

His eyes narrow into slits and a smile pulls at one corner of his lips. Then his eyes drop from mine down my body. His tongue sweeps in between his lips. My eyes mirror his, taking in his nakedness, his hard cock, hanging. I turn the handle, open the door, and rush out. I run to the elevator, then out of the building, knowing that he’s watching me from the window.

The city is foggy, and it’s snowing. Clouds are blocking almost all hints of sunlight.

Asher is Julian. Asher is Julian. The thought keeps repeating for all five blocks I run. The iciness I felt when I found out the truth changes into a hot pain. At first I think it’s just my lungs burning, but it’s not. Every inch I run away from him hurts. There’s a sick part of me that wants to be back in bed, being held and kissed by him.

My phone rings at an incoming text. At first, I assume it's Mindy, panicking, but then I see it's a blocked number.

Unknown: I love you.

Then the pictures of me curled and tide up on the bed start filling my screen, followed by videos of me screaming from pleasure from the fisting. I stop it from playing, walk into the cafe behind me straight into their bathroom and watch it again. The video plays long past when I climaxed last night. Sometimes the phone was on the bed, only catching my sounds, others he picked it up to record himself fucking me. I play it again, promising this will be the last time and get myself off, coming so hard, yet having to resist everything in my body and mind that demands me to run back to him. It dawns on me. This is what he wanted by sending me this. "You fucking sick asshole."

I call a taxi and tell the driver to drop me off in downtown. I don’t tell him I’m going there to buy a brand new cell phone and to dump this one.