Chapter 22 #2
Seeing my Little Spade take what I gave her sparked a possessive sense of pride deep in my chest. Fate had played its hand wisely in bringing her to me. Only Eve could match my needs while I determined hers.
Feeling the pulsing of my runes grow more demanding, my pace faltered as I neared my limits.
Despite her energy’s current state of depletion, her breaths quickened with heightened pleasure. Her pussy clamped down on my dick like it was the only thing keeping her grounded in her dreams.
As ecstasy began to crest, I felt the draw on me. Her body sapping power, soaking in parts of me that I couldn’t clutch onto with my hands.
The rise in intensity of the sensation stole my labored breaths away into strangled gasps.
Refusing to succumb to another episode of letting my world go blank, I clenched my teeth together as I continued the struggle to keep my pace even. Losing control again meant losing more than just my awareness.
Propped up on my forearms over her body, my whole body shook while fighting a battle of pleasure and the threat of metaphysical surrender.
My hands gripped the sheets, knowing damn well there was a high likelihood I’d tear them to shreds.
“Fucking hell. Eve, you’re fucking killing me,” I grunted through clenched teeth. I wasn't totally sure if I meant it literally or figuratively. It felt like my abilities were being ripped straight from the very essence of my being. Her body consumed what it needed.
Teetering on the edge of my release, I became suspended between two damning decisions. I could unleash my control and risk losing my awareness and chance for understanding her body’s evolved state. It was an extremely tempting option that everything in my head demanded I choose.
But giving in meant weakness. Knights of Hell weren’t weak. I wasn’t weak.
The alternative meant enduring, finding a way to break past the point of no return and survive on the other side. It meant gambling and hoping to live to tell the tale.
Ace Reynard never lost a gamble when the payout outweighed the risk, even when the odds were shit. Odds meant nothing when I refused to acknowledge their existence.
That settled it—a roll of the proverbial dice then.
Maintaining the rhythm, the barbs of pain intertwined with the pleasure at the base of my spine. It felt like a ticking time bomb. Either the explosion would be catastrophic or euphoric.
In a split-second decision, I focused on using all my focus and energy on staying a steady course.
Restraint frayed, unraveling rapidly.
Eve’s steady chorus of sleep-addled moans was a symphony to my ruin.
The masked veil that kept my appearance polished faded away. Left behind was the demon who had faced down threats and slaughtered them without hesitation.
My skin darkened into a shade darker than the glow of my runes.
Instead of elegant, dually curved horns common amongst generic demonkind, mine were unique to my bloodline. Sprouting from my skull, two slender rows of multiple horns ran along the top of my head, perhaps best described as a demonized mohawk of sorts.
Each of the horns were the same color as the black of night. And if the stars shone on them from just the right angle, they bore hints of violet that were there and gone in the blink of an eye.
The first set of two rested side by side up front. They led into the next two centered up top, and those overlapped the final pair at the back of my skull. Located along the base of my skull where it met the top of my cervical spine, a seventh single horn completed the lot.
Maintaining the ongoing facade didn’t consume much energy. It took about as much concentration as remembering to breathe. But in such a natural state, the durability and stamina of my body increased tenfold. Enhanced musculature, sharper angles, and a body designed to be armor against threats.
Out of everything, most notable was the state of my cock. Feeling it thicken and change shape inside of Eve’s cunt became a sensation that rivaled any drug, making chemical highs feel like cheap substitutes.
My balls hung heavier and more swollen while pressed against her ass. The blunt head rammed up against her cervix, throbbing as it wept aggressive amounts of precum. Taking up more space inside her now, the sharp escalation of pleasure overrode the pain of her body trying to feed off my abilities.
It became an addictive mix of both worlds. A high that became worth chasing until my head felt dizzy.
Before I knew it, control vanished. All that remained was the single-minded focus on filling her up until she overflowed with me. Until the sheets were soaked in sweat and cum.
Pressing her deeper into the mattress, her dreamlike state remained, though she clung tightly to me. Her hands drew me deeper, holding me to her while her sounds echoed in my ear.
The final thrusts were chaotic, demanding her body take what it wanted from me metaphysically while I gave it what I needed to flood her.
Release struck. The sensation devastated my entire nervous system with full-body jerks with jet after jet of cum filling my Little Spade.
Afterwards, all the tension fled my body. I collapsed on top of her, distantly aware enough to support myself sufficiently to keep her pinned but not suffocate her.
The sound of my panted breaths filled the room, my pulse jumped in my throat, and the world around me felt thick and heavy. I stayed like that for as long as it took to feel the ecstasy turn from blinding into blissful.
Whether it was minutes or hours, when I raised my head to look at Eve’s face, I saw the immediate change in her. The sickly pale complexion from earlier had shifted into a healthy glow, with pink tinting her cheeks.
One couldn’t miss the sleepy smile tugging at her mouth, subtle but undeniable. She nuzzled against me, a soft moan of satisfaction as she did.
Over the course of the next hour, I lay there with her, fragments of my facade reinstating themselves like puzzle pieces locking in place. The energy radiated from my Little Spade and grew stronger every minute.
Satisfied that she was on the mend, I eventually forced myself out of bed.
I nearly bit the fucking dust when my feet hit the floor, catching my footing after several stumbles forward.
Blamed dehydration.
Knew damn well it wasn’t.
While Eve curled up in the blankets I placed over her, I cleaned myself up.
Afterward, I pulled a small box from the pocket of my jacket that hung from the hook on the back of her bedroom door and placed it on the nightstand.
It was simple in its design; bronze metal shaped into a perfect cube.
Looped through the metal bow on top was a small black tag.
Written in silver ink was the number seventeen.
Leaning over, I pressed my lips to her forehead. Not quite a kiss, more of a caress as I spoke against the softness of her skin.
“For next time, Little Spade,” I promised.
Backing up from the edge of the bed, I turned toward the door to take my leave.
An unfamiliar voice inside my head demanded I reverse course and crawl back into bed.
I looked at my Little Spade as she slept in a sea of bedding.
I looked at the door that promised distance.
Made my choice.