Chapter 6
WARM. SHE WAS SO WARM.
Her eyelids were heavy, refusing to open, though the delicious heat coiling through her made her want to curl into a ball.
Isabelle sighed, tension building in her center, a rhythmic sensation that made her nerves tingle.
Something wet was between her legs, but it was difficult to care when it felt so good, so right, the pressure building quickly like water boiling in a kettle.
She rocked her hips up, meeting something firm, but when she tried to move her arms, she realized she couldn’t.
With great effort, she fluttered her eyes open, trying to push through the sleepy daze as her vision started to clear.
A man.
There was a man between her legs, with strange gray blue skin and white blonde hair, two sharp horns poking out from his head.
His pink tongue was sliding through her slickness, stroking over her interior and coiling tension in her core.
Red eyes flared as he noticed her movement, his broad nose pressed to her pelvis so he could deepen his thrusting.
Not Jean-Phillipe, at least she didn’t think so, but who knew how many forms he had?
“Who are you?” she gasped, trying to wriggle from his grasp, though his arms tightened around her thighs, holding her in place.
A blue rope whipped from behind him, spiraling around one of her legs, though after a moment she realized it was a tail. A tail with a triangular tip which caressed her inner thigh, his skin hot to the touch.
“I’m Rul,” he said, after pulling his forked tongue out and pressing his middle fingers into her entrance, petting them over her sensitive spot in just the right way to make stars dot her vision.
Isabelle moaned, her head swimming, his answer explaining exactly nothing.
The last thing she remembered was the forest. She was with the beast, Jean-Phillipe, her cunt still warming his massive cock as he’d forced her to sleep.
She’d been wearing her white dress from the temple, stained and torn as it was, but now she was nude–save for her cilice–her arms chained to the posts of the bed she lay in.
Dark, undulating lines inked the man’s right side like swirling wisps of smoke, bizarre patterns which matched the marks on her stomach.
Marked. Goddess, she’d been marked more than once, the pain of the beast’s bite still stinging, dried blood coating her shoulder and chest.
She jolted as Rul hit the right spot, bringing the tips of his tongues to her clit and circling hard.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, arching into the touch despite herself, the sensation too good and her body too needy.
Needy. So fucking needy. So needy she’d begged a beast to fuck her in the forest.
Would the moon mother ever forgive her?
“You taste as good as Bellinor said,” he replied with a grin, pausing his tongue’s ministrations, but continuing with his fingers.
“Bellinor?”
“Jean-Phillipe,” he said like he was mocking her, a chuckle reverberating from his chest.
He pulled his fingers out, coated with her sticky arousal, and pressed them into his mouth, humming with apparent pleasure at her taste.
Where in the Goddess’ name was she?
Her legs were restrained as well, attached to the lower posts of the bed with similar chains, the leather cuffs tight enough that her struggles against them were fruitless.
Rul sat up on his knees, a strange cock lying between his legs and making her mouth go dry. It was dark blue, with three glowing lines of ridges along the tops and sides, the head coming to a triangular tip. A thick, dark ooze dripped from it, and she had the intense urge to taste him.
“Such a naughty little girl,” he said as he crawled his way up the bed, caging her to the mattress with lithe limbs. “You made it too easy for him. For us.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked as he reached for his cock, sliding it through her slit and sending another jolt through her.
She trembled, her body pleading for more after the delicious sensation of his tongue and fingers inside her.
“Do you want this?” he replied, completely ignoring her question.
As the ridges slid between her folds, she was beguiled by the sensation, helpless to the powerful demand quaking through her. She wanted it, needed it, no longer feeling like herself, but a thrall to pleasure.
“Yes,” she breathed, her body begging to be fucked for the second time in Goddess knows how long.
Rul cocked his head, his mouth quirking into the slightest of smiles before he spread her wide and slid in deep, a sharp pain shooting up her back from the sudden intrusion.
He cupped her cheek and smashed their lips together, a harsh, bruising kiss that made her head swim with sinful delight.
The scent of delicate flowers filled her nose, like the first day of spring after a long winter, a deep sigh of relief.
His tongues drove into her mouth, coiling around hers and sending tugs of arousal to her center as he held himself steady inside her. She started to squirm, desperate for some friction, which only made him chuckle.
When he pulled out, she whimpered, but a moment later he was driving back in, sending a tremor through her. He dropped to her neck and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, forcing a moan past her lips.
Rul rocked his hips so perfectly, hitting the right spot over and over, dragging her closer to the edge with each powerful thrust. It was not quite the feral intensity from the forest, but close, her body at his mercy while she was chained to the bed.
His tongues caressed her shoulders, raking through dried blood.
The mark of the beast.
“What about… B-Bellinor?” she stammered, just barely able to get the words out as her head swam with lust.
Rul paused his thrusting, looking her dead in the eye with a snarky smile.
“You really care what he thinks, hmm? Oh, you are just the sweetest little thing. No wonder he had to have you.”
He brought their lips together once again, resuming his pace, any questions long gone as her body quested for release. Just a few thrusts later and she was coming on his cock, liquid arousal splashing between them. Her panting surged and she cried out, his forehead pressed to hers.
As her cunt clenched against his cock, he let out a moan of his own, spurts of sticky cum spraying her interior with heat. She could feel his length throbbing deep within her, an exquisite sensation.
Finally, blessedly, he slowed to a stop, pulling out and dragging their combined arousal with him.
Isabelle let out a heavy sigh, tingling with the delicious aftermath of release, though her head was filled with haze. She still had no idea where she was or exactly who this man was, but it was difficult to care when her body hummed with delight.
Rul crawled up the bed, kneeling beside her head and sliding his hand under her neck.
“Go ahead, clean me off,” he said with a grin, bringing the tip of his wet cock to her lips.
She opened her mouth, letting him slide his way in, using her tongue to lick seed from his length.
The ridges felt strange as they ran over her lips and the taste was overpowering, velvety and bittersweet like the dark chocolate they sold at the café.
She eagerly lapped at him, her lust renewed as if a spark had been lit, his half-hard cock stiffening in her mouth.
His eyes blazed with lust, his grin wicked as he pressed further and further in, until a reprimand rang out from across the room.
“I told you to bathe her.”
The deep voice jolted her back to awareness, Rul sheepishly removing his cock from her mouth and stepping off the bed.
She turned to see Jean-Phillipe standing in the doorway, looking almost human besides the dark horns jutting from his hair and the black wings fluttering behind his back.
He wore a finely tailored white shirt with intricate silver embroidery tracing the cuffs and collar, unbuttoned just enough to show his smooth chest. Black leather pants adorned his bottom half, perfectly fitted and tucked into simple black boots.
Goddess, he was gorgeous, her body still aflame with arousal even after the orgasm from Rul.
“I know you did, but I couldn’t resist trying her out,” Rul said with a smirk, walking around the bed and up to Jean-Phillipe.
He pulled Jean-Phillipe in for a fierce kiss, who answered in kind, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Her eyes widened in shock, the view of the two men embracing doing nothing to quell the heat building between her legs, when she should have been feeling nothing but terror.
“You’re in trouble,” Jean-Philippe growled, and Rul pulled away with a chuckle.
Jean-Phillipe turned his attention to her, walking over to the bed with his arms crossed over his chest.
“What a mess you are,” he mused, shaking his head.
“Where am I?” Isabelle asked, panic finally overpowering the arousal that had clouded her mind, realizing just how helpless she was while tied to this bed.
Jean-Phillipe laughed, cocking his head to the side.
“My home, of course. Le Voile.”
Le Voile. The Veil.
The twisted underbelly of existence that many called Hell.
“What are you?” she breathed, her voice so low she wasn’t certain he’d heard.
He just smiled, petting a hand along her side and forcing her to jerk away from him as much as was possible, restrained as she was.
“Does it matter? Your kind has many names for mine. Fiend, devil, demon, monster. Does a name make you feel better?”
Isabelle shuddered in a breath, trying to hold back her tears as Jean-Phillipe traced a finger down her thigh and slid it between her legs, observing the milky seed that coated it. He glared at Rul, tsking loudly.
“Why must you never listen to me?”
“Can you blame me?” Rul asked, gesturing to the bed. “Look at her. She was so vulnerable, so innocent just lying there in her ruined dress.”
Jean-Phillipe rolled his eyes.
“So you locked her in the restraints and fucked her?”