31. Devil
Devil
Silas
I watch her eyes fill with lust as she scans my body. “What happens if I do?”
With a quick glance at the shelf behind us, I look for the thin coil of rope I had placed there weeks ago. It sits, waiting. It’s an impulsive thought, I've never tied a woman up before. Yet the tension between us demands release, and I know I can't bear the intimacy of her touch. Not yet.
To numb the confusion of the evening and quell the chaos in my head, I had planned to drown myself in the oblivion only a bottle of gin could offer.
But then she appeared in the doorway, her figure clad in nothing but a thin white nightgown.
The delicate fabric clung to her, hinting at curves I’d tried to push from my mind, while the ethereal sway of fabric reminded me she was more than flesh.
She was temptation itself, a living ghost of everything I wanted but shouldn’t have.
The war inside me—grief, guilt, anger—flickered and faded like a candle snuffed in the wind, leaving only a singular, consuming need in its wake.
All that remained was her, standing there like a challenge, and the growing heat of my own desire, impossible to ignore.
Stepping back further, I close the door and the lock clicks shut, loud and final, as I twist it into place. Then I point to the shelf. “See that rope?” She follows my finger to the back wall and nods.
“Go get it.”
The command ripples through the air, and I see the conflict in her eyes.
Nervous energy dances in the flutter of her lashes, but she obeys, moving hesitantly across the room.
Her slender fingers curl around the rope.
When she turns back, her questioning gaze pierces me.
I spin one of the side chairs toward her, then drop into it, my eyes never leaving hers.
Taking the zipper of my jeans, I slide it down, pushing down the denim along with my briefs.
She breaks our stare; her eyes lowering, watching as my cock springs free, red and angry.
I grip it, trying to find a bit of relief.
“You want to know what happens?” I stroke my dick as I speak, her focus never straying as she lightly nods. “Maybe the devil could take you to heaven. I want you to sin with me, Helena. Now, put the rope on the floor and get on your knees.”
With a heavy blink, her eyes find mine again, growing wide at my command.
I can see her mind working, deciding to follow it or not.
After a heady moment, she drops the coil and lowers to her knees.
The world moves in slow motion. Her nightgown can’t hide her body, can’t hide the bouncing of her tits as she settles on the floor.
Kneeling across the room, I watch her eyes flutter, waiting for her next command.
“Put the rope in your mouth and crawl to your devil, Helena.”
Her hands press against the wooden planks as she leans forward, mouth open.
Gripping the coil with her teeth, she crawls to me.
The sight of her obedience and the slow movement of her crossing the room is nearly enough to undo me.
As she nears my legs, I bend forward, placing my open palm in front of her.
“Drop it.”
A hint of anger crosses her gaze as she spits the coil into my waiting hand. I rise from the chair and drop to my knees behind her kneeling body. Undoing the coil, I pull her hands behind her back, crossing her wrists. She glances over her shoulder at me.
“You should know by now, little dove”—I ease closer, placing my lips on the top of her shoulder—“that there isn’t much tenderness left in me. But I promise there’s a beast inside of me that only wants your pleasure.”
I finish wrapping her wrists; the thin cable of jute will be uncomfortable, but it will keep her from fighting the restraint, and keep my skin safe from her touch.
Pushing off the floor, I return to the chair.
As I sit, I scoot closer, so her chest is flush with the seat.
With one hand on my cock and the other on her jaw, I slip my grip to her chin, placing my thumb on her bottom lip. As I press against it, she opens.
“So ready for my cock, aren’t you, dove?”
Her eyes drift shut as she nods.
These wordless nods aren’t enough for me. “Speak.”
Her voice strains. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Atta girl,” I praise, while slipping my hand into her soft hair. I take a solid grip of the strands, pressing my dick toward her mouth. As I force her head down, she willingly parts her lips in invitation. A bead of pre cum glistens on my tip before I guide her mouth to take me in.
“Fuck,” I hiss. It’s been so long since anything other than my own hand has touched me, and the feeling of her warm, wet mouth has me so hard it’s almost painful.
Keeping a grip on her hair, I move her mouth over my length.
Slow at first, relishing the sensation of her lips against my sensitive skin.
The erasure of years without the touch of a woman…the relief is overwhelming. I need more. I apply pressure, her head moving down further, her nose hitting my stomach. She fights my hold, but I remain steady. I keep her there, watching as she begins to gag. The sight feeds the devil inside me.
“Choke on it Helena,” I say through gritted teeth. “Show me how hungry you are for it.”
Saliva runs from her mouth, pooling at the base of my dick. Once a tear falls from her right eye, I ease my grip, allowing her to catch her breath. She gasps, chest heaving.
“You’re doing so well, dove.” Her tongue darts over her lip as her glassy eyes meet mine .
She opens her mouth again, her tongue out, waiting for me.
I guide her back down, but this time I release her hair and allow her to move on her own.
She uses the freedom with purpose. As she glides up and down my length, she twists her tongue around me.
She rises, and my dick falls to my stomach as she flattens her tongue along the underside, licking all the way up, then pauses, staring at me.
She parts her lips again, a wordless request. I can’t resist; I give her what she wants, watching as she slides those lips over me again.
She moves quicker this time, a pace that causes my hips to lift.
“Holy shit. That fucking mouth, Helena.” My head tilts back in the chair, my eyes closing, surrendering to the rush of arousal.
I reach out to find her head, holding it with both hands, and thrust into her mouth.
Her hot breaths fan over my stomach. It only takes three pumps until I’m coming.
I release her head, my hands slamming down onto the arms of the chair.
She sucks hard, like she’s siphoning the soul right out of me.
“God damn, Helena. Fuck!”
She continues until I have to pull her off, too sensitive to take it any longer.