Page 15 of Love Her Ruin
It’s an order, and the part of me that would have hesitated a week ago is silent.
The shadows respond instantly. Mine surge from my hands, black tendrils that merge with Azhrael’s, thickening into ropes of living darkness. They snake around her wrists, yanking her arms above her head. She gasps, arching off the mattress, her tits heaving as the dark coils tighten, pinning her down.
The sight of her like that—vulnerable, exposed, completely at our mercy—sends a jolt of pure lust straight to my cock.
James adds his own feral touch, grabbing her ankles and spreading her legs wide. His shadows manifest as a smoky leg spreader bar, cold and unyielding, holding her open.
She’s splayed out like a sacrifice, her cunt already glistening, still swollen from earlier, dripping wet with black cum from the anticipation alone. The smell of her arousal fills the room, musky and sweet.
“Fuck, look at that sloppy pussy,” I murmur, stepping closer, my cock throbbing painfully in my pants. I lean in, my face inches from her heat. “You’re going to come so many times you’ll forget your own name, but only when I say. Understand?”
She nods, biting her lip, but that’s not enough. Submission isn’t passive; it’s active. It requires acknowledgment.
I grab her jaw, my fingers digging into the soft skin, forcing her to look at me. “Say it, Sera. Tell me you’re my filthy little whore tonight.”
Her eyes widen, the cold fire in them flickering with excitement, with pure need.
“I’m your filthy little whore,” she whispers, and goddamn, the submission in her voice, the raw scrape of it, makes my dick leak pre-cum.
“Good girl.” I nod to James.
It’s his turn, and I’ll gladly watch. The voyeur in me is wide awake, hungry for the show.
James grins, that boyish, dangerous smile lighting up his face as he pulls out his knife. The blade gleams in the dim light, and he traces it lightly down her thigh, not cutting yet, just teasing. She shivers, her cunt clenching visibly. A fresh black pearl of slickness beads at her entrance.
“Ye ready, Prayer? You’re gonna bleed for us.” He presses the tip against her inner thigh, just below the crease of her leg, and slices a shallow, precise line.
Blood wells immediately, bright red against her pale skin.
She hisses, bucking against the restraints, but her cunt clenches again, a fresh gush of slick black wetness dripping down her ass crack. The connection between pain and pleasure is written all over her body, in the flush on her chest, the desperate roll of her hips, the way her back bows, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Azhrael’s shadows surge forward, cold and invasive, seeping into the cut like icy fingers probing the wound. She moans, a low, ragged sound, and writhes on the bed, her hips rolling helplessly.
“Let me lick it clean for ye.” James dives in, too, his tongue lapping at the blood, sucking greedily while his fingers spread her pussy lips wide, exposing her clit.
He presses his thumb to it, and she jerks violently.
The sight of his mouth on her thigh, her blood on his lips, his fingers strumming her clit, her cunt open and dripping, makes me groan. The copper tang of blood mixes with the musk of her arousal, and I breathe it all in, letting it settle in my lungs.
I watch, my cock aching, the voyeur in me thriving on this depravity, but I don’t touch myself yet. Denial makes the final claiming even sweeter.
Her hips twitch as Azhrael blindfolds her with a shadow ribbon, a strip of darkness that wraps around her eyes. She whimpers, vulnerable now, completely at our mercy. The loss of sight heightens every other sense, and she turns her head to listen, straining to hear our movements, to track us by sound and breath and displacement of air.
James leans back, her blood smeared on his chin, and slaps her thighs with open hands, sharp smacks that turn her skin a furious red. “Ye like that, don’t ye? Your cunt’s drooling for it.”
He escalates, manifesting a thin shadow whip, a coil of darkness that cracks against her hips, leaving welts that make her yelp and soak the sheets. The sound of the whip is a sharpsnap, followed by her gasp and the creak of the bed under her desperately writhing hips. Each impact makes her juices flow.
My turn because I can’t bear it anymore. I strip, my clothes hitting the floor, my cock springing free, hard and veined, black pre-cum beading at the tip. I climb between her legs, the heat of her body radiating against my skin. I rub the head of my cock against her slick folds, teasing her entrance without pushing in, but she’s so wet I slide inside her effortlessly, the friction making us both groan.
“Beg for it, Sera. Beg me to fuck your greedy hole.”
“Please, Eddie…fuck me. Fill my pussy, please—”
I thrust in halfway, just enough to stretch her, to let her feel the thickness of me, then pull out. She groans in frustration, her hips chasing me. I do it again, edging her, building the denial until she’s thrashing against the bonds, her breath coming in ragged pants, her pleas dissolving into wordless need.
Then I drag her ass to the edge of the bed and lift her hips, ducking under the shadow-leg spreader, so that I can fuck her while making room for the others.
Azhrael’s cold shadows join, one tendril wrapping around her throat while another probes her ass, cold and slick, prepping her.
