Page 37 of The October Trials

He does it again. And again. Alternating between nipples, pulling and twisting and flicking with his teeth until I’m writhing beneath him.

It hurts so good.

“Please,” I gasp, but I don’t know what I’m asking for. Please stop. Please don’t stop. Please make it hurt more.

Before I can form another coherent protest, he flips me onto my stomach.

Rough hands yank my hips up until I’m on my knees, face pressed into the leaves, skirt hiked around my waist. I can hear him behind me, the sound of his belt buckle, the rasp of a zipper.

“Wait—” I gasp. “I—I’m a virgin.” And you’re huge.

“I’m going to enjoy being the first and last man to ruin this pussy.”

He slams into me without warning.

“Oh, fuck,” I groan.

My vision whites out. The stretch is agonizing—too much, too fast—and the metal of his piercings drags along sensitive walls in a way that borders on unbearable. I sob into the dirt, fingers clawing at roots, body trying to process the overwhelming fullness.

He pulls almost all the way out, leaving me empty and aching.

“Count them,” he orders, a rasp in his voice. “Count the piercings with me, slut. One…”

I can barely think, barely breathe. “Go to hell,” I manage on a broken moan.

He chuckles. “Only if I can take you with me, slut.”

Then he slams back in to the hilt.

I scream bloody murder, instinctively trying to scoot away from that vicious monster between his legs.

His hand cracks across my ass hard enough to sting. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He grips my hips, yanking me back onto him. “Keep this ass up and take this dick.”

This man is going to kill me.

Thrust.

“Do you believe in God?” Cage growls against my ear, each word punctuated with a brutal snap of his hips.

“Y-yes—” I cry out.

His fingers dig into my jaw, forcing my head back until I’m staring straight into the cold voids of his mask.

“Too bad,” he groans. “I’m your God now. Do you understand me, little bird?”

He slams into me harder, punishment and blessing in the same vicious stroke. “Pray to me. Scream for me. Worship this cock like it’s the only salvation you’ll ever fucking need.”

Pain. Pleasure. I’m not sure which one I’m feeling right now, but I know that it’s better than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.

Suddenly, he freezes.

“Onyx. What are you doing out here, girl?”

He’s still buried inside me when he reaches out with one hand and plucks something from the bark of the tree beside us.

Oh, holy shit. Fuck no.

A massive black spider with legs as thick as my fingers rests on his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world. I may be a spooky bitch who loves the macabre, but I cannot do spiders.