The deed was done. All the people she had killed had their lives used for a greater purpose. Lucio would have a long life, influence and power, and so was she, as his right-hand and executor.
She was still bathed in their victims’ blood after the ritual, thinking of what her future would be like, her knees still on the floor even after Lucio left with Valdemar, when she noticed that her patron would not take his eyes off her, neither returned to his realm.
Mia would not dare to look him in the eyes, but, still, she felt his claws on her chin, lifting it up to him.
— What a curious little thing you are. You have no fear. You show no remorse, nor joy at what you’ve done. Is there anything you are capable of feeling, child?
How was she supposed to answer that? Would she be lying if she told him no? She wasn’t sure if she felt anything. She knew what she was supposed to feel, but felt nothing.
— You’re far more quiet than your brother, which is something I truly enjoy. And obedient — he smiled. — Obedient, indeed. You know your place. Perhaps I should show you another place to belong. Tell me, child, would you like to live deliciously?
Mia blinked a few times, confused.
— I don’t understand, my lord.
— Look at me.
And so she did, facing his white, covered in fur, face, and all his horns and his dark eyes.
— Would you like to live deliciously?
Would she? Wasn’t she already, with all the money they got from their killings? But she knew better. That tricky question was a trap. She would not fall for it.
— No, my lord, thank you.
— No? — he questioned in disbelief.
— A shame, really — he set her chin free. — But no matter. You will change your mind eventually. Now, let me ask something else: would you like to live forever? Your brother seemed terrified with the idea. Nonsense, really. I can provide you the immortality you seek, for you to find a way to fix whatever is the thing you wish to… — he surprised her. — And I can keep you forever young. What do you say, sweet Mia?
There, another trap. This time, though, she was interested.
— What do you want as payment, my lord? — she asked, unsure. — How many more hearts?
— No hearts. Jusy your body — he grinned.
— My… body? — she frowned.
— I need your body for this to be done. Give it to me and I shall grant you what you wish. What do you say?
What kind of trap was that? Hard to tell. Why was he offering such things she did not know, but she knew her answer.
— I accept your offer, my lord. But how…?
The Devil lifted a hand and the candle lights were blown out. She felt his claws caressing her face, which send shivers down her spine.
She knew, then, what he wanted.
— Will you willingly surrender yourself to me, Mia Morgasdóttir?
She swallowed hard as an emotion seemed to try to break her: fear. Too late, then. Somehow, she also felt herself strangely… wet.
— I will, my lord — she whispered.
Then, his tongue licked the sticky blood from her face, running down her neck. He laid her down on the cold stone floor and continued to lick her entire body, his claws firmly holding her breasts.
The more he touched her, the wetter she got. Maybe that was fear acting? Or the thrill of doing something immoral? She did not know. Her body was doing its best to prepare her, sure, but that was not what she had in mind for her first time.
It was a price too cheap to pay for immortality and youth, though. It was stupid to refuse and even more so to accept.
Or at least she thought so until she felt the thing, larger by the second, over her tights.
How, just how would that thing fit?
She couldn’t put her thoughts together when his tongue reached her cunt. Immoral? Letting the Devil himself, her patron, lick her like that? Oh, yeah, it was.
And far more than that was his monstruous, scaringly large cock, thrusting her lips. She closed her eyes, surrending herself completely when he held her tights upon his shoulders, his wetness meeting hers.
And let out a loud scream, opening her eyes the moment the Devil pushed himself inside her.
There was nothing but a intense wave of pain in her body. He wasn’t moving, though his cock was twitching. He let her adjust to him, but it was just…
She looked for his eyes in the dark, but found nothing.
— Give yourself to me. You are still reluctant. Be mine, be my plaything. You will have the world on their knees for you, as long as you are mine.
Mia tried to relax once again, just enough for him to continue thrusting further. She had nothing to hold on to. There was no escaping.
The Devil put his claws upon her hips and the pain slowly started to fade, only for something else far scarier to take its place: desire.
She felt herself so hot it was driving her mad. Worse than that: she pushed herself against his cock, needy, confused.
And the gesture made the Devil laugh. He took her in his lap and Mia started to move as fast as she could, holding on to him, her fingers on his fur, her wetness and desire increasing, aching, making her forget why she was there.
The Devil put her back to the floor while she cried, desperate, begging for him not to stop. He held her ass up and thrusted himself onto her once again while she gasped and moaned and begged.
Mia lost track of time inside that room.
How many hours had passed? Or was it days? She did not know. She could not think straight, not when he denied her orgasms and held her hair like that.
All she remembered later, when Valdemar and Vlastomil came looking for her, as Lucio was, was that she was still covered in the ritual’s blood, sweat, tears, and cum.
And her patron’s face now was a distant memory.
Merci pour la lecture!
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