Aero
me back.
Not one fucking person.
Not my prick of a boss, Alastor Abbott. Not my piece of shit father, Callum. Not my dim-witted half-brother, Saint. They want her dead. They want to crumble her sweet, innocent soul into the ground, whereas I want to break it, reviving her pieces in my darkness.
Beautiful Briony is mine to take, and watching her bloom before me has me losing all the control I ever thought I owned.
She’s spread open before me on her knees, moaning out something useless into the blankets, probably still reveling in the aftermath of her orgasm as I undress myself entirely, leaving nothing but the mask.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a perfect pussy in all my life. It screams innocence and purity, and the urge to destroy it is at an all-time high, especially after she just came all over my face, making a complete mess of me the way I’d hoped. I’m bound by her. My balls are tight and heavy as fuck; my cock, already leaking pre-cum, painfully aching and seeking relief as it hangs sturdily between us.
I know she’s clean. She’s so pure it hurts. It’s been years since I properly fucked, so using protection is just nothing I’m interested in. If we’re going to fuck, I’m going to feel it all. Fuck the rest.
I grip the base of my cock, rolling the pierced head along her warm, swollen lips. She jerks in response, pulling her leg, which is still tied to the bed, so I smack the side of her ass in a subtle warning, then hold her hip in place.
“You’re gonna need to breathe through this.”
I push the head of my cock in, forcing it into her tight cunt, watching her walls cave in around it as she cries out into the mattress. Gripping the hair at her crown again, I pull her face off the bed.
“No,” I growl, tightening my grip. “I need to hear the angels leave your body through your throat.”
She lets out a sob, gasping for air from the way I’ve got her head cranked back. I loosen my grip on her hair, clutching a fist full near her neck, rolling the long locks around my palm. She drops her head slightly, resting on her forearms with her back arched up towards me.
The curve of her spine is fucking magnificent from this view. I take my free hand and run it over the arch of her back, fingering each beautiful protrusion of her spine. She’s panting beneath me, her thighs trembling, waiting with just the head of my cock inside of her.
“Please, be gentle…” she whimpers.
I scoff. “Why do we have pain if we can’t mold it into pleasure?”
So many archaic rules, traditions, and sins are being broken, along with Briony in this room. All I want is for her to know that none of it matters. I want her to feel awakened by a new force, more powerful than the fictitious god she worships. I desperately seek to give her the power she’s entitled to. The power they keep trying to strip from her, owning her mind and body infinitely.
Briony will become the weapon she was always meant to be.
I spit down on my cock, wetting it up higher in order to ease myself inside her virgin walls. Watching as her knuckles turn white from her hold on the comforter, I push my way in, deep and fast, with a forceful thrust.
She gasps, a cry escaping her throat as she stretches to accommodate me. Her walls slowly loosen, but the grip is so tight, her pussy clamps around me like a fist.
I groan loudly, forgetting just how good sex can feel as she cries through her moans.
“Fuck, this view,” I grunt, pulling back out slightly and seeing her cum coating my dick, the curves of her frame beneath me screaming of femininity in it’s perfection. “This body was built for sin.”
Picking up the pace, I drop her hair and grip onto the thick flesh of her hips, driving myself into her faster and harder, falling into the feeling of being the first one here. Mine.
My balls tighten as they slap against her skin, surely leaving her lips nice and red from the assault.
She screams loudly before I bend over her back, wrapping a palm around her mouth. I still myself deep inside her, my cock hardening further as I feel her clamp down on me yet again.
“Careful now,” I growl. “We don’t need any heroes coming up here, trying to save you.”
She says something muffled in my hand, but I’m over it. I’m so close. It’s been too long since I’ve felt a pussy wrapped so tightly around my shaft. I’ve dreamed of this day with her since I started stalking her, watching her late at night, envisioning the moment she realizes her body is dripping for me, like it is now. Her arousal is leaking like a fucking faucet all over my cock.
Fuck.
With my hand over her mouth, I feel her teeth sink into the skin of my fingers, and it’s all I can take. Pain, along with pleasure, sends me over the edge. Violence is my love language, and she speaks my native tongue.
I’m gonna lose it.
I quickly slide out of her, gripping the base of my shaft, standing at the edge of the bed and instruct her to turn to face me. Her leg lies awkwardly beneath her as she shifts towards me, the rope still holding tight on her ankle. Getting her on her knees before me, my sickness takes over again.
Desecrating everything this sweet, naïve little doll thinks she believes in, I grip her neck in one hand, breathing hard through the knit mask that’s caging me in. She opens her mouth, sticking her pink tongue out at me like my good girl, assuming I want her to swallow everything I’m about to give her. Quick learner.
Her tears stain her cheeks as the dark, long hair sticks to the side of her face. She peers up at me, terror and intrigue melting together as I tighten my hold on her neck, leaning her back. I fist the tip of my wet cock, and standing above her bare body, I release myself on her heaving chest.
Ropes of white, hot cum pump out of me, coating her breasts, dripping down her collarbone like a beautiful necklace. Her own personal rosary.
The sensations overtake me, and I’m forced to fall forward, bracing myself on the mattress with my hand as I try to regain control of myself.
I stand up, gaining my breath, feeling dizzy and overcome with the immense pleasure as I glance back down at her. Her forehead is wrinkled as her hand goes to her chest. She touches the mess I’ve made, getting some on her fingers before holding it out before her horrified face. Her eyes drift up to meet mine as her fingers fall away, leaving only the middle one. The wrinkles in her forehead smooth out as her eyes narrow, leaving the finger dripping in my cum straight up before me.
She’s flipping me off.
A dark grin slides across my face, and I bite the corner of my lip, holding it back.
“You arrogant, disrespectful son of bitch!” she seethes.
Ah, so my sweet doll understands the meaning behind the necklace.
“Don’t act like you despise it now, sweetheart,” I say, taking a step forward. Gripping her hand with the finger still coated in me, I force it towards her mouth, pressing firmly on her lips against her teeth. She finally parts her mouth open, and I watch in satisfaction as she sucks it clean. “The evidence of that is mixed right in there.”
She turns her head away from me, a scowl on her face, tears threatening to fall again.
I wish society wouldn’t make a big deal about women losing their virginity. Who fucking cares. It doesn’t need to be this big monumental moment. You fucked for the first time. So what? Crying about it? Ridiculous. She should be thanking me on her goddamn knees, crying tears of joy for letting it be me who stripped her of this first. Someone who actually gives a shit about her, not some punk boy from school who pretends to love her before dropping her like a bad habit for the next tight cunt that comes calling.
I find the knife on the floor, cutting her free of the rope. Grabbing her upper arm, I help her stand. She’s a little unsteady on her feet, more than likely sore already. But it will be a feeling she needs to get used to now I’ve had a taste.
She walks along with me as I guide her into the dark bathroom, the moonlight barely leaking in through the tiny mosaic window. Starting up the shower, the water quickly warms up; the steam billowing in the small space as she stands in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering.
Removing my mask, my hair falls in a disheveled mess over my forehead. I run my fingers through it while feeling the heat of her eyes on my back. She is curious. I know she wants to know the man who just flipped her fucking world inside out.
But is she ready to know my secrets?
Which side will she choose when the truth is known and the entirety of her once preconceived beliefs come crashing down?
Surely not the villain of her story.
I’m meant to kill her. They literally hired me to end her life.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
Because she isn’t like them. She’s like me. Me, before I found my voice in this world. The world meant to control those who didn’t fear an omnipresent god who’s always watching, requiring perfection and fear in his subjects.
Those intelligent enough to know that a god wouldn’t answer the prayers of a young boy looking to win a baseball game, while his half-brother lay near dead, begging for his life in the street from the men his father hired to kill him.
Those who fight back for everything they tried to take while making a mockery of the religion they profess.
One by one, we’ll do what’s necessary.
Watching them fall to their knees before us and beg their god to save them before sending them to the depths of hell they fear they belong.
