Page 81 of The Cannibal

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, love.”

“Test me then, Beast.”

He shoved me backward, releasing the belt. “Say it again, temptress. See how far it gets you.”

“You’re a foul,” I slid myself backward away from him, he met the distance just as carefully, “horrific,” the two of us on a delicate tightrope, his body nearly in a crouch now, ready to pounce as his hand hovered to snatch the tail of the belt, “Creature,” I finally hissed.

His arm snapped out and he hooked his fingers around the buckle of the makeshift collar.

Instinctually, a noise of panic left my throat, a yelp before he pulled the belt.

I dragged my nails across the floor, my back scraping as he pulled me a foot or two his way. I turned from him to crawl away on my hands and knees, but the pressure of the leather around my neck kept me from getting too far.

His knee pressed between my legs, then outward.

With one knee tucked and the other extended, he had easy access to me. Easy enough where he spat on his hand, then immediately his fingers slicked between my labia, pressing farther to test my resilience.

The more I struggled, the rougher he handled me. Somehow, being tugged around was therapeutic. I could be completely still with no work put into the action. The wish to never make a single decision again. The luxury of being fucked and pleasured until I called for the fantasy to end and said our word.

A hot, thick cock pressed against me, making me jolt forward from the pressure alone. Silas tugged me back, gentle with his insertion at first. A deep groan and the first signs of the clicking against the nape of my neck.

As soon as he pushed inside, I felt a tear drip down my cheek. It was so hot against my chilled, wet skin. Like the first swallow of hot soup after a long day isolated in the cold winter.

“Too much,” I whimpered, which only made him slam his hips into me.

I braced against the floor as best I could, my knees scraping against the area carpet. All I could do was grip the tasseled edge.

Soon his length invaded me, but it was gentle, a much softer, passionate grinding.

“I forgot what it was like to slip into such a warm, welcoming cunt,” he hissed in my ear, followed by a satiated grunt.

“I won’t last,” I whined, “I won’t!”

He turned me onto my back, holding the tail of leather between my breasts. My makeshift collar was loose now, but the threat of restriction still loomed. With his hand flat on my lower stomach, he pulled out just halfway and held it there.

The heat of my face, the oxygen suddenly flooding my lungs from the new position, I thought I was seeing stars dance around him.

“You’re so wet I don’t even have to spit.” He looked at me pitifully.

“Didn’t want to . . . waste it . . .” I panted, squirming as he withheld the length I craved.

“What a good idea.” He grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks. “Open your mouth for me, love.”

My mouth remained closed, not out of a lack of want but a desire for the unruly.

His grip tightened, my mouth becoming loose when the skin of my cheeks pinched between his fingers and my teeth. As soon as my lips parted, he spit right into my mouth before his tongue joined in.

He grinned so wide it was hard to kiss him, our fangs clicking together.

“Tell me you missed me.”

“No,” I breathed, “I wouldn’t say that even if you begged me.”

“Is that why I can feel you pulsing around my cock? Did you miss the way I filled that dark, empty part of you?”

“Nothing could fill that vacancy; it can only be entertained for a short while.”

“Tell me a lie, then.”