Page 46 of Autumn Ritual

I stayed very still.

The flat of the blade rubbed my nipple as he pushed the skirt up my thighs. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the crisp air and leaned back on my hands. The blade trailed down my body, over the ruined lingerie, until it pressed against my pussy.

“So beautiful,” he rasped.

I held still as the flat part of the knife rubbed back and forth over my clit.

The scent of slaughtered pumpkin was savory on my nose. The wind blew the heat of the fire toward us. Every nerve in my body was alive and thrumming with pleasure.

“More,” I whispered.

With a dangerous chuckle that sent sparks shooting over my skin, he tipped his wrist and pushed the handle inside me. It was too shallow. Nothing like his cock. It began to work in and out of my channel.

“Look at you taking my knife,” he rasped. “Such a greedy little pussy.”

He reached up and slapped my breast. I jumped, whimpering at the sting.

“This tiny knife isn’t doing it for you, is it?” He spun the handle, making a circle of pleasure inside me. “This pussy wants to be fucked. Hard.”

I moaned, spreading my legs wider.

The monster accepted the invitation.

There was a dull thud as the blade fell to the grass.

“Who am I to tell the lost princess no?” he asked and tapped his fingers roughly against my clit. The bite of pain was delicious.

The devil removed his belt. The snap of the leather as it escaped the loops made my skin prickle.

“Lift your hair.”

I fumbled, adjusting my weight, before reaching for long tendrils.

The leather brushed against my neck before he looped the end through the buckle. He drew it tight. It might not be a leash made from shadows, but it was perfect, effectively siphoning off my air.

His cock sprang free a moment later. I had a split second to enjoy the sight: long and thick, almost red in the moonlight, and then it was nudging against me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and whimpered as he pushed deep inside. Right to the hilt. One arm snared around my back, holding me on the edge of the altar.

“As my sacrifice, you’re going to take it hard.” He tugged on the belt. “Ready?”

With a nod, I laid back on the altar. The moon glowed bright, nearly blinding. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The devil lifted my palm, sliding it under his mask. He sucked on the cut, groaning at the taste of me. There was a soft sting of pain, but my inner muscles clenched around his cock. I squirmed, trying to grind against him. Letting out a dangerous chuckle, he placed a soft kiss on the bloody mark before lowering it to rest on his chest. Right above his heart.

That was the last gentle moment between us.

He squeezed my breast and drove into me hard.

The devil fucked me without mercy.

There was nothing slow or gentle about this. His thrusts made the wooden altar shake. I curled forward, lifting my body to meet him. My fingers scrambled on the slippery surface, slick with the innards of the sacrificed pumpkin, while my hand on his chest left a crimson stain on his skin.

Wind howled around us. A log popped, cracked, and fell. I didn’t feel the cold. There was only him.

“You’re mine, Sara,” he grunted and slapped my breast again.

My body went rigid as the pleasure coiled tight. “Yes! I’m yours.”

His fingers slipped between us. He rubbed my clit, touch brutal.