her soul to take (Harley Laroux)

page 34

He winced, and gave a little shrug. "Maybe." "Maybe? What the hell am I supposed to do then?" "Try offering me your soul." His tone was cocky, but clipped, as if he'd allowed the words out only begrudgingly. "Offer me your soul in exchange for protection." I stared at him, stunned, until I began to slowly shake my head. "No. No way. I'm not offering you my soul." He shrugged again. "Good luck then. Now..." He leaned over me, those damned tempting full lips curled into a saucy smirk. "How long are you going to ignore that little problem of yours?" I frowned, self-consciously squeezing my legs together. "What problem?" His smirk widened. "You are dripping at the sight of me." Blood flooded my cheeks, and heat flooded between my legs. I sputtered, looking away — but I couldn't deny him. I couldn't lie. "Fuck you," I muttered. "You're welcome to." "Why don't you just do it?" I blurted out, throwing up my hands. "You keep threatening and teasing and...and...looming over me." I glared up at him, my fists clenching when I found him laughing. "Just do it?" He chuckled. "Just bend you over and ravage you here and now? Just do it, so you don't have to give in? No, no, no." He clasped his hands behind his back. "That would be too easy. I want to see you squirm, I want to see you beg. If you're going to be damned, you need to go willingly." The tension inside me was going to explode. My clit felt swollen, my panties were damp. The sight of him shirtless and bloodied, having just unleashed his true hellish self to save my life, was unreasonably arousing. "Please, just —" "Aw, please." He pouted, mocking me again. "Please? Please, what? Use that pretty mouth of yours, come on. Speak." I clenched my teeth, a petulant whimper squeaking out. I was damned, just as he'd said. "Do you want to set up your camera first?" he said. "This would make for great clickbait, wouldn't it? Fucked By A Demon In A Cemetery?" He chuckled to himself. "I'd watch that." "You're an asshole," I whispered. "You are what you eat." "Fucking hell," I gasped, my hands clinging for the headstone behind me as if that would somehow keep me grounded. I hadn't felt this unbearably, irrationally horny since I'd taken Ecstasy at my eighteenth birthday party. I lowered my voice, as if the dead themselves could hear me and clutch their pearls at what I was going to do. "Fuck me. Please." He shook his head and brought his face down closer, motioning to his ear. "Can't hear you. A little louder please. Fuck you where?" "Goddamn it, Leon —" "I just ripped a living thing to shreds, doll. I'm in a very sadistic mood and will gladly let you stand there and stumble through humiliating yourself all night. Or, you can just say what you really want, and I'll bend you over this headstone, eat your little cunt until you drip down your thighs, and fuck you until you forget your own name. What'll it be?" I gulped. I'd never been very religious, but it only felt right to cross myself before I dared to say, "Bend me over and...and fuck me...fuck my cunt...please —"