Demon's House

Sweet Release

He sways on his feet a moment, and I know he's eager to approach. I can't decide if I should go to him or wait. The desire to kneel at his feet is overwhelming. Before I have to decide, he's walking toward me with the slow pace of a predator. His eyes scan my entire appearance like he can't get enough. He's tired of waiting, too. I slide off the table just as he gets to me, sinking to my knees gracefully between him and the table. His next breath sucks in shakily, and I'm impatient for his control to snap.

I feel his hand grip my hair, claws scraping gently. He pulls slightly, and a moan sounds low in my throat, almost a growl. We're both panting, and I start to realize just how much of a height difference there is. Before I couldn't be sure is the table was messing with my height perspective, but at 5'2, it's not uncommon for me to be the shortest in a group. From my spot on the floor, my head doesn't even reach his waist. Hopefully he doesn't expect me to.

Just as the apprehension creeps in, his hand digs into the back of my hair and pulls my ass off my feet. I'm up on my knees now, and neither of us can pretend I didn't just moan loud as fuck. My hands are shaking as I raise them to rest on his legs. I'm opening my mouth to beg for something anything, but no words come out. I just whimper helplessly, and he seems to get the message.

"Get up." The order is short and to the point. His tone dares me to question or disobey. Fortunately, I have no such plans. I scramble to my feet so fast I have to catch my balance on the table. We're standing really close, so he only has to shuffle forward to press our bodies against each other. I can feel his erection poking into my stomach, and his hands grip onto my hips. He hisses and presses us closer.

"What do you want to do to me?" My voice comes out in a desperate, breathy rush, and I crane my neck up with pleading eyes to see a small smirk playing across his lips. His excitement is palpable and clear in his eyes. I shiver as his hands snake around my waist, and I almost don't notice him licking his lips again and leaning his head down.

"You'll know soon enough, my pup." His voice drops on octave from its already deep, rich tone, and his mouth is as close as it can get to my ear, his breath ticking my hair. I shiver against him, trying to decide what he wants me to do. All he's doing is holding me to him. Maybe I should hold him back? I timidly place my hands on his hips with no response. How am I supposed to know I'm doing things right if he won't approve or disprove?

"What-" I stop to swallow. "What do you want me to do?" The flicker in his eyes tell me I've made the right choice.

"You can start by getting back up there." He gestures to the table thing, and, once again, I'm scrambling to get to where I need to be. "Such a good boy." The words were enjoyable enough on their own, but the way he said it half-growl, half-purr really rubbed me a particular way. The control snaps in his eyes all of a sudden.

One moment he's eyeing me intensely, and the next my breath is stolen in a hot kiss. Make-out session might be a better word. Even that doesn't fit the intensity. I think he realizes right off the rip that I have no idea how to kiss, but he seems to enjoy that more than anything. That gives him complete control over the situation.

I'm suddenly pulled back from my euphoria by the feeling of his fangs pricking my bottom lip. With my sense of feeling kicked up to a whole new level, I can't help the loud moan that escapes me. Shame isn't anywhere close to being able to reach me, however, and I can't care less. He doesn't seem to be bothered by it. In fact, he lets out a grunt of sorts, and I only just realized he hasn't been touching me because I feel his fingers grip onto my hips.

He pulls me to him and presses us together. I can our bulges touching, and it's all I can do not to completely melt into a huge mess. My breath comes out in shallow pants, my eyes heavy with lust as I wait for him to touch me somewhere else. I start to fear he'll pull away when his breath hits my neck. The next thing I know, his tongue is right in the perfect spot. I gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders to ground me.

There's a slight pause, and I'm scared he'll pull away again. Instead, he pushes me back and lines my arms with the arm straps. A slight apprehension builds in me, and I think he sees it because he stops.

"Is this alright?" I can't tell if it's concern in his voice or not, but it makes me feel batter anyway.

"What are you gonna do?" As much as I want this, I'm not sure I can trust him yet. His eyes look a little sad for a moment before he smiles, stroking my hair as gently as he can with it being so nasty.

"Whatever you want me to do to you. I can sense it from you, you know. I know you want this." Sadness changes to a smug smirk, and I feel my face flush in an entirely different way. I'm surprised I don't have a nose bleed at this point. He leans down to speak in my ear again. "You can't lie to me." A shiver wracks my spine as I suck in a gasp. It probably should've sounded intimidating, but I'm so far gone, all I can hear is his deep, rumbling voice and the underlying lust.

I give in to everything that is him, and he takes full advantage. My clothes are shredded off and my limbs carefully strapped down. The cold on my bare skin makes it feel so much better when he touches me; I can't help whine a little when he leaves to gather a couple toys. My attention shifts to my favorites, and I realize he's using that to take his picks. He grabs the riding crop with such careful fingers, running them along it for a moment. I give another groan/whine at his show, he chuckles. As more things are picked up, I'm running out of time to decide whether or not I want the knives. There go the candles and lighter... My eyes take an almost longing look to them.

"If you want to try them, I am capable of going easy. This is only our first time, of course. And if I'm correct, it's your first in general." I'm startled by his sudden dialogue and even more so realizing his last statement was prompting conformation. My face reds again, and I turn away in embarrassment, not that he's looking anyway.

"Y-yes." He thinks I don't see the shiver my answer, and especially tone of voice, gives him.

All of the toys are picked out, including the smallest of his knives, and suddenly I'm blindfolded. I hadn't seem him grab the fabric, but I'm unable to deny my appreciation and pleasure. He then proceeds to touch me in ways I'd never imagined. My body is used and, dare I say, violated so pleasurably. The rest of the night is spent in complete bliss, and I'm not even sure I was all the way there for any of it. When we finally decide we've released everything in our systems, he unstraps me with his once again gentle hands, carrying me off somewhere. His arms are so strong, and his voice both firm and soft as he says, "You're so amazing, Atlas. Rest, you deserve it. I'll take care of you."

I never hear any water running, but I feel myself be lowered into warm water. Sleep completely overtakes me, the last thing in my mind a realization that I've found my escape.