The Bound Angel (Sacrilege Rising: Book 1)

Chapter Eight

The curve of her back is long and graceful, like a swan paddling lazily through the water. She is smooth and flawless, just like the water’s surface. A serene sheet of glass. But he can only hold back for so long. As if a stone was thrown into the water, her back ripples with each thrust.

Her skin is soft, like silk sheets between lovers in the dark. A feather brush on straining muscles. It’s a whisper in his ear, loving and supportive. A warm breeze on the back of his neck. He’s caressed by satin, unsure where one softness ends and the other begins. And it dimples where he squeezes.

Her face, her hair, the gentle slope of her shoulders, her trim build, it all comes together in a package of refined elegance. It’s in the way she seems to glide when she moves, in the way she speaks with that accent. She could have been a model. It wasn’t too late for that, of course, if she wanted it. She was a rose in full bloom.

These thoughts danced across Mike’s mind like a fluttering butterfly, tickling, but never quite breaking the surface, as he fucked this woman from behind. The sight of her prostrating before him, legs spread and arms locked, completely open and submissive, gave him a rush like nothing else could. A surge of lust electrified his nerves and darkened the shadow over his thoughts.

Her little whimpers and moans were like splashes of gasoline on a roaring fire. But he needed more leverage. He slid his hand up along her back, memorizing the lines of flesh and muscle, until it reached her shoulder. Then he pulled in opposition to each rutting thrust, deepening their connection.

He leaned forward, pressing his chest to her back, locking his arms in place around hers. Looming over her like this satisfied his desire for even more control while he fucked her like he owned her. Like an animal.

She turned to kiss him while he reached beneath, palm gliding up her trim belly, pausing to cup perky breasts, until his hand rested on her throat. He held her gently while they kissed, sending a message more than anything else.

She groaned into his mouth and pushed back into him, making his blood boil and urging him to stake his claim. The pace became frenzied as he ravished her again and again, until her moans echoed all around him.

Satisfied for the moment, Mike settled back on his haunches, slowing to firm thrusts, then luxurious grinding. Then he stopped, content to remain buried and simply throb and feel and run his hands over her skin.

A voice spoke. Familiar, but unimportant. It didn’t even register.

Something tickled his balls while he rested. A tongue, wet and teasing. He was reminded of the other woman beneath him, the one who was looking up from between bent knees. He shifted, savoring the feeling of his sack settling on her face. Eager to experience both sensations at once, his hips took over and resumed thrusting. His cock drove into hot silk while his balls dragged along caramel skin.

A thought occurred to him then, and he went with it. He pulled out and let his waving length bounce against the face beneath. He rocked his hips, grinding against her until she opened her mouth and took him in.

The voice spoke again. He ignored it.

A third woman knelt by his side. With a finger on his chin, she brought his mouth to hers. The sensation around his cock was slightly awkward. This position wasn’t ideal for a blowjob, and he considered pushing into her throat, curious how it would feel from this angle. Maybe later.

By his side, the woman’s tongue was as eager as his hand on her ass. The other was still on the first woman’s hip, holding it in place for when he wanted her again, which, as it happened, was right now. Without breaking the kiss, he lined himself up and pushed deeply.

“Michael,” the voice said again. This time it was accompanied by a face that made his heart stop and his cock throb. He knew that face. He’d been seeing it for days now. Days? That couldn’t be right. It had betrayed him and given him everything he ever wanted. Pale and pure as fresh snow. Hair as dark as a dreamless sleep. Eyes as bright and blue as the underside of a glacier.

“Liliana,” Mike whispered.

“You are losing focus,” she said. “These last attempts you couldn’t even locate the bond anymore.”

Her words were familiar, but they weren’t clicking. Bond? His eyes drifted to her tight choker necklace before falling to her chest, where they lingered. Then lower still, along the black dress that clung to her hips, the hem short enough to show off shapely thighs. They flicked back up. Not a necklace. A collar with a single, silver loop.

Fragmented memories drifted lazily into his mind. He said, “That can’t be right.”

He’d been trying to break the bond for... a long time. He just needed a rest, a few minutes to recharge. They were distracting, these three. He looked down. This one’s tight ass was bouncing in time with his thrusting hips. He decided to squeeze it.

The sound of a clearing throat caught his attention and he tried to remember. “We just tried again a minute ago. With, um…” Why couldn’t he remember her name? He looked down. “Allie. I just needed a second to catch my breath.” Allie was looking up at him from between Emma’s bent knees.

“That was last night,” Liliana said, searching his face.

Somewhere, a door opened on creaky hinges.

A memory came back then, like an object floating up from the bottom of the ocean. Last night, he remembered trying to decide between finishing on Allie’s face or chest.

Someone said something in a quiet voice.

He’d chosen her face. No surprise there.

The door closed.

But her tits were so nice, so full and heavy and perfect. He wanted to squeeze them.

The door creaked opened again. Someone really should do something about those hinges.

But his hands were occupied just now. One groped the ass next to him, the one whose groin was grinding against his leg. Dark, curly hair tickled his shoulder... Meredith. That was her name. The other was on Emma’s hip, pulling her back into him as he fucked her. He needed another hand.

Now a new voice was speaking. A man’s voice.

Mike settled on letting go of Emma, figuring she could push back into him on her own for a bit, while he reached beneath to caress Allie’s tits.

“Michael!” Liliana snapped. “Pay attention.”

A new figure was standing behind her. He wore dark robes that fell to his ankles. A deep hood hid his face. The robes were tied at the waist, and a long knife was tucked into a sheath at his hip. His appearance was familiar. Mike had seen men dressed like him before, but where?

The robed man said, “My Lady, I apologize for the intrusion, but you requested an update. We continue to make progress-”

“Concentrate, Michael,” Liliana’s cold voice interrupted the man. “This is so very important.”

It clicked. The warehouse with Lana.

Mattresses covered the floor, occupied by hopeless sacrifices. Chanting monks with dark robes and wicked, wavy knives. A circle of fire on the ground. Demons pulling themselves up from who knew where. Fanged, drooling, ill-proportioned monsters that quickly took on the appearance of regular people. At the time, Lana had made it clear that they were the enemy. She was desperate to strike them down and halt whatever evil they were summoning, if he would just free her. How could she have misled him about that?

“What happened at the warehouse?” Mike asked Liliana directly. It didn’t phase him in the least to have this stranger observe their current situation. He only had so much attention to spare, and right now it was all on the dark goddess scowling back at him.

She glanced at the man, clearly annoyed at the intrusion. “Nothing. A matter of no consequence to you.”

“Tell me,” Mike said.

She stared back at him, long and hard, before relenting. “Very well. This,” she said, gesturing to the robed figure, “is Silas. He had been active in this area for a time before my arrival. His,” she paused, glancing sideways, “previous employers had been operating in the city for years. My former master sent me to take it from them, and Silas was given the opportunity to join me, or not. He chose wisely. The men at the warehouse were his former colleagues and pets, who I was invested in removing.”

It still felt strange to hear this other woman speak like she was Lana. Not strange, nauseating. But Mike was detached, like this conversation was happening to someone else, like somebody else’s stomach was turning over at her words.

Mike growled, then shook his head. “So you didn’t want to kill demons, generally. Just the ones that weren’t on your side.”

“Does it matter? Would you prefer I left them alive?”

Anger rose in someone else’s stomach, replacing the nausea, boiling until it spilled out all at once.

“Does it matter?” Mike snapped back. “Of course it matters. My home is being infested by demons, and you’re the one bringing them in! You probably have warehouses like that all over the city. I thought you were fighting the good fight, taking risks, getting hurt, sacrificing for the greater good. But really, this whole time, you were the bad guy. I remember what you said that day. Women selling their bodies because they think there’s nowhere left to turn? That’s your fault. Husbands beating their wives because they believe the lies in their heads? That’s your fault. Children forced to help drugged out mothers lying on the floor because no one else cares? That’s your. Fucking. Fault.”

Mike was himself again. One mind, one focus. He didn’t notice when he’d stepped off the bed, but he was upright now, facing down Liliana without fear. She suddenly seemed less imposing. “Here my stupid ass was, thinking I was doing something good by making sure you were healed. What a crock of shit. I was part of the fucking problem. No more. I’m done. I’m-”

“Enough.” The whip-crack of her voice took his anger out at the knees. When she spoke again, she sounded regretful. “I understand, Michael. Truly, I do.” Her quiet remorse couldn’t smother his rage. The flames were doused but he still smoldered, waiting for the chance to ignite again. She took one careful step toward him. “You have every right to feel betrayed, and we will address that, you and I.” Then another step, placing one bare foot in front of the other. “We will come to an arrangement, together.” Her hips rolled hypnotically. “There is an imbalance between us. You are in charge, have always been in charge. You are my master.”

There it was again, that word whose meaning he ached to explore. “And I, your slave.” His eyes lost their focus and began to wander. The plunging neckline of her dress, the hem that rose and fell with each smooth step, the pale skin and soft curves he longed to touch.

“I will make it up to you. I promise.” She was right in front of him then, wide, vulnerable eyes looking up into his, lips parting, close enough to kiss. “But first, we must remove the obstacle in our path.” This close, he had a mouth-watering view down the front of her dress. “I would spoil you, master,” she purred, “like you could not dream. Any mortal you wish will be yours. The blonde at the corner store will beg you to join her in bed. The girl with the heart tattoo will scream your name as you ravish her.” Liliana licked her lips and Mike’s mouth went dry. “Remember, Michael, I know your fantasies. Every. Single. One. And I would indulge them all. But first, you must do something for me, master.” At that last word she reached out and softly gripped his cock.

Mike felt dizzy. His knees went weak. He thought he was going to cum right there in her soft hand, with her cool touch on his hot length. She stroked him gently, tentatively, like a first kiss. It was the perfect amount of indulgent pressure. Her other hand touched his back as she guided him toward the bed, back to the three women spread before him. He knelt in the sheets, her hands leading him back to Emma’s waiting pussy, Allie’s sultry face, Meredith’s willing body. She ushered him behind the woman bent and kneeling, and guided him to her entrance.

“I just need you to do something for me, if you can.” She sounded vulnerable, like she was in trouble and needed his help. “Can you do that?” He nodded. “Forgive me, master, but I fear you are not trying hard enough.” She hadn’t stopped stroking. “I fear you have become distracted.” Mike thought he was going to pass out from the pleasure. He cleared his throat and tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t come. “But that cannot be true, can it?” He shook his head, which made her smile, like the promise of a hot bath on a cold day. “I thought not. You will help me then?” He nodded again. She took his wrists and guided his hands on the hips before him. “Thank you, master. I promise it will be worth it.”

He pulled on those hips and started pounding, his balls dragging along the face of the woman beneath. For some reason, something about who she was, it gave him extra pleasure. He wanted to hear her moan. So he pushed down on the arched back until her body was flat against the girl beneath, and she was close enough to lick the sopping pussy under her face. Then he pushed on the back of her head. The one licking his balls moaned, which made him smile. The one kneeling next to him drew his hand to her ass, pressed her naked body to his chest, and slipped her tongue into his mouth.

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