Sierra

I 'm surprised to have said those words to him, but I couldn't help but let them escape when I felt his cock digging into my ass. I'm not repulsed at the thought of him inside me, I don't flinch away from his touch, and I don't find myself on the verge of tears when he grabs me with the same intensity as the men of my past.

Is it possible that I am just dreaming? That Julian did not just say those words. That his rich, earthy whiskey scent isn't actually intoxicating me.

Watching him through the mirror, my focus goes towards the pocket knife he pulled out. It's a silver blade that flips open with ease. I'm hypnotized by the way the blade shines under the light. The reflection through the mirror has a shine that allows you to see how clean and sharp it truly is.

He slowly moves it towards my throat, my heart increases rapidly the closer the blade gets. "Are you scared, bruja?" He chuckles, the laugh menacing like he feeds off the fear radiating off my body.

I shake my head lightly; the tip of the blade digs a little deeper with each shake until I wince at the small cut he carefully made on my skin. We both watch transfixed on the small droplet of blood that oozes out. He leans in carefully as if he's trying to get a better look at his mark when he sticks his tongue out lapping at the blood dripping from the fresh cut until it's wiped clean.

The sensation of his warm tongue against my skin has my cunt completely soaked, in a way that I only thought possible from the wet dream I had of him. The small mark practically disappeared as if it had never been there. I pout, missing the visible cut like I would miss a vital organ.

"Do you think you can handle me?" he challenges, his taunting words in his Spanish accent has me wanting to fight him. As if asking him to fuck me wasn't humiliating enough. I look at him with defiance through the mirror. "Do you think you can handle me?" I mimic him.

His free hand grips my waist with a little more strength and then, he turns me around and places me on the counter. His knife back on my throat as if it had never lost contact.

"Spread your legs, Mu?eca. Let me see how wet your pretty cunt is," he rasps as he steps back enough to watch. He closes the blade and sticks it inside his front pocket, my attention goes to the bulge in his pants that's much more visible now. His demonic cock is perfectly outlined in his jeans. I bite my lip, and lift my blue summer dress enough for him to see the blue panties that show the wet spot I've had the moment I stepped foot inside this house.

I can feel my cheeks redden with heat and embarrassment as his eyes darkened with lust and maybe a little fury. He quickly fumbles with his zipper until he's swiftly brought them down all the way. His boxer briefs don't leave anything to the imagination, the outline of that monstrous cock clearly more defined. Are those bumps?

Before I can accuse him of having some sort of fucking disease because, of course he would when he visits places like the Temple. His boxers are pulled all the way down and his cock bounces the moment he's released, his beautiful demonic cock has piercings along his shaft. Before I can count the barbells, he wraps his calloused hand around himself, squeezing and pumping himself a few times, causing his dick to leak precum.

"Move those panties to the side, little Mu?eca. I'm going to fuck all the other demons away, until the only one left is me," he groans. His eyes remain on my covered pussy watching as I carefully move my panties to the side. I slide my fingers in my wet cunt until they are fully covered in my arousal. Before I can get my fingers close to my mouth, he grabs my wrists and closes his mouth, sucking off my taste like he just had a delectable meal.

"Next time, I'll make sure you come at least three times before I have you screaming out my name." He steps in a little more aligning himself, resting the tip of his cock on my entrance, his arms flex as he grips the hem of his black T-shirt and tucking it under his chin so we both watch as his cock slides right in.

I'm surprised at the amount of restraint he has with the way he slowly pushes his way past any resistance my pussy gives him. His cock is the biggest I've ever seen. The men that have pushed their way inside can't compete with the girth and length Julian has been gifted with.

"Eyes on us, . Watch how your pussy wraps my cock so well," he says, gripping my chin making sure I don't miss a single moment. I can feel the barbells of his cock against the wall of my cunt, a loud moan falls from my lips when he's fully seated inside me.

His palm goes over my mouth, as he slowly moves back and forth, pushing my body further back until I connect with the mirror. "Shhh, little witch," he whispers, "wouldn't want your best friend knowing you're fucking the enemy." Opening my mouth as best I can beneath his palm, I bite down on as much flesh as I can until he removes his hand. His thrusts turn harder, more brutal as he slams into me again and again.

"Fuck, ch-choke me. Now. D-Demon." I struggle to let out. I don't think he likes being told what to do. But he listens, gripping my throat with his free hand as the other digs his fingertips where old bruises have faded. Their imprint still haunts me as if they were permanently etched on my skin for years and only resurfaced during my abduction.

He squeezes my throat a little more, his eyes glance down at his hands as he feels the pulsing of my heart and back to my lips. My breathing slows as he continues fucking me until my vision blurs and slowly turns to black for a single moment. His grip on my neck disappears the minute my body starts to spasm at the intensity of the orgasm that snuck through me in waves.

"You're mine now, little Mu?eca. Even your spells can't keep me away now," he whispers, and licks off the sweat that lingers on the spot that he had cut moments earlier. His thrusts grow rapid, my sensitive pussy already pulsing through another mini orgasm as his cock twitches and warm cum fills me.

He reluctantly pulls out; his eyes still hold a fury in them like he doesn't understand what just happened. I whimper at the loss of him, missing the way his cock felt deep in my core. Hell, I don't even understand what the fuck happened. I asked him for this. I thought he would have rejected me, fueling the fire within me enough to find another kill to let off some steam.

Rubbing his palm up and down my entrance, he spreads the mixture of our cum all over my cunt, massaging it into my skin like lotion. "You've been marked, brujita. There's no escaping my grasp now." He chuckles, pulling his boxers and jeans back in place. He glances at me one more time, my body is completely frozen in shock and disbelief. He adjusts my panties back in place and pulls the dress, hiding my legs underneath the fabric.

"Don't clean yourself off, . Sit with the reminder of what just happened." He unlocks the door and walks out without another glance in my direction.

Did that just happen? I lift myself off the counter and stare at my reflection. I look thoroughly fucked; my hair is knotted with small bruises around my neck from the way he choked me. My cheeks are flushed with tints of red spreading down to my chest.

I always hate myself a little more when I look at my reflection, always reliving the pain of my abusers. This time, I see just a girl who had the best fuck of her life and loved it. A girl who looks beautiful and fulfilled in a way I've never felt before.

A girl not hiding behind her mask.

Until the reality of the situation comes back and my need to cause a little violence comes reeling in. How could I let myself feel vulnerable with the enemy?