Friday, January 17, 2014

Deamon's Kiss (pt 3)

Astrid inwardly screamed in rage as the man before her ran his hand lightly over her cheek. She struggled against the urge to sigh in pleasure as that touch moved down past her ear to dance along the column of her throat. Her resistance to his magic manifested as a strangled groan. He gave a soft chuckle of amusement.

"Yes," he purred as he moved forward. Astrid leaned back as the one who had defeated her pressed her back on her heels. Slowly, they settled on the cold, hard ground as though it were a soft feather bed. His body, the body that had delighted her so much the night before, pressed her down to that terribly hard, frozen ground. The ice beneath her burned against her skin, but Astrid didn't feel it.

The heat of his magic and of his touch intensified as he lowered his mouth to hers. Astrid's body moved of its own will, her hands grasping at his clothes to pull him closer even as she arched up to meet him. Waves of pleasure rolled over her, pushing her deeper into her mind as he broke the kiss and nuzzled her throat. He bared his teeth and set them lightly against either side of her windpipe. Slowly, he closed them against the delicate flesh of her neck.

Panic flared up briefly and Astrid drew in a shuddering gasp. Her hands pressed against his chest as she, for a brief moment won control of her body. He took hold of her wrists and pinned them down to either side of her shoulders. He gave a low, feral growl and Astrid felt those teeth at her throat subtly change to something more pointed, almost canine.

Astrid was convinced that her 'husband' was about to tear her throat out but then the magic rolled over her and her body went from tense and ready to fight to soft and yielding. Those pointed teeth moved away from her throat and closed over where her neck met her shoulder. Though there was the rough fabric of her tunic between his teeth and her shoulder, Astrid could feel those ominous points pressing threateningly against her flesh.

She shuddered in pure arousal as they slowly pressed harder against her. The line between arousal and pain was crossed but Astrid was helpless to do anything about it. Inwardly, she screamed and did her best to force herself to bring her knee up into his groin. Instead, her thighs parted as a sensual moan escaped her. Again, he growled.

Astrid's body shuddered hard as his unnaturally sharp teeth broke the skin. It was as though she had an orgasm but there was no pleasure with it. His hands moved down her forearms and along the insides of her upper arms to where her ribs began. He dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh near her armpits and despite the sharp pain that lashed at her, she shuddered again.

Slowly, he dragged his nails down her sides. When he reached her waist, he began to gather handfuls of fabric and pull the tunic up. He leaned back, pulling her upright with a hand gripping the neck of her tunic and a hand gripping the bottom hem. He looked at her for a moment. While her face had the drugged look of pleasure that she had worn the night before when he had undressed her and covered her with tiny love bites, her eyes burned with rage and terror.

He smiled and pulled the knife he wore at his side free from its sheath. The metal was black as night and seemed to absorb the light as he brought it before her eyes. He let go of her and smiled as she fell back limply to the ground, striking her head hard. Where she normally would have cried out in pain and reached a hand up to touch where she hit her head, Astrid found herself giving a sensual noise and her body squirming with apparent pleasure. Her 'lover' brought his strange knife to the edge of her tunic.

The fabric parted easily with not even a whisper of sound. He opened the cut halves of her tunic like a book. Beneath where he had passed with his knife, a long, thin line was scored into her skin, even though he had not touched it. Carefully, he brought the tip of the knife down and Astrid screamed as bitter, burning cold poured down from that metal into where it rested against her flesh. The pain was so potent that it ripped through the spell and Astrid's body reacted.

She tried to shrink away from the metal against her skin but the unyielding ground did not let her. He smiled as she brought her arms up to try to push him away from her.  Over her right breast, he drew a thin line and Astrid's initial scream turned into a long keening wail of agony. She beat her fists against the cold, hard ground, disoriented by the pain. Slowly, he scored a series of other lines into her skin, drawing a sigil of some sort upon her.

Astrid had moved from rage to despair. Her body, in the grips of the spell, shuddered with successive climaxes even as the pain left her screaming in raw agony. His drawing complete, he set the knife aside and dipped his head. His tongue rasped over the intricate lines and pleasure rolled over her again. Astrid's screams dropped down into low, guttural moans as his mouth wandered over the region of her right breast.

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