Page 78 of Like A Moth To A Flame

Still, I stayed silent, but I nodded, just once. Panic began to bubble in my guts, and my breath came faster and faster until my head was spinning. He released my throat with a final brutal squeeze, and I sucked down air as if I would never have the luxury again, and who knew, maybe I wouldn’t.

“W-what are you gonna do?” I asked, my voice strained and hoarse. He moved closer to me, his hand dropping from my neck down to the neckline of my dress, pulling it down so painfully slow that my flesh prickled and burned.

“I’m gonna make your pussy cry.”

He dropped me, and I fell back to the stairs, my back pressed roughly against the sharp wood, and my fingers wrapping around the ropes tied at my wrists. His eyes were dark and fiery, like a storm brewing on the horizon. He moved closer, his boots scraping against the wooden floor, and I could feel heat radiating off himin waves. Fingers found the front of my dress again and pulled it down until it caught beneath the lace of my bra and held there. He ripped the cups down, exposing me to the chill of the air and the contrasting warmth of his palm as he caressed and kneaded my flesh in his hands.

I cried out, a mix of revulsion and pleasure as he touched me, my body reacting to his touch even though my mind screamed for me to fight. I’m not sure how long he continued this, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, my nipples hardening under his touch. He leaned over me, his scent enveloping me as he bent, and when his lips traced over my jawline, I felt something inside of me come to life. The stubble across his chin grated at my skin as he moved lower, capturing my lips in a heated kiss that left me breathless when he pulled back.

He bent lower, his lips tracing over my throat. Teeth nipped at my flesh until I yelped, and then I felt the gentle pass of his tongue caressing and soothing. Soon, my thighs were shaking, my hands yanking at my bindings. I hated the effect he had on me, but now it was undeniable.

He moved lower, and his lips caged the spiraled peak of my nipple, his tongue tracing soft patterns until I squirmed. Even if I tried to bite it back, I gasped and whimpered, my desire growing with each touch. His hand found the other, twisting and pinching, his mouth working me until I was moaning, my voice echoing in the hall and coming back to slap me across the face with my hypocrisy. Finally, he released me, and I sucked in a panting breath, my heartbeat pounding between my legs.

How did he have an effect on me when no one else did, and why couldn’t I fight him no matter how hard I tried?

As he worked his way down my body, I felt vulnerable and exposed, but also a strange sense of desire. The way he moved, the intensity in his eyes, and the slow, deliberate caresses sent shivers down my spine.

He reached my lower abdomen, his hand grazing the side of my panties, and I trembled, expecting him to take them off. But instead, he continued down to my inner thighs, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. His eyes never left mine, and I could see the hunger there, a raw intensity that made me feel both scared and lascivious.

With that, he dipped his head, his tongue tracing the line of my inner thigh, and I shivered from the cold air on my wet skin. His hands reached beneath the skirt of my dress and flipped it up, and finally, I found my voice.

“D-don’t!” I said, panting, my abdomen quivering and jumping as I fought to catch my breath. “I-I’m on my period, I-I—”

I yanked on the ropes again, but the knots were tight. I was stuck, caught like a fly in a spider’s web with no hopes of escape, and much like the fly, I was about to be eaten alive.

I knew he wouldn’t stop, not now, and not with the look in his eyes.

“Baby girl,” he whispered. “If I was afraid of a little blood, I wouldn’t have gotten where I am in life. Besides, if I have it my way, that’ll be the last one you have for a while.”

His free hand grabbed my thigh, and I flinched under his touch, the pain and pleasure of it leaving me breathless. His fingers found the edge of my panties and pulled, ripping them down my legs andexposing me. I squirmed under his gaze, ashamed and fervently wishing I could hide from the shadow in his eyes.

His tongue traced the line of my slit, and I gasped, my breath tearing into my lungs so hard that I tasted blood on the tip of my tongue. I hadn’t expected him to go that far, not like this.

His hands cupped my hips, holding me in place as he pressed his face between my legs, his tongue lapping against me and twisting against my clit. I bucked against his mouth, my body responding to his touch even as my mind screamed for me to stop him.

My body betrayed me with each wave, my hips rolling and grinding in desperation. The shadows around us seemed to dance and sway, performing a macabre ballet that strummed in beat with my torment. He paused, looking up at me, and I could see the satisfaction in his eyes.

I watched him, looking down as his fingers spread me, and before I could fight or react, he ripped out my tampon in one swift yank.

“No!” I cried, clenching my thighs as I tried to close them against his invasive hands. “Stop! Don’t! It’s gonna make a me-mess! Fuck!”

He ignored me, his fingers plunging inside of me and I cried out, my body arching up towards him, every muscle tight and rigid. I could smell the iron tang of blood and the salt of my arousal, but I couldn’t fucking stop it, and a bigger part of me didn’t want to.

I was so wet, throbbing, and it was all his fault. I felt like an animal, a wild beast that he was taming, but the primal side of me wanted him to take me further, to make me his forever. Break me and hold me down. I didn’t care. I wanted it all.

As he thrust his fingers into me, he looked up at me and smiled, a twisted grin that sent a shiver roaring through me. I screamed, my voice echoing through the empty house, but it only seemed to fuel him.

His free hand moved from my thigh and wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he leaned down, his tongue continuing its wicked dance. The ropes pulled tighter, the balusters groaning in protest, and my wrists ached from the pressure.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t remember why I had tried to stop this in the first place.

He forced his fingers in and out, his tongue working against my clit in a slow, steady rhythm. The stubble across his jaw sandpapered my sensitive skin, a stark juxtaposition to the gentle rolling of his tongue. My body shook, my heart pounding in my chest, my breath rapid and shallow. I was trapped in a world of pleasure and pain, of desire and fear, of submission and resistance.

It was a dance of yin and yang, and I was stuck smack dab in the middle.

Each wave sent my hips rolling, seeking more. I was helpless against this man, this beast that had taken control of me. My body writhed, arching towards his mouth as if it were the only place I wanted to be in the world.

And it was. Fuck, I was tired of denying it. I liked it.

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