Page 103 of Satan's Spawn
I stumble back and fall onto my ass, crawling backwards away from the dark shadow looming over me.
“What do you want from me, Crayton?”
“That’s easy. Your screams. Your surrender.”
Tiny sticks and rocks puncture the skin of my palms as I scoot desperately away from him.
“Haven’t I given you that already? I agreed to your terms.”
“That’s not surrender, it’s collateral.”
“So what the fuck is it?” I breathe harshly. “Just tell me so you’ll finally leave me alone.”
Hands are squeezing my throat, but I still don’t see his face. Only a faint blur of flesh, ink, and those deep blue irises.
The only clear picture in front of me is that God awful goat staring like death into my eyes.
This man is horrifying.
But so fucking beautiful in spite of it.
“I want to own your mind. Your body. Maybe even your soul.”
True words of a devil in disguise.
“So take me whichever way you want me. Claim me, own me. Take my surrender like you have everything else.”
There’s a guttural sound erupting from the blur of flesh.
Along with tightening around my neck, slowly stealing my ability to breathe.
Not that Crayton needs his hands to succeed at that.
“What if I want you like this? At my mercy?” He asks in a threatening tone.
“What if I don’t want your mercy?”
There’s that sound again. Jesus. A growl like that should not be this enticing.
“Oh, you’re just as twisted as I am, Little Ghost. Aren’t you?”
We are not going there.
“I’m nothing like you.”
“You’re right, you just ‘like me’, right? How I make you feel? The chills I cause to rise up your spine?”
I clench my teeth as he tightens his grip.
“Denying the darkness doesn’t mean it’s not inside you.” There’s a wisp of cool breath by my lips when he adds, “C’mon Rebecca Dawson, I dare you to show me yours.”
There’s a strangled cry rising out of me so loud I can hear it drift off into the night. Crayton’s other hand starts perusing my body, right around the area where my boy shorts meet my thighs.
“There it is,” he croons. “That perfect sound.”
“You want me to tell you how bad I want your cock inside me? Is that it?” I ask right before Crayton loosens the hand around my throat a miniscule amount. The other hand, though, it’s slowly toying with my undies. “Fine. I do. Every single fiber of my being wants to know what it feels like to be ravished by you. Degraded. Taken roughly.”
“But?” He intervenes, expectantly.
