Page 22 of The Nephilim's Finesse

“Good girl. Continue.”

I held the vibrator at the place, pleased by his praise. His eyes were dark pools of desire, and while he tried to look relaxed, I saw how tense he was. His fists were balled at his side, his jaw tight, his blood rushing into his erection, which pushed against his jeans.

“Take one hand to your breast and knead it. Pinch the nipple.” His voice was hoarse; he was clearly turned on. Because of me, simply by watching me. He had power over me, telling me what to do, but I had power over him too. I pushed my hand under my shirt, but my shirt and bra were too tight, so I laid the vibrator on the bed and removed my garments. I was now totally naked, but I didn't care. A wave of anticipation coursed through me as I prepared myself to experience the intense sensation he had promised. Raph's eyes roamed over my body, and he drew in a sharp breath. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and whispered, “Fuck.”

I took the vibrator back in one hand, and with the other, I kneaded my breast as he told me. Raph bit his lips, clearly fighting to stay seated. The vibration and the look on his face aroused me further, and another groan left my lips.

“That’s it, yeah!” He swallowed hard.

The ache inside of me intensified, but at a certain point, it didn’t climb any further. When I was human, I felt like I had to pee, but not the release when you let the water go. This felt similar to it. Why didn’t the release of this tension come? Was this the climax? I tried to move the tip around to find the best spot, but the feeling didn’t rise. It was like climbing a mountain, and directly before the top, I couldn’t go further. Why didn’t this work? Shouldn’t this happen automatically? I wanted the release of that feeling; I was so close, I could feel it. After a few minutes, I removed the vibrator and turned it off.

“It doesn't work,” I growled.

I looked at him, my legs spread wide before him, his eyes on my sex. He licked over his sensual lips, and I wished he'd kiss me there. Raph could hardly tear himself away from the sight between my legs. After a few moments, he looked up into my eyes.

“It's absolutely normal that it didn’t work the first time. You still think too much. You have to let go.” His voice was strained, like he held himself back with all his might.

“Maybe I have to push this thing inside of me. That’ll work.”

He closed his eyes briefly, swallowed hard, and then shook his head. “Not necessarily. Try again and try not to think. You did great.”

He stood abruptly and nearly ran out of the room.

I was frustrated. Not about the obvious thing that I was imprisoned, which should be on my top priority list; no, I was frustrated that it didn’t work. Raph had put that little devil in my head, telling me that it was possible to experience this feeling at last. But it wouldn’t come. I couldn't force it.

I took the dark brown vibrator, put a bit of the gel on it, and turned it on. Placing it between my thighs, I searched for the spot that felt best, like Raph told me. I closed my eyes, remembering his voice, deep like velvet; his eyes full of desire, his visible bulge in his jeans. Moving my free hand to my breast, I imagined it to be his hand sending those sparks to my core. The vibrator massaged my sensitive part, but I felt empty somehow. I relocated the tip to my entrance and pushed it slowly inside me. It didn’t hurt, which was good. How would it feel if Raph were doing this? Even better? After some minutes of pushing and pulling the toy in and out of me, the shaft was fully inside of me, and the vibrating appendix was against my most sensitive part. I felt something was building inside me; I was climbing higher and higher. I was almost there, almost there, and then it stayed on that level. The final bit was missing, the last bit that'd push me over. My desire was ebbing away fast.

I removed the vibrator and turned it off. I snorted. This would never work. I felt tears building up in my eyes. Why was this world so cruel? I had been so close and yet so far from achieving the pleasure that I longed for, the pleasure I had seen others enjoy. Was this not meant to be for me? I felt my body betrayed me, leaving me longing and unsatisfied.

Why was this world so cruel? Why'd the world punish me again and again? Was this my retribution for being so vicious myself? Yet, hadn't I suffered enough? A bitter laugh eluded me. No, this here wasn't cruel. Compared to the horror I had witnessed in my past, this was nothing.

I placed the bucket down and knelt in the dirt in front of our abode. A small pup sat before me with big brown eyes that invited me to caress its yellow fur. The dog was one of the puppies from the miller's dog, and it took a liking to me. I looked forward to seeing it every day and stealing some minutes of bliss. The puppy lay on his back and started to purr. Suddenly, a huge shadow was cast over us, a looming foreboding.

“What are you doing?” bellowed Goodwyn menacingly behind me. He kicked me in the side with such force that one of my ribs broke, and I fell to the earth. My heart raced as I feared how he'd punish me for dallying in idleness. He was garbed in his brown trousers and once white tunic, smothered with dirt and sweat, while emanating the stench from his smithery, hot iron, smoked wood, and acrid sweat.

“You were supposed to work, not frolic around! It seems I must teach you a lesson!”

Holding my hands above me, I whimpered. “No! I’m so sorry, Goodwyn! It shan't happen again!”

“Of course, it shan't happen again!” He bent down and lifted the puppy up. Taking a foreleg into his huge hand, he ripped it out in one stroke. The pup yelped, then cried out in anguish. My godforsaken husband did the same with all four legs and cast the puppy aside into a bed of grass—still alive but bleeding considerably and crying out at an ear-piercing pitch. Cringing, I held my hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks. If only I hadn't petted the pup...

“Come into the house!” He grabbed me with blood-covered hands, pulling me up.

"But," I uttered in despair as the screams echoed in our ears, "...but it still lives."

“This is your fault! Look what you’ve made me do!” He dragged me through the door and pushed me against the kitchen table. Lifting my skirts, he stepped behind me and clutched roughly at my waist.

“Don’t you disobey me again, wife,” he seethed fiercely into my ear as he drove himself into me with violent thrusts. I kept silent throughout for fear of incurring even greater wrath from him while pain tore through my insides like wildfire. While he abused me, I could still hear the puppy outside screaming in pain. The cries of terror finally ceased after what seemed like an eternity; nothing would ever expunge from my memory those wretched shrieks. If I hadn’t stroked the dog, it'd still live. Goodwyn was right. It was indeed my fault.

8 Raph

I sat at the wooden table in our office, the familiar scent of coffee grounds filling my senses. Nate sat next to me, sipping his coffee. Puriel stood by the window, her arms folded as she gazed out at the Thames below. The golden light of the setting sun illuminated her profile, shadows dancing across her braided hair.

As always, we had important matters to discuss, but a comfortable silence had fallen over the three of us. Moments of quiet companionship like this were rare and to be treasured.

Nate rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully, brow furrowed. "With Asasel gone, the younger ones are restless. They crave more freedom and independence."

Puriel tossed her braid over her shoulder. "They question the old ways. Our laws and traditions no longer satisfy them." Her voice clearly stated that she didn't share their opinion.

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