Origin Of Sin

21. Cacodemon Glory (¡)

CHAPTER 21 CACODEMON GLORY

I braced my hand against his chest as his fingers, slowly— ever so slowly slipped from my recesses. Zuemier brushed his lips against my own, nipping at the flesh for my attention as I struggled to focus. I was so intensely aware of his touch but only at the expense of my other senses. I was frazzled. I was trembling, goosebumps pulsating across the entire expanse of my skin.

Zuemier chuckled at my cries when he again, without warning, sunk his fingers deep into me. He watched my reaction with dark satisfaction. "Kitten..." Zuemier murmured, nipping at my lips again for my attention again. I struggled to wretch my eyes open.

I peered at Zuemier, though my squinted eyes and lashes. He looked more than just 'human with some hellish qualities'. If anything he was the opposite, the sensual embodiment of hell condensed into a humanoid mold. Without the darkened shadows and the tired mind that veiled him in the patient room, I could truly see Zuemier for all of his ghoulish qualities.

His ashen horns were much more phantom-like in quality than of a boney ram like that I had initially assumed. Passing... no, phasing between existing in reality and fantasy, on a passing glance they'd be quickly forgotten. The glowing slitted eyes, extending pulsing canines and the tattoos that seem to come to life, creeping up his neck and face to radiate their inky lyricisms into the air around him— all of it would be assumed to be an elaborate play of the mind if I wasn't really looking. Forgotten in seconds. Realities normality would remain untouched.

But I was looking. If anything, I couldn't look away. Any tiny puddles of doubt I had for Elixio omission on the other types of humans, evaporated in Zuemiers presence. Zuemier was the other kind. Straight out of a child's nightmare except sexed up and hungry. He's the boogie man. The unknown. Zuemier's mere existence foreshadowed a cataclysmic end to humanity as its currently known— he's the superior, macabre, apex predator. We were his prey.

I am his prey.

I should run away. Screaming while this demonic inky cloudiness chased after me, nipping at my heels. I should be reporting his entire clan to the authorities or if anything, leave if it means the destruction of the clan. If I do, I could be humanities unspoken hero for taking down a great source of power from their challenger.

Zuemier fingers curled and cruelly dragged across my pulsing inner walls. I bit my lip hard, tasting copper and unsuccessful in silencing a cry as they dragged against a spot that made my whole body jerk in a sudden spasm.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my neck, inhaling before murmuring, "You smell good, Kitten," and prodded that spot again, and again, and again. I was left a moaning, mewling, crying mess with an orgasm showing her ugly, beautiful head. He chuckled at my misery, at my pleasure. Teasing me to the apex, but refusing me the climax.

I felt Zuemier's forgettable canines nip at my thundering pulse. They sharply reminded me that my lover was the enemy, the predator. My refusal of him could save humanity (in a dramatic sort of way). I should be saving humanity.

He prodded again at the sensitive spot, the spot that was having the stars that were in reach, singularly explode into fireworks at the brush of his fingertips and my knee kicked up reflexively, joining my hand in bracing itself against his lower chest— a result of me struggling to keep my self together as I was slowly made to fall apart at his hand.