Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Her nails drag down my chest, her tongue dances with mine, and she moans like no woman I’ve ever once heard. Her dewy, eager little pussy floods my fingers with her arousal, and I pump my finger in and out and roll my thumb over her clit. I push her higher, deliberately taking my damn time. I know she’s never done this. It’s beyond obvious that this girl is a virgin in every fucking conceivable way, and thought of being her first in every possible way has my cock throbbing and my balls aching for release.
I curl my finger deeper and rub her clit harder, and Delilah starts to crumble. She moans, and writhes, and rocks against me. Her breath comes faster and more ragged, until suddenly, she pulls away and looks at me with a crumpled face.
“Oh God, Gabriel!”
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I hiss. “Come all over my fingers like a bad girl.”
Her eyes roll back, she drops her head back, and she explodes for me. Her pussy clenches around my finger like a velvet vice, and as she cries out, I can feel her cum flooding my hand. She moans and gasps as her orgasm slams through her like a brick house before she all but collapses into me. I slide my hand from her panties and wrap my arms around her as she sinks against me, limp and panting for air.
And then suddenly, it all goes wrong. Suddenly, she pulls back from my chest, and when she looks up at me, I don’t see lust, or orgasmic bliss. I see horror.
“Oh God,” she breathes. Her face goes white, and suddenly, she’s pushing me away and scrabbling down from the table. She yanks her dress back into place, her shoulders heaving and her lips moving with no words coming out.
“Delilah—”
“No.”
She finally turns to face me, her eyes wide and cheeks devoid of color. She looks petrified, or like she’s just had a near death experience.
…Not exactly the outcome I was looking for in making her come for the first time.
“Delilah—”
“I was wrong,” she breathes, her shoulders still heaving and her eyes blazing into mine.
“About?”
“You are the Devil,” she whispers, backing away from me.
Anger clouds my face, and my eyes narrow.
“Takes two to fucking tango, sweetheart,” I growl.
“This…” she shakes her head. “This isn’t what I came here for.”
“No?” I snap. “Then enlighten me. What did you come here for?”
She swallows, her face pale. “I—I don’t know.”
“Well, when you fucking figure it out,” I growl. “You know where to find me.”
Her lips purse, her eyes narrow at me, and she slowly backs way. “I do, and believe me, I will never be back here again.”
She turns, and she runs.
For a moment, I think about chasing her. I think about following and telling her to stay, and telling her she’s the one pure, good thing I’ve felt in perhaps my entire life. But obviously, I don’t. Instead, I slump into my chair, I reach for my half-bottle of cheap whiskey, and I drink.
I drink until I can’t remember the sound of her moans, but I don’t ever actually get there.
Chapter Nine
Delilah
“You okay, honey?”
“Hmm?”
I blink and look up from the garden behind our house to see my father standing there looking at me with concern.
“Oh, uh, yep.”
But no, I’m not. Yesterday, I fell into Hell and damnation. Yesterday, I gave in to lust, and the temptations of the flesh, and I let that man—that devil—put his hands on me.
All over me.
On the one hand, I haven’t stopped buzzing since. I’ve felt more alive in the last twenty-four hours than I have in the last eighteen years. I feel… a power, I guess. But while my heart wants to tell me that it’s a good feeling, my soul knows otherwise. I know that “good” feeling in my heart is Satan himself smirking and chortling for tricking me into eternal hellfire.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine, Papa.”
And now I’m lying to my father. How far I’ve fallen with just one slip. But then, it isn’t just one slip. It’s an entire slippery, sliding, sinful slope.
“You sure?” my father frowns. “You’ve been poking at the dirt around that tomato plant for the last ten minutes.” He smiles. “What’s eatin’ you, Delilah?”
I shrug, and he chuckles.
“C’mon, honey, talk to me. Whatever it is—”
“Have you ever thought one thing about someone, and then found out they’re not what you thought, and been a little disappointed? But then, also you don’t altogether dislike what it is they are, it’s just confusing because it’s not what you thought?”
Papa blinks in surprise.
“Never mind,” I mumble. “Sorry, don’t mind—”
“I haven’t,” he says slowly. “But your mama has.”
I frown. “What?”
“Thought someone was something else, found out they were different, but stuck around to figure that person out.”
I blink in surprise. “Really? Who?”
He grins. “You’re lookin’ at him.”