Page 24 of Semper
“Very soon,” Alexander replied.
“We look forward to it.”
My breath hitched as they moved closer, their presence lingering for a moment longer before one of them gently brushed their fingers over my shoulder, as if to test the fresh mark. “Until next time,” Emilio stated, his tone laced with amusement.
“Until next time,” Bishop echoed, his voice cheerful.
They bid their final farewells to Alexander and left me there, bound, and exposed, as the door creaked shut behind them. I was alone with Alexander once again. His fingers brushed lightly over my spine, tracing a path up to just above the mark he had re-branded onto me. His other hand trailed down my body, causing my breath to hitch in anticipation. I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill over as he reached beneath my dress.
There was no escape from his touch, not with the blindfold covering my eyes and chains binding me in place. His fingertips grazed along the hem of my underwear, teasing and torturing me with their feather-light touch.
"Please, don't," I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Alexander, don't..."
My pleas were ignored. He tugged down my underwear and let them fall to the ground around my ankles. The room felt smaller, suffocating even, as he traced the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. It was like he was etching a map onto my skin, each touch a secret message meant only for him to decipher.
"I will never hurt you more than what is necessary," he promised softly, his tone both comforting and threatening at the same time. "This is just a part of it all. We must establish ourbond," he reasoned, his voice steady but with an underlying dark certainty. "You remember what I told you about the mark? It's a symbol of our union and my claim over you. It’s the only comfort I have until our last Rite."
A sob caught in my throat as the reality of it all sunk in. The forced marriage. The complete surrender to him. The unbreakable future he had planned for me. He spread my legs apart and placed one hand between my shoulder blades, bringing his fingers back to my center and teasing my opening. With deliberate slowness, he pushed a finger inside me, then another, filling me up in ways that felt both foreign and familiar. The sensation of having something inside me while I bled both inside and out was a cruel paradox. He showed no mercy as he continued to slide his fingers in and out, finding a rhythm that sent shockwaves through my body.
I tried to resist, to fight back against the sensations, but my own body betrayed me. The more he moved, the more pleasure surged through me, overwhelming any sense of fear or disgust I had.
My heart pounded in unison with his movements, my arousal building despite my attempts to suppress it. As his fingers delved even deeper into me, I could feel my period mixing with my arousal, creating a messy mixture between my legs. He took notice and pushed himself even further inside, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me. I clenched my fists, trying to control the conflicting emotions raging within me.
"You see?" he purred, his voice low and seductive. "Even in your pain, your body responds to me."
His fingers suddenly vanished, leaving a trail of blood and wetness in their wake. I shuddered, feeling the warm liquid seeping down my legs. He positioned himself at my entrance, his cock poised to enter me, already hard again. His breath fannedagainst my neck as he whispered. "You’re going to take me deep and hard.”
He hesitated for a moment, relishing the power of the moment, before slowly thrusting forward. I let out a muffled cry, my body tensing and trembling as he filled me. I clenched my fists, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but knowing that it was slipping away. I was forced onto my tiptoes as he began to thrust.
His movements were calculated and precise, a well-choreographed dance that left me breathless. His hands guided my body up and down, leading me to the peak of pleasure. The rough stone altar pressed into my stomach as I arched up on my toes. The sound of my moans echoed through the dimly lit chapel, mixing with the scent of blood, and sweat. Every thrust brought a new wave of both pain and pleasure, fueling my reluctant arousal. I could feel myself losing touch with reality, consumed by whatever this was between us. Despite the intense pain and violation, there was also a sense of exhilaration, of being pushed to the brink of my limits. I fought against it, clawing at the unforgiving stone beneath me, but it was no use. His touch, his control over me, was absolute. As he gripped my shoulders and increased his pace, I could feel his dominance over me in every bruise he left behind. The pain only served to remind me that I was at his mercy.
"You belong to me," he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "Mine to take, mine to use however I please. Your body, your soul, they are all mine." My responding whimper only seemed to fuel his desire. "This altar is your throne," he continued, punctuating each word with a deep thrust that caused me to cry out. The metal chains that bound me bit into my skin further marking me. "You are my queen," he declared before claiming me once again with an intensity that left me panting.
My mind was a raging storm of conflicting emotions, teetering on the edge of something dark and unnamable.
I wanted to fight back, to scream at him to stop, but his dirty words slithered into my ear like poison, infecting me with a twisted desire that made my core clench and my hips writhe uncontrollably against his every thrust. He claimed ownership over me, whispering that he could do whatever he pleased with my body, how wet and tight my pussy felt around him. And in the deepest corners of my mind, I started to believe him.
With a rough jerk, he ripped off the blindfold. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he forced me to take him deeper, causing a sharp cry to escape from my lips as I lifted off the altar, the chains around my wrists taut and unforgiving. He turned my head to face him, his eyes filled with hunger and possession as he continued to ravage me. The room echoed with the sounds of our bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin, and my stifled moans that were a mix of both agony and ecstasy.
The chains dug into my flesh, adding an element of pain that only heightened the intense emotions swirling inside me. Fear mingled with rage and disgust, but beneath it all was a sickening craving for more.
He sensed the shift in me immediately. "You want this, don't you?" His question was punctuated by a brutal thrust that sent shockwaves coursing through me. I couldn't deny it any longer- there was a part of me that reveled in this twisted game of domination and submission. He pulled me forcefully against his body, his lips leaving a searing trail of heat along my neck. I couldn't help but push back against him.
"Fuck, just like that. You feel so good," he groaned, his voice laced with primal desire.
I moaned in response, barely able to form words as he tightened his grip on my hair and wrapped his other hand around my throat.
I found a twisted sense of power in my submission to him.
The more he took, the more I wanted. He continued to tighten his hold on me, his words dripping with malice. "I could take this from you too," he taunted. "Make you beg for your life while I continue to take what’s mine."
My fear and arousal mingled together into a potent cocktail as he kissed me, hitting a spot inside me that had fresh tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. His tongue invaded my mouth with a savage hunger. He released my hair but kept his grip on my throat as he reached around with his free hand, finding my clit and rubbing it vigorously, heightening the pleasure and pain coursing through me.
I couldn't help but whimper into his mouth as I clung to the altar for support. He deepened the kiss even further, grazing my bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away and exposing it to the frigid air. His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, making me moan uncontrollably as he squeezed my throat harder.
The head of his cock continued to hit that perfect spot inside me, causing my body to convulse with pleasure. His fingers on my clit intensified their movements, igniting a fiery inferno within me.
“Alex,” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper as the pressure inside me built to a dizzying climax. My vision blurred, my moans rising in volume, uncontrollable, raw. His grip tightened, possessive and unyielding. Through the haze of pleasure and pain, I blinked, trying to focus—only to find my gaze fixated on the statue above, looming in the dim light. The Devil. Cold, lifeless eyes stared down at me, almost mocking my helpless state, their eyes unblinking as if they were giving approval of our actions.