Conjure: A Paranormal Erotic Horror, page 9
Reaching between my legs, I slide my fingers through my wetness. I’m soaked. Dominic wreaked havoc on my body with his expert touch.
I lie back down on my front, trying to recreate the scene from minutes earlier with my face buried in the pillow. My muffled moans ring out in the silence as I rub my clit and grind my hips. But I can’t recreate his touch, no matter how deep I press my face into the damp fabric or how hard I push down on my sensitive clit. Even my best attempts lack the sensation of helplessness and the bite of pain his fingers evoked—
My thoughts come to a grinding halt when the mattress shifts behind me. I pause, barely daring to breathe. “Dominic?”
An icy chill in the air accompanies his punishing fingers. He digs them into my hips and yanks me up on my knees. Did he change his mind and return to finish what he started? My heart soars even as I fight the urge to beg him to fuck me. I need him inside me.
I try to look at him over my shoulder, but he shoves my head back into the pillow and rams his cock inside me in one go. I cry out as my pussy clamps down on his throbbing length. Fuck, he feels so damn good. Nothing could have prepared me for how big he is. I can barely fit him, but he allows me no time to adjust. He pulls back out to the tip, then thrusts back in, and delicious pain spreads like wildfire. He fucks like an animal, dirty and hard—so hard I’m unsure if he’s trying to fuck me to death, but I love every second.
“Fuck, Dominic,” I whimper, the sound muffled as I push back against him. My eyes roll back at the feel of his thick cock rubbing against my rippling inner walls while mindless moans and mewls escape my chest. I sound like I’m starring in a cheap porno. I’m not even embarrassed anymore. Not when he fucks me this good.
My tits bob wildly as my sensitive, pebbled nipples rub against the bed. The extra friction, combined with another hard slap on my ass, has me exploding around his dick with a scream.
I’m still floating in a sea of bliss when a distorted voice that isn’t Dominic’s snarls, “Such a good little whore.”
I freeze and terror locks me in place as strings of cum rain over my ass and back. Spinning around, I swing my gaze around the empty room. There’s no one here. Just me, my erratic heartbeat, and the fucking doll propped at the end of my bed.
As I blink at the beady eyes and the crack in the cheek, shivers slither over my skin. I skim my hand over my ass but find no semen. My skin is dry. With a gulp, I look at the doll. And then I scratch my arm, unable to shake the terror crawling under my skin. A burning, sharp pain anchors me as my jagged nails claw a path through my skin, over and over and fucking over.
I scramble forward and snatch the doll, only to realize that my shorts are halfway down my legs. With a quick tug, I pull them back up and storm out of my room, racing downstairs to toss the doll in the trash can. My heart pounds powerfully as I stare at the kitchen cupboard beneath the sink—
Something outside the window catches my eye—a mysterious man I’ve seen a lot recently. I watch him enter the woods with the axe on his shoulder and a determined look on his face.
Where is he going? Intrigue wins out.
I don’t even think as I rush into the hallway to put on my shoes before dashing outside. The heat is pressing from all angles and my rubber soles thunder across the overgrown yard.
Silence sweeps in as I enter the trees, suffocating even the faintest sounds. It’s a peaceful feeling, and I let my fingers graze the rough bark and the slimy mushrooms that grow on the trunks.
Venturing deeper into the woods, I cross a small stream of water when I hear his axe up ahead. Excitement curls my lips as I trudge forward, ducking beneath branches and moving others out of the way until I emerge into the clearing.
Where is he?
A frown mars my forehead. I scan the stacked pieces of chopped wood and the axe propped against the stump. Fragile sticks break underfoot and pinecones sink into the soft earth when I walk forward.
I stop in front of the waist-high stump and trail my fingers over the wood block on top, noting each ridge and groove. Curious, I pick up the axe, studying an interesting carved symbol on the handle as I feel its weight in my hand. It’s much heavier than I thought, and I struggle to lift it over my head. When I swing it down, I miss the wood block. The blade gets lodged. It’s proving even more difficult to yank it out. I try three times before it finally gives—
“I thought I told you not to wander into the woods.” His heat at my back makes my breath catch. He places his big hand over mine on the handle and says, “Put one hand here and the other up here. It will improve your aim.”
Barely able to breathe, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t, and loving the thrill, I let him show me how to chop correctly. I swallow down my nerves, acutely aware of how little effort he required to chop the piece in half.
“Now,” he whispers in my ear, his breath teasing the curve of my neck, “what will it take for you to listen to my warning about these woods?”
I still haven’t recovered from Dominic’s treatment this morning. Something about this compromising position with a stranger has heat settling low in my core. I want him to bend me over the stump and fuck me with the axe’s handle. Where are these thoughts coming from? I’m not this promiscuous.
“Dangers lurk in these woods, ma’am.”
“That sounds like a threat,” I state bravely.
He chuckles, replying, “Hear that?”
The wind moves through the canopy of shifting leaves overhead, like a haunted lullaby or a song of woes.
“Hear how it whispers?” His lips brush the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “That’s when you need to run.”
A whimper threatens to slip from my lips.
He wraps his hand around my throat. “When you hear its whispers travel through the rustling leaves, you run as fast as you can. You hear me? Don’t look back.”
My clit pulses almost painfully as my grip slips on the axe. He takes it from my hands and props it against the stump. “Good girl,” he praises, straightening back up. His warm lips find my ear again, and his soft breath caresses my skin. “Now, run.”
I don’t hesitate. Every nerve ending in my body screams at me to flee.
So I do.
I run like my fucking life depends on it.
ELEVEN
CAMRYN
“I’m telling you, we shouldn’t be here,” Lily says, ever the worrier, as we look around the crowded living room. It was Brittany’s idea to drag us all to a party, and now we’re here, looking out of place in a stranger’s home.
“They’re all too drunk to pay us any attention,” Gwen says, pointing at a girl in a short skirt who walks past.
Brittany sways her hips in time to the beat on her way to the kitchen. We follow behind, trying our best to go unnoticed.
Cluttered countertops greet us, with countless half-empty bottles littering the room. Plastic cups roll across the floor as we gather around the island. Benny—dressed in a black hoodie—adjusts his backward cap, then rubs his hands together in anticipation while Aron pours us each a shot. He hands them out, winking at me with a playful gleam in his eye, and downs his in one go.
I mirror him, swallowing the too-sweet liquid, which burns a path down my throat.
“That’s disgusting,” Lily mutters, screwing her face up.
“Really? I thought it tasted of strawberries.” Brittany blows a strand of pink hair away from her lips and scans the room.
Outside, hollers ring out as the footballers take turns cannonballing into the infinity pool.
“Why are we here again?” I ask.
Gwen rolls her eyes, then slides the bottle toward her and pours a second shot. “Our delusional friend, Benny, thinks he stands a shot with Erica, the cheer captain, remember?”
The man in question accepts her shot with a playful smile. “Now that we have survived the séance, which, let’s face it, was freaky as fuck, and no crazy demon is coming after us, I have learned a thing or two about life.”
“Let’s hear it, then.” Gwen hands me a shot, and I eye the pink liquid.
Benny tosses his back, then discards the shot glass over his shoulder. “Well, life is short. We need to seize opportunities as they come our way and go after what we want.”
“Aren’t you the philosophical man all of a sudden?” Brittany teases, sliding his backward cap around.
He fixes it and hands her a shot glass. “It’s your turn. Don’t bow out on us.”
Aron’s fingers ghost my lower back, and I pretend I don’t notice as I lock eyes with none other than Dominic over by the staircase. A blonde girl hangs off his arm, pushing her tits against him while his eyes drill holes into my head.
Of course, he’s here. Where else would he be on a Friday night?
“Give me that.” I grab the bottle, pour my third shot, and swallow it down. I’ll need all the liquid courage I can get to face him after he’s glared daggers at me for days.
He still sleeps on my floor, though.
I level him with a glare of my own as I pour another shot.
Aron clears his throat, subtly taking the bottle from me and placing it back on the table. But he doesn’t stop me from taking my fourth shot.
“Wow,” Gwen says, her voice thick with amusement. “Our girl here is on a mission to get drunk.”
Lily watches me warily, but I’m not in the mood for pity tonight. My feelings are all over the place. I want to kiss my stepbrother one minute, then slap him the next. Seeing him with her, the way she presses up against him, churns my stomach.
Soft fingers graze the exposed skin at my lower back where my tank top meets my shorts. Aron whispers in my ear, “Are you okay?”
I stare at my stepbrother in the eye. “I’m good.”
I can see him tense from here, and fuck if it doesn’t arouse me.
“So, about the séance,” Gwen says, but Aron shakes his head.
“We agreed not to talk about it. Nothing has happened since.”
Gwen looks at me, her eyes softening. “Are you sure everything is okay? That house—”
“I’m fine,” I bite out, escaping Aron’s featherlight touch. “I need the toilet.”
Weaving through the crowds, I try to walk straight, but the room tilts on its axis. I’ve had too much to drink, and now everything is a blur.
I feel Dominic’s hard eyes on me as I make my way up the stairs, surprised I don’t trip and break my back in a spectacular fall.
When I reach the landing, a hiccup slips from my lips. I blink to clear the haze before looking left and right, the carpeted hallway stretching out on either side.
I’m screwed.
I laugh under my breath, amused by my own predicament. And then I take a left, bumping into the wall and almost knocking a picture frame off its hook. More drunken laughter bubbles up, but then a warm hand clamps down over my mouth and hauls me into the nearest bedroom.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dominic sneers as he slams me up against the door.
A surprised breath escapes me, the sound of my yelp muffled beneath his hand. There are two of him. Since when did he get another twin?
His heated exhale whooshes out of him before he hauls me away from the door and tosses me onto the bed. My body bounces, and I shriek with laughter. Dominic, however, doesn’t find any of this funny.
He grabs hold of my ankle and pulls me down the mattress. Then he hooks his fingers in my shorts and slides them roughly down my legs. “Do you know how fucking angry it makes me seeing that guy, Aron, all over you, like a sniffing dog.” Throwing my shorts on the floor, he slaps my thighs apart. “I’m gonna wring his fucking neck right after I make you come on my tongue.”
I’m already writhing as he drops to his knees and puts my legs on his broad shoulders. Scrunching the flowery bedspread in my fists, I can’t stop giggling, not at all used to alcohol.
Dominic pulls my panties aside and smacks my pussy so hard, pain bursts like pinpricks all over my sensitive folds. “Don’t piss me off again, Camryn.”
“But it’s so much fun,” I slur, reaching for his soft hair, but he slaps my fingers away and traps my wrists with one hand over my head. I sigh contentedly as he leans above me, his dark hair falling over his brow. I love him like this, devouring me with his eyes. I can’t believe this is happening.
“Do you have any idea how fucking angry I am with you?”
“You’re always angry.”
“Shut up,” he snarls, baring his incisor teeth as he releases my wrists to wrap his long fingers around my throat. “Move your hands, and I stop.”
My pussy pulses at the feel of his grip on my throat—the sheer dominance in his gaze.
“You want to get drunk and be a brat, little sister? You think it’s fun to play games?” He releases my throat and smacks my face with enough force behind his blow to stun me. I moan shamelessly. “You like that, huh?” His palm connects with my cheek again and he grips my chin. “This isn’t a reward.”
Chest heaving, I stare up at the ceiling as he bites my thigh hard enough to elicit a pained cry.
He pries my legs open with punishing fingers, and his devilish mouth descends like a tsunami, wreaking havoc on my self-control. My hips shoot off the bed, and I moan at the feel of his warm tongue sliding over my soaked pussy.
“Don’t move,” he growls against my clit, his lips driving me crazy. “If you come, I’ll choke you with my dick until you pass out.”
His tongue circles my opening, teasing just enough to leave me begging for more, and then he rams it inside me, tongue-fucking me until I can barely catch my breath.
The intense pleasure slowly builds until I’m so close to coming that I’m shaking and shivering despite my best attempts to stay off the edge.
I know he told me to stay still, but it’s impossible. I’m fucking his face with my pussy and grinding my hips almost desperately as he peppers bites on my thighs, marking me with his sharp teeth. His dark eyes stay locked on mine, daring me to come, daring me to piss him off. Daring me to defy him.
A cold sweat breaks out on my skin, and just as I’m about to let go, he flips me onto my front.
He guides me onto my knees, spreading my cheeks apart with his rough fingers. Anticipation swells in my chest as a chill of cold air kisses my back hole and swollen slit. I quiver as I bury my head in the pillow. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I wouldn’t feel this comfortable being so exposed if it weren’t for the alcohol swimming through my veins.
“I’m going to fuck these holes one day,” he breathes, leaning in to drag his tongue from my throbbing clit to my anus. He circles my exit, probing me with the tip, and then proceeds to rim me senseless until my eyes roll back and my thighs tremble.
“Please,” I whimper, the sound muffled in the pillow. “Please, let me come.”
“Did you or did you not let your friend touch you in the kitchen?”
“Touch me?” My words come out garbled as he laps up my juices with a slow swipe of his tongue before swirling it around my entrance until tears soak the pillow. I need to come. I need it so fucking bad.
“He had his hand on your back, did he not?”
My choked sob has him chuckling against my soaked cunt. “Please, Dominic.”
“Are you going to drink my cum like a good whore? Choke on my dick and thank me for it?”
“Yes, p-please, just…please.”
“Beg me for it.”
“Please make me come. Please!”
Dominic flops me over onto my back before he stands up and unbuckles his belt to free his massive cock. He grabs hold of my arm, hauling me to my knees, then fists a handful of hair at the nape of my neck as he jerks his dick in front of my face. “You don’t touch me, get it?”
Mesmerized by his veiny dick, I lick my lips. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he won’t let me touch him, but I lose all train of thought when a bead of precum seeps from the head.
“Get it?” His grip on my hair tightens until it hurts.
“Yes,” I reply, looking up at him. He yanks me back and orders me to open my mouth. I stick my tongue out, my scalp prickling with pain while he beats his dick over my face.
“You want this? You want my dick in your pretty mouth?”
When I try to nod, his grip on my hair won’t let me. The sharp bite of pain has tears pricking my eyes, but it’s of the good kind.
“Let Aron touch you again, and I’ll kill him. I don’t give a shit how pretty you look begging for my cock, or how needy you are. No one gets to touch you except for me.”
Why is it that the more he degrades me, the more aroused I get? Why do I love the vile words spilling from his mouth while he beats his dick as though he wants to rip it off? Why do I respond to this unhinged side of him?
“Tell me you want it. Tell me you want my cum.”
“I want your cum, Dom.”
His eyes darken at the nickname, his fingers twitching in my tangled hair.
“Can I taste your cock now?” I ask as more precum seeps from the crown.
His harsh breaths and the sound of slapping skin play a symphony to the desire inside me. I’m coming undone as he pauses to rub his thick cock across my cheeks and over my parted lips. I try to taste him, but he pulls me away, back to jerking his cock. “You don’t get to taste or touch me.”
I almost cry at his declaration, prepared to beg, but before I can open my mouth to speak, cum erupts on my face. I open my mouth just in time to catch a few precious squirts. Dominic grunts, his fingers loosening on my hair before they tighten again. He keeps me out of reach, panting as he slows his movements.
I stare up at him through cum covered lashes and make a show of licking him off my lips, still drunk enough to feel brave in the face of the monster residing behind that hard stare.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and his gaze darkens, like storm clouds gathering over a valley. He bends down to collect my shorts, using them to wipe my face before tossing them at me. “Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”
