Caelen placed the red-hot rod in front of her. The heat hissed between them.
"I'll let you choose which one you want," he said, smirking.
He held his cock in one hand. "This rod... or that rod. Which do you want inside you?"
Lyra stared in disbelief. Tears dropped from her eyes.
Caelen chuckled. "What's wrong? It's easy, isn't it? Just pick one. Or should I pick for you?"
He brought the red-hot rod close to her thigh.
"No, please!" she cried.
He paused. "Have you made up your mind?"
She nodded slowly, voice trembling. "I... I choose your rod."
Caelen cupped his ear. "I can't hear you."
She looked up, whispered, "Your rod..."
He raised an eyebrow. "You've got the wrong idea."
"I want your rod!" she suddenly screamed. "Give it to me, please!"
Caelen grinned. "Good girl."
He tossed the hot rod onto the bed. It hissed, burning the sheets.
Tears still flowed down her cheeks. "Please... don't do this..."
But Caelen didn't stop.
He held his cock and rubbed it around her soaked pussy. She sniffled as he slid it in slowly, her moan breaking through the silence.
"Arghhh..."
Caelen smiled, thrusting in and out slowly, feeling her tightness around him. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. Wetness coated his cock.
Lyra moaned softly.
He gripped her waist and thrust harder. Their bodies collided, shaking the bed. He pulled her hair as he picked up speed.
She looked up at the ceiling, moaning while he took her from behind.
He paused, then lifted her into the air, spreading her legs apart. She clung to his shoulders as he fucked her midair.
His thrusts got deeper. Her grip tightened. Their bodies dripped with sweat.
He laid her down, spread her legs, and dipped his tongue into her pussy. She moaned, holding his head as her eyes closed.
He licked her slowly. She moved her hips, and her orgasm splashed like rain. He slapped her pussy with the wetness, rubbing her.
Then he slid a finger in, moving it in and out. She squeezed her breasts as her moans got louder.
"Arghhhh—" she screamed.
His hand moved faster, and more liquid poured out. Her legs shook uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back.
Caelen rubbed her again, then slid his cock in and moved slowly, holding one breast as she moaned and held the other.
He leaned down, sucking her nipple, biting gently. She clung to him, trembling as he kept thrusting.
He lay on the ground and she crawled to him, taking his cock into her mouth, sucking and stroking. She looked up and smiled.
He grabbed her head and pushed deeper until she gagged. When he let go, she pulled back with strings of saliva hanging.
She rubbed the spit along his shaft, then sucked again.
Then she sat on it, positioning him at her entrance and moaning as he slid inside.
Caelen held her waist as she rode him slowly. Her grip tightened as she leaned in, riding harder.
He lifted his leg and wrapped his arms around her, thrusting upward. She screamed.
"Arghhhh... fuck! Give it to me!"
He went faster, fucking her deep until he slipped out. She grabbed him and guided it back in, grinding against him.
"Faster... faster! Give it to me!" she cried.
Caelen gave it to her — full speed — and her orgasm hit again, splashing even with his cock still inside her.
She moaned as he slowed down. Then she got off, his cock standing tall.
She pressed her plump breasts together and rubbed them along his shaft, up and down.
"Arghhh... that's more like it," he groaned.
She leaned down, sucked the tip while rubbing with her breasts. Her pace quickened. His veins throbbed.
He stood up, placed his cock on her face, and licked it from underneath.
"You want it?" he asked.
"Yes..." she whispered.
"Say it."
"I'm a slut."
He smiled. "That's good."
He pushed his cock into her mouth, thrusting deep.
She gagged but held on, sucking harder. He groaned.
His hot seed spilled into her mouth. She pulled back, licking the tip, then sucked one last time before letting go.
Caelen leaned back, his breathing calm… controlled. The room was quiet now, except for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth.
Lyra lay on the bed — naked, breathless, her body trembling in the aftermath of pain and pleasure so entangled that she could no longer tell the difference. Her eyes were distant, yet locked on him with a strange mix of fear, shame… and submission.
Caelen rose from the edge of the bed slowly, his steps silent as a shadow. His eyes glowed faintly as he moved closer, then sat beside her. He reached out with one hand, gently running his fingers across her flushed face. Her skin twitched beneath his touch.
He smiled.
Soft. Cold. Inevitable.
"Pleasure… is control," he whispered. "It doesn't matter where it comes from… a god… a monster… or a devil like me. It breaks pride. Drowns screams. And once it takes root… nothing else matters."
He leaned in closer, his eyes studying her expression — the tear-streaked cheeks, the parted lips, the way her breathing trembled.
He cupped her chin gently, and in that devil's voice, calm like still water hiding a whirlpool, he said to himself—almost a whisper, almost a prayer.
"Isn't that right, Lyra?"
And Lyra… said nothing.
She didn't need to.
The silence was already her answer.
The Devil's answer.
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