My Demon Saint by R. G. Alexander

rope. “What the hell are you doing?”
    “We are tying you up, Ume. Right now just your wrists, we’ll see about what comes later.”
    “Sinner?”
    He smiled, but there was a strange spark in his eyes. “Let go, Ume. Trust me.”
    She already did. It scared her how much.

    She trusted him. Why did that knowledge scare him? Wasn’t it exactly what he wanted? The problem was, Saint didn’t trust himself.
    Watching Manx bind her wrists already had the demon in him raging to be set free. To take. To fuck. But Saint wanted more than that. He wanted to give her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined. So much that when she finally realized who and what he was, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would matter but this.
    While he still had some semblance of control he connected to his partner in crime. Like opening a private chatroom in his brain that only they could see.

    “I can’t share her the way we have the others.”

    Manx responded instantly.

    “I had that feeling. You know I’ve always been a breast man…”

    Saint nodded sharply. He would be the one to give her all that mattered. The pleasurable pain, the sweet sting that he knew instinctively she would love. It would surprise her how much.
    His skin was burning, every muscle stretched tight, determined to hold on to the control he knew he’d need for this. Not just touching her. But watching her respond to someone else. It would be torture.
    He couldn’t wait.
    He pulled her long, dark hair over one shoulder to whisper in her ear. “Have you ever been spanked, Ume?”
    She made a noise that sounded decidedly like a squeak, and he laughed. “I’ll take that as a no. It surprises me. A bad girl like you. Wild and bold. It surprises me that no one has tried.”
    He flexed his muscles and gripped the fabric covering her with his bare hands, making short work of its removal. By the time all but one piece was gone, Ume was shaking.
    “Oh my God.”
    Saint ground his jaw together as he removed that blasted thong, leaving her bare and open to their view. “Not even close, love.”
    He saw Manx swallow hard, taking in her character’s unbelievable proportions. He gripped his tattooed cock in his fist, and Saint understood exactly how he felt.
    Saint grabbed the red bag and slid it in front of her, nodding in satisfaction when it stood at hip level. Perfect.
    “Look at Manx, Ume. See how hungry he is. For you. You like the way he looks at you. Don’t bother to deny it.”
    Ume shook her head absently. “I won’t. I mean, I do. I like it.”
    “Smart girl. Any other answer and I wouldn’t have done this.” Saint bent her over the bag, the rope giving just enough to allow for the movement.
    “Fuck.” Manx’s look of helpless joy was almost comical as he watched her breasts jiggle and sway.
    Saint’s teeth would be ground to powder at this rate. Maybe he should have created a breast-reduction stall. A potion. Something she would believe. But then, he’d been enjoying the view too much to even consider it. He knew what Ume really looked like. Thought her body was perfection, just the way it was.
    But those breasts she’d given herself were too delicious to resist.
    Saint circled her, smiling into her eyes before disappearing behind her again. “Spread your legs, Ume.”
    She hesitated, and Saint pounced. He pressed his thigh between hers and opened her legs wide. So wide she lost her footing, and all her weight was balancing on the bag. “That’s it. Oh, that’s beautiful. You okay?”
    He heard the quaver in her voice. The excitement she couldn’t quite conceal. “I think so.”
    “You think so?” He let his fingertips glide down her back to her tails, which were stiff with expectation. He gripped all three in his hand and tugged lightly.
    “Oh! Yes . Yes, I’m okay.”
    He smiled, letting her go before taking off his clothes. She was ready.

    She couldn’t think. Could hardly breathe. She wanted to scream at them to do something. Anything.