Crave (3 page)

“You will not desecrate her soul.”

Asmodeus showed his amusement, his laughter drowning out the pitiful voice of the priest, who now shielded his intended with his equally pitiful body.

“Father, she belongs to me. I have it in writing. I am the devil, the worst of the worst, the lord of all darkness, the king of primeval lust.”

“You will not have her. I swear by almighty God, you will not have her.”

“Oh, you poor man, Father. Have you not tasted the sin of a woman, never thought of devouring a female’s delicious cunt? Oh, but you have dreamt it.”

Asmodeus closed in on the priest and Elizabeth behind him.

“My sweet Elizabeth.”

He watched her struggle, her brave attempt to run but she was frozen to the spot, unable to move. Those pretty lips grimaced, her fingertips almost purple as she struggled to pull away.

“Our priest has craved for the flesh, Elizabeth. He sleeps in his cell at night and dreams of corruption of a voluptuous nun. Sister Margaret, come to me.”

The nun in the confessional came running, her habit in place once more.

“The good Father Thomas here wants you, sister. Why don’t you relieve him of his cravings? Take out his willing cock and suck it for him, until it is good and hard.”

The devil touched the priest on the shoulder and lifted him a few inches off the ground before setting him down on a pew. The willing Sister Margaret kneeled at his side and began to unzip him.

“Ah, the sweetness of desire. It can make any human lose all senses. Am I right, Elizabeth?”

He had made it so her lips were sealed. Touching her shoulder, he felt her anger. The fight in her ran through his own flesh and he felt warm inside. Circling behind her, he sniffed her scent.

“Divine. Do you feel the passion of others affecting you? I feel you; your skin warms and your nerves tingle. I feel the wetness, the sweat running down your back, down the back of your thighs and in the very crack of your ass. Your body lies to your true desires.”

Sweet Sister Margaret had Thomas’s cock in her hand. The devil grinned as she squeezed and tugged at it, making it hard and wet at the tip. Thomas sighed and his moans told the truth as her sweet lips caressed the purple crown.

“Oh God!”

“Ah yes, we all say his name when a whore nun sucks our dick. Your skin tightens, Elizabeth. Your body craves the desire; you want what the nun has, that cock, sliding deep in her mouth.”

The devil raised his evil hand a couple of inches from Elizabeth’s chest. He moved his fingers, manipulating her breasts in the air, pressing, caressing, pinching her nipples in her eager mind. He could feel her struggle. Her eyes glared at him, yet her body cried out for him, needed to be touched, to be taken.

“Feel it, how your breasts rise and fall, how your nipples grow hard like pebbles and push against the cloth. Your pretty cunt is dripping wet. Juices flow from it and tickle your folds like cold sweat in an even colder place. Your muscles clench and release. You want it.”

Elizabeth’s eyes read like an open book. Her body squirmed for him as he sat next to the nun in the pew before her.

Sister Margaret had such talent. The devil lifted her habit and pushed it high, exposing curves and flesh created for sin. Kneeling behind her, he raised her pretty ass and parted her buttocks. She sucked on Thomas like a prostitute of ill repute. The devil slid his tongue up her crack and tasted her. Her moans affirmed her pleasure.

“Please, my Lord, fuck your whore.”

“Ah, such wanton sin from God’s own bitch.” Slipping his tongue out once more, he savored her sweet cunt, lapping at it, tugging at the dripping labia. When he was satisfied, he pulled back. “I think, sister, Father Thomas is more deserving. Sit on him and ride him until he fills you with his salty seed.”

Margaret wriggled and stood, hoisting her habit high over her head until she wore only her crucifix.

Asmodeus laughed. He rose and stood on the pew close to Thomas, who now held Margaret by the waist. She bounced on him, needing the sex as much as he did. She rode him hard, her breasts mesmerizing as they moved with beautiful fluidity against the priest’s chest. The devil ran his hand down her back, down the sweet curve of her ass and then fingered her tight anus.

Margaret moaned in delight as her Lord unleashed his lust. His zipper slid down on its own and her hand slipped inside, pulling out the devil’s cock.

“Oh yes, God loves dick. Stroke it, put it in your mouth.”

Margaret did as she was told, fucking her priest while sucking her lord.

The devil had no ordinary phallus. It was huge and ridged with a swollen crown even males would envy. Margaret served him well, taking it almost whole down her throat.

“Your body desires lust, Elizabeth.” He could feel it, as if they were one, linked together by centuries of long-dead souls. He wanted her, just as he had wanted her female ancestors before her, but he wanted her more. Elizabeth had tremendous desire but what really tempted him was her true nature, her strong will, the need to fight him and win, to be free. Turning to look at her, he saw that her eyes were filled with disgust, yet her body needed every ounce of the sexual tang that filled the great hall. He reached and touched her hair. Soft like silk, it had a tinge of dampness as the sweat caressed her brow and spread through the tender locks.

“Look at me, Elizabeth. See how Margaret sucks on my dick. You can’t deny how your body reacts. You want it, and you crave it. You want to taste, to suck it, to feel the hard blood-filled flesh against your lips and throat. Your pussy clenches at the very idea of it between your thighs, rubbing along the ridge of your swollen mounds, before I ease it in that sweet crevice, deep in your pink slit. You want to feel it stretch you as my hands slide over your skin and grip you. You crave me, my hard shaft sliding deep inside you, pounding and pumping you until I shoot my devil’s seed into your needy womb.”

Laughter and sex-derived moans filled the halls as he felt Elizabeth’s struggle with his demonic grip. She fell away, her fist clenched at her sides as she found her body hers once more. Asmodeus winked at her as she ran.

––––––––

P
anic.

It thrummed through her body like a living thing. Elizabeth’s heart punched at her chest to the point of aching. Everything she thought she believed was a lie. She released a violent sob as she rounded a corner and slammed into Mother Superior Theresa.

“My dear, good gracious, what is happening? Why are you sweating and running?” The sister reached for Elizabeth and she released a squeal and tried to run back.

Strong arms grabbed onto her wrist. Elizabeth turned around quickly and tried to shove away from the woman. The heat of her salty tears made her cheeks itch only intensifying the panic.

“Please,” she pleaded with the woman on a sob. “He’s come for me. He is here. Oh, God, I thought I was safe. Oh, my God.”

Elizabeth scrubbed a hand over her face. She shook her head, attempting to clear the foggy thoughts that collided together.

Satan.

Here.

Not safe.

Must run.

She rounded on the woman and shoved the sister against the stone walls. The beautiful face looked back at her with wide, frightened eyes.

“Of all the blessed beings, Ms. Cromwell, please, you must calm. I cannot help you if you do not calm for me.”

Trying to make a firm attempt at calming her frayed nerves, Elizabeth pressed her palm against her stomach. Now that she had time to reflect on the moment, her swollen sex seemed to itch and she pressed her legs together tight. She felt bile rise to the surface and she heaved as she bent at the waist and let out the contents of her stomach in the corner of the convent hallway. A pink blush flushed her facial features as she turned back to the pretty Mother Superior.

They are all good looking. Every single fucking one of them look like fucking models.

Something isn’t right here.

The sister reached for her again.

She jerked her hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” Elizabeth hissed.

Theresa righted her posture and gazed down at Elizabeth with a scolding expression.

“Really, child, all in a huff, vomiting in the halls, sweat all over your body—I need you to tell me what has happened.”

“Satan, the man, the one you are supposed to be keeping me safe from? He’s here. He has come for me!”

Elizabeth, trying to display a sudden posture of bravery she didn’t quite feel, moved in on the sister.

“How is that even possible? This is supposed to be a house of God. How the hell did he get in here?”

“Language, Ms. Cromwell!” Theresa scolded. “You watch your mouth in these halls. Now, if you would calm down and come with me, I will show you that nothing is amiss in this house of God.”

The panic started to return. Elizabeth’s anxiety spiked and she felt a very raw survival instinct that sank all the way down to her toes. The arousal all but forgotten, she was ready to fight now. She would fight. For every woman that wasn’t strong enough before—she wouldn’t be taken and she would end this bullshit.

“NO! I will not go back in there. The priest and the other sister were─” She paused. Elizabeth brushed her sweaty palms over her jeans and felt the heat rise to her cheeks once more. “They were fornicating in your oh-so-Godly house. Explain that to me, SISTER!”

She inflected the last word. The mother superior didn’t startle once at her admission.

How—odd.

Elizabeth started to go on high alert. Why wouldn’t something like people fucking in the church startle a damned woman of the cloth?

She felt those strong fingers digging into her upper arms. A whimper escaped as she tried to pull away, but the oddly iron grip kept her in place.

“Look at me now, young lady,” Theresa demanded.

Startled by the motherly demand, she pinned her gaze with the mother superior’s. The woman gave her a hard shake as she started to explain.

“The devil can corrupt your mind no matter where you rest. This was his way of trying to draw you out into the world where his minions play without boundaries. Any one of them could be lying in wait to grab you and bring you to him. If you leave─” Theresa paused. She released Elizabeth’s arms and took a step back, smoothing her hand down the front of her habit. “Then he will win and you will be lost to the world forever.”

Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her forehead and let out a sound of frustration. It made so much sense and yet none at all.

You can’t trust anyone, not even the sisters. They can be corrupted just as easy as anyone on the street. After all, they are only human.

The wise words of Jared came at her.

She was playing a horrible game. A game that if she lost she was so totally fucked. Trying to put on a brave face, she smiled at the sister. The action felt painful, but seemed to ease the sister as her body calmed and the tension left her shoulders.

“Now, have we had enough of this silliness? Come. Let us see to the priest, He will ease your mind.” The sister lightly nudged her towards the now closed double doors.

Elizabeth dug in her heels. Her heart picked up pace once more. The slamming made it hard to breathe as the uncomfortably strong woman gave her a quick shove. Her hands came up as Elizabeth stumbled into the door and they came open with a light whoosh. Elizabeth reeled back into the sister as she looked around at the calm scene.

Her eyes fluttered open and shut and she saw flashes of the nun taking it from the young, handsome priest. The devil’s cock slid down the nun’s throat and a fresh wave of heat bloomed between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, but that only made it worse. The swollen lips tingled and she stumbled forward on another nudge from the sister at her back.

The mother superior cleared her throat and she watched as the priest turned his attentions from setting up communion to her shaking form in the doorway.

“My goodness. What has happened to you, Ms. Cromwell? Are you hurt? You look as if you have seen a ghost.” The priest made his way down the few steps and quickly towards her.

Elizabeth felt the warm embrace of his strong arms and fell into the comforting act. She closed her eyes tight, a sob escaping as she tried to speak.

“I thought─” She paused.

The broken sound of her voice seemed to be amplified in her own ears. She’d been so strong for so long that it felt good to break. Everyone needed to break from time to time. Even if it meant the devil got in a little closer.

“She said he came to her. Ms. Cromwell crashed into me in the halls in hysterics, claiming she saw you both debauched and at the control of HIM.” The mother superior’s firm voice belied her model-like looks.

Mother Superior Theresa, ever the strict school ma’am, nodded towards Sister Margaret setting up hymnals in the pews.

“I’m sorry, mother. We were in no such state. That means─”

“He got in.”

Elizabeth’s whole body froze and she reared back away from the comfort of the arms around her. They made an attempt at restraining her as she collided with the pews and they were sent screeching against the stone flooring.

“GET IT! It’s him! Please! Stop! Don’t you dare come any fucking closer!” she warned.

The devil swaggered towards her. A smug smirk decorated his ridiculously handsome face as she came to stand next to the sisters and the priest.

“Please, Elizabeth. This is Father Samuel. He is not the man who searches for you. Why would we let him in a house of God? Please child, he is here to help. Come.”

Elizabeth shook her head. Her fear melted away into determination as she righted her spine and stood tall in the face of her imminent capture.

“I’m not calming down. I’m not going with him. None of you can make me.”

“Ms.─”

Father Samuel held up a hand towards Theresa.

“Please, let me. I understand her fear.” The dark glimmer in his gaze pinned her to the spot.

Unlike before, she could move if she wanted. The thing was, she didn’t want to. His eyes willed her to listen to him and she slowly lowered herself to sit.