[???? Unholy (Orchestral Version) – Sam Smith ft. Kim Petras.]
• SOME SIXTY SECONDS BEFORE •
Rafel watched Cordelia push and enter in through the door of a suite. He followed in after her. She was at the window, pulling up the moon curtains, when he abruptly walked in. Cordelia turned sharply. She began to speak, but the tremor of fury on her lips shone as lust in her eyes.
"What are you doing, Your Grace? You can't be in here! My husband will take a bayonet to you, demon or not. He will kill—"
"QUIET!" Rafel thundered.
His voice was an animalistic growl. The door shut softly behind him. Cordelia's lips trembled into silence. She loved being tossed around. Ordered about. And punished when she didn't obey.
The man before her knew it. He was giving her exactly what she wanted. Cordelia breathed hard by the window.
As Rafel moved across from the shut door to her, his gait was the prowling of a wolf.
He stopped directly in front of her. He was a mountain. Strong. Sure. Hard. His eyes raked her clothes and the desire in the pits of his gilden eyes stoked hers.
"No one is dying here today, Countess—if you do exactly as I say. Okay?"
Cordelia nodded. "Okay."
She could barely keep herself from jumping onto his dark demonic body. Near seven feet of hard, ruthless male was a lot for an aroused woman. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Cordelia inhaled against his broad chest.
"How much time do we have?"
"Enough," Rafel rumbled in reply.
Cordelia lifted her hand to her fly. Rafel smacked it away. His eyes were unkind. Cruel even. Cordelia loved it utterly. She didn't want the sweet man.
She desired the strong, dominant, savage Alpha. Rafel was the embodiment of it all.
"You don't touch yourself, Countess. I do the undressing, got it!" He raged down to her.
He was the shadow of a frigate as he loomed over her. She gave a comely nod. And he smiled evilly.
"Now turn around!"
Cordelia shivered. "T–To the window? It's made of glass. Anyone can see us. Please fuck me anywhere else but here. I—"
Rafel roughly spun her and practically hurled her to the ledge. He was cautious though with his strength. Cordelia slammed into the glass panes. One of her hand caught the drapes. Her other hand grabbed at the windowsill.
Rafel enveloped her from behind and growled darkly in her ear.
"I take you wherever I want, Countess. If I want to fuck you against the wall, against the window, in your marital bed or in front of your fucking husband, I WILL. Now spread those fucking legs, you beautiful slut!"
Cordelia couldn't breathe. She couldn't move either. She was turned on so much she felt she would just orgasm if Rafel so much as licked her ear. She began moaning,
"Yes, fuck me. Fuck me please! Take this little slutty whore. Drill my pussy—I'm all yours. You make me so fucking wet. Feel.
. .feel how hot I am for you."
Cordelia bent and stretched by the window like a cat. She pushed out her fat ass and Rafel circled his hands to her front. He pulled softly at her zipper in case she was Commando under. Then he tore the damn trousers down to her waist. Cordelia was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her pert ass shook deliciously up against Rafel's groin.
"Fuckin' hell, woman. You want to kill me?"
He delivered twin slaps to her round cheeks. He pushed her face into the window's glass. The surface was cool against Cordelia's red face. She heard the sound of Rafel unbuckling his belt and it only made her push back more into him.
Behind the ornate door stood Brunhilda, white as the palette of the villa. She had arrived to her dear mother's bedroom some minutes ago. She had lifted her hand to the door, just about to knock and call out, 'Mom?' when she'd heard the sounds.
Muted voices. Harsh clapping. Encouraging moans. Love whispers. Dirty talk.
Brunhilda's hand had frozen over the door. She had leaned to her waist to peer in through the peephole. And she had remained glued to it ever since.
Brunhilda had watched Rafel fucking her mother against the window, sucking her breasts and taking her frantically in a place the eye of any steward wandering the grounds could catch. The position in which he took her was primal.
A raw dogging!
She had watched this beautiful man jam her mother flat on her tits and drill her ass with his penis. It wasn't the first time Brunhilda had seen a man's cock, but it was the first she had seen one that appealed to her.
He was glistening, gold, and proud. The kind of girth that could keep her intrigued for hours.
And now, Brunhilda, watching her mother on her knees, sucking in Rafel like her favourite pop tart gave the young daughter the urge for a taste. Right this moment, her mother was kissing and slobbering her face into and all over his balls. Traces of his seed marked her cheeks and hair.
She had never seen her mother in such a wild and unhinged passion. Not even with her father.
Watching silently behind the door, Brunhilda felt her lips parting to feel the texture of the same cock in her mouth and on her tongue. Her mother was so beautiful taking dick this way. Brunhilda felt her own arousal taking root, damp and tingling, between her legs.
She looked to the redhaired god before whom her mother knelt. And she thought,
'What is it that makes this man so endearing to all women? First, her friend Ravenna. And now, her own mother. Or was her mother first?'
Brunhilda knew she should turn away. Her mother's breasts and sex were on full frontal nudity. But she didn't. She watched dear mom Cordelia lick her lips and rise to drown herself in a long kiss with the Earl.
A trail of Rafel's cum was slipping down her inner thigh. It was dirty. But Brunhilda liked it.
She whimpered softly when her mother closed off her breasts under the cashmere cardigan and drew on her jean pants again. Rafel cleaned himself up too. And it gave Brunhilda dark pleasure in watching the two of them redress.
She had always being a voyeur. Why stop now?
Ten minutes later, Rafel pulled open the bedroom door of the Countess. He stepped out first. The hallway was empty. Not a trace of Brunhilda. He did find her though as he entered again into the dining hall. She was seated same as before beside her father at the table.
It was like she'd never left.
Sir Lucius Penderghast noticed his wife's hair was wet with a recent washing. Her neck was slightly flushed too, when she walked in some moments after his demonic visitor. He said nothing. He was of the mind that she had gone to the bathroom afterwards.
Poor, poor naïve Lucius.
"Thank the Elder Gods you're back! It looks like it's going to snow anytime soon. If you'll be leaving, you have to do so now. But please know, I offer my villa to host you for the rest of the day until the storm passes," was all Lucius said.
Rafel shook his head.
"Thank you kindly, Sir. But I must be on my way."
As Rafel said his final farewells to House Penderghast by the white doors of their ostentatious villa, he noticed Brunhilda was only half waving. She failed to meet his eyes too. The girl held a secret.
The Countess, Cordelia watched Rafel's black and silver silhouette meld into the shadows of a tree.
. . .SWOOSH!
And he was gone, in an instant.
She was yipping on the inside. She knew it would bring great sexual pleasure—one she could watch, to her bestfriend, Giselle if she told her of the sultry, hard banging by the window. Giselle would laugh, but tell her to repeat the tale—slowly this time, as she fingered herself to the imagination.
She had fogged up her window with a powerful demon. Or is it 'fucked' up?