Chapter Ten- Under The table Sins Part four

I forgot how to breathe, he looked like he had just tasted the most delicious, decadent thing in the world, yet he maintained this sternness in his eyes which promised me that I was going to face the consequences of my actions later.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

After I had enclosed his hand between my thighs, he had strongly groaned out his disapproval and his grip on my neck tightened. His actions served as a warning, his silence was all that was necessary to pass on the correct message. With his lips to my ear, he keeps on groaning like a brute and I do not know how that would be possible, but it feels like his meat keeps hardening and enlarging further. Daddy Lucifer did not breathe a single word, he did not order me to spread my thighs open, neither did he make any effort to move his hand and motivate me to do so. Closing my thighs was not the best idea, his skin must be conducting all of my internal heat and his fingers must be coated with the sleek juices pooling onto my thin panties.

He knows that I want him and that is the one thing I was keen on never allowing him to be aware of or to even assume.

I knew that I was going to be punished in a certain way, but for the relationship I had with my mother and not to deviate from my moral standpoint, I jerked my shoulders and successfully pulled away from him and took some steps forward.

My heart was beating in my ears and I could feel my vagina flutter, throb like an aching burn and the feel of his large hand on my neck still lingered. I stood still, trying to place significance to the moisture between my thighs and endeavoring not to allow my breathing to be audible. A hand of mine held onto the countertop and I was nearly trembling uncontrollably at the thought of him flinging me over his shoulder, ripping my panties off and punishing me for my defiance. The Devil has never ever taken no for an answer and though not spoken, my actions said the insulting word. He was right behind me and I had no idea of his state of mind, if he was in one of his frighteningly bloodthirsty mood or not and not knowing what his thoughts were horrified me.

But I have a conscience.

The Devil knows that this is wrong as well, but the Beast of Hell does not have a conscience, neither does he possess a heart to care about anyone's feelings. He cannot be constrained by guilt, he cares not about my mother's feelings and will not hesitate to hurt her as long as in the end he gets what he wants.

Which is me… but I am nothing special without my status: as a maiden. I cannot help but think that he is chiefly interested in my virginity.

I probably would have let him fuck me as he pleases if he was not the Devil, if he was not my step- father.

What is wrong with me?

Being sexually attracted to the Devil is also as bad enough of a sin as engaging in illicit activities with him.

Please say something. I was praying endlessly for him to take his desired form of action and put me out of my misery. The gravity of the moment weighed me down less than a minute in, I could not just stand there and predict terror, the need to know what he was doing was far too tempting than the fear of staring into his satanic, yet hauntingly beautiful eyes. I turned to my back and my eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. I could not believe what I was witnessing. As soon as my eyes fell on his form, my step-father brought his fingers, fingers which were surely stained with my juices and wearing the scent of my femininity, to his lips while staring me dead in the eyes and slowly sucked them off. Then he purred and ever so tauntingly donned his signature devious smirk.

That was the most horrifying, yet the most sexiest thing I have ever seen. I forgot how to breathe, he looked like he had just tasted the most delicious, decadent thing in the world, yet he maintained this sternness in his eyes which promised me that I was going to face the consequences of my actions later.

Because when the Lord of Bervon wants to taste you, you let him taste you.

I remained glued to the floor and did not move from my spot even as he covered the distance between us and cast his dark, disrobing gaze on me.

"I am sorry father." I uttered nervously, my voice barely above a whisper and he returned me an irritated growl. I quickly corrected my mistake, my sovereign of hell step- father hates it when I refer to him as father or Dad and I like most people who value their sanity and lives; I have never dared to call him by his name. He only wants me to call him daddy, which I have never minded, it was just another one of his rules.

"I am sorry daddy… please-" Before I could even shakily utter the rest of my apology and provide the unattended fish in the oven as an excuse; he silenced me by swiftly grasping my neck and forcing my head upwards so I could stare him in the eyes.

Taunt the virgin why don't you, daddy!

Just as I was greeted by that unnatural, unearthly erection again, this time having it pressed to my stomach, right on my groin and I gasped loudly from the reintroduced shock- a soft, dulcet voice ushered in the last person I wanted to walk into this room.

"How is everything going in here?" That was the voice of my mother as she emerged from the threshold and immediately her sapphire blue eyes fell on us, on me.

I held my breath, my face nearly crumbling as I lost all sense and failed to pull away from her husband who happened to be holding me in a rather inappropriate manner. I was shitting myself as I observed my seemingly unfazed mother who still spotted a small smile miraculously, walk past us and assemble herself at the opposite side of the island. I saw her bend over before the Devil commanded my attention by directing my head back to its initial position.

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed a muffled scream when he leaned into me, aiming his lips at the shell of my ear and making me fear he was going to kiss my lips right in front of my mother instead, in the process. I would have died if he had kissed me, my mother would have known that he saw me as more than a daughter because we have not even once pecked on the lips or hugged… strangely enough to a person who is not a resident of the Monalèz palace, I constantly find myself sitting on his lap, even though he would never hug me like other fathers hug their daughters.

His hot breath streamed over my flesh like the caress of fingertips and my insides shrunk, especially since I could feel my mother's eyes on me. He pressed his lips to my right earlobe and my legs almost transitioned into soggy spaghetti.

"You might not understand it now, but you are MINE, Marosa." There was an overwhelming firmness in his deep, dark voice especially as he placed more emphasis on 'mine'. I shuddered and much to my surprise and relief, he let me go before he walked out of the kitchen without sparing my mother a single stare.

Marosa.

Why did he call me Marosa? Who is Marosa? Or is it a what? What does Marosa even mean?

I was snapped out of my reverie by the sound of my mother clearing her throat in a manner that demanded attention. I slowly tilted my head and faced her. I was abashed, mortified, ashamed and I was taunted by the possibility of her having seen his massive erection. My mother was going to think that I seduced her husband, or worse she must be thinking that the Devil and I have been having an affair for some time now to be comfortable enough not to be cautious.

No!

And the worst part is that I became wet for him, I opened my thighs for him and I came very close to letting him slip his fingers inside me… or do worse.

Oh god!

How was I going to explain this to her?!