M - Who would ever want to hurt you?

[Samael Lykoi]

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http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/sam2.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:322px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:25px; padding-bottom:10px;">       She was growing closer and closer, reaching that breaking point where she would be consumed by utter ecstasy. Suddenly, her muscles tensed as her breath ceased to be, withdrawing into her lungs as her body was consumed by an impossible feeling she would have never felt before in her assumed innocence. Weak, trembling voice broke free from her lips as he felt the change within her, utterly enticed by her body’s reaction to his touch. Her mind may have fought him, but her body had ultimately given in, allowing her the pleasure he’d so willingly presented, but now he desired his own. He was a lustful creature by nature, unable to walk away when he’d gotten this far—even if it would harm her psyche far further than his simple caresses had done only moments before. Rising, he quickly moved into position, forcing himself within with little regard for her own well-being. She’d already been aroused and her muscled loosened to the point of release, so unless she again tried to fight against him he would find very little resistance. Pain would again be invoked by his entry into her body—especially so quickly and for the first time ever, but this was tossed aside for selfish desire. He reveled in her warmth—her body so pure and untainted, and he desired to consume and utterly devour every single inch of it.       Ravenous, he thrust roughly against her, losing himself within the carnal feelings that surged through him and tossed his threadbare sanity aside. His hands rested on the ground beside her, sinking his nails into the earth as he barely felt the sticky blood that’d soaked into the soil beneath them. His coat was already coated with drying crimson as it flaked and fell away from him, raining down with each movement. He jaws sought her throat, just able to restrain himself from sinking his teeth deep into her jugular and withdrawing every ounce of her blood, draining her dry like a vampire’s deathly kiss. No, instead he clenched his teeth tightly together and tightened his jaw muscles almost to pain, biting down on his own fangs as he inhaled the sweet scent of her neck and hair, longing for the life that throbbed beneath the delicate skin before his lips. He was alive, and the feelings that hotly flooded his veins, driving him toward oblivion assured him infinitely of this. It was like a drug, consuming him and maddening him until nothing else existed. He wished to plummet over the edge, aroused by those that’d fallen before him and the life that he could so easily be taken with his own hands.       Death was its own fulfillment, romanticized fully within the beast’s demonic mind, and when Samael died he would die with open arms and a wicked smile on his face—hoping he at least died only moments after achieving orgasm. There was no sense of time any longer, and it could have been moments, hours, or even days before he felt what he sought after rising up through his core, creeping through his being and inching along his veins before eventually slamming against his body and mind like a tidal wave. Sharp snarl escaping his lips, he pressed tightly against her body until the feeling eventually receded, finally withdrawing, panting and pleased. Moving away, he left her there where she was lying, shifting to the still body of the carcass he’d murdered earlier and sunk his fangs into the exposed, crimson flesh. It was blood he sought, not flesh, and he tore through the muscle and tissue, draining the beast until he was fully dry. Blood-red vision shifting, his head momentarily turned, recalling the girl and searching for her before his jaws again buried themselves in the flesh that was slowly growing cool and immobile.

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