Dinner is a dense fog.
Another tight-fitting dress. More rich, luscious foods. And more raucous ramblings from Lucifer’s little band of misfits. Nikolai has resigned to his role of asshole bestie while the three sexed up vixens giggle at every fucking thing Lucifer says. I swear, he can’t even chew and swallow without them fawning at his leather loafered feet. Luckily, I only have to sit through three courses of their pathetic groveling instead of six.
“Are you enjoying your scallops, Eden?” Lucifer asks casually, as if he didn’t drop an atomic truth bomb on me earlier today. I spent the better part of the afternoon sinking even further in self-doubt and confusion. I knew Legion was one of Hell’s big bads. I just didn’t know how bad he was. And what his true intentions were.
I nod and muster up what feels like a polite smile. For all I know, I could be grimacing. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Good. I’ve got something special planned for dessert.”
Blood drains from my face. “Another surprise?”
An elegant hand rests on top of mine for just a second. “Do not fret. Tonight is all about pleasure. No punishments to exact, I promise.”
I quickly yank my hand away and hide it under the table. “That’s…good to know.” But even his promise does nothing to ease the sick feeling in my gut, and I spend the remainder of the meal pushing food around my plate.
Some time after dessert plates are cleared, Lucifer’s unholy trinity excuse themselves to a back room, only to return wearing next to nothing. Scraps of patent leather barely cover their nipples and lower lady bits. Each of them is holding a leash, and attached to the other ends are three naked captives—two men and a woman. Wrists bound and mouths stuffed with ball gags, they shuffle forward on their knees, struggling to keep up with their obscenely-dressed mistresses. The only thing that keeps me from booking it to my room is the fact they seem willing—excited even. Like they signed up to be debased and humiliated.
Lucifer’s dark angels stop before us, each of them wearing sly smiles as they toy with their chain-link leashes.
“Tonight,” one begins—Amanda, I think.
“Isn’t just about pleasure,” Sandra continues.
“It’s also about…” Christina chimes in.
“Pain,” the three of them say, their voices perfectly synced.
Pain? My head jerks to Lucifer, who unsurprisingly is looking at me, as if he was waiting for my reaction.
“But you said…”
“Shhh. It’s alright,” Lucifer coos, his voice dripping with velvety condescension. “They want this—you’ll see.”
And I do see. More than I need to.
The girls start their show by commanding the three slaves to kiss the toe of their thigh high boots. Innocent enough. Then they move on to the kinkier stuff—a few slaps on their asses with paddles, a couple whips of their riding crops. They even broke out the nipple clamps. All very bootleg BDSM, and I have to admit, I’m disappointed. I expected more from Satan’s harlots. Not a page out of some amateur erotica novel or a Skinemax flick.
But then things get…darker.
The color drains from my face when the three women fasten massive strap-ons and slather them with clear goop. And when they start to fuck them—hard—I feel the first tastes of bile at the back of my throat. But their captives seem to enjoy it. Love it, even. They beg for more and more, and with this night being all about pleasure, the women are just too happy to oblige.
But what really disgusts me is the fire that seems to roar in my belly, setting my extremities aflame. I feel the heat in my cheeks, sweeping across my chest and painting streaks of rose on my goose-pimpled skin. My tongue blazes with the need to taste their passion, my mouth salivating with desire.
I hate that I feel this way. I hate that just looking at them makes me squirm with longing. I’m sickened by the way it turns me on to see grown men whimpering as their bodies are filled with long, rigid silicone cocks.
I squeeze my thighs together to stifle the burn. My sex trembles at the applied friction and I bite my lip to keep my own moans at bay. Mesmerized, I don’t even blink until Christina barks out a command, causing everyone to shift into different positions. And then…I nearly lose it.
She slides her plastic cock into one of the men, who then enters the other male from behind. The second man spreads the thighs of the female captive and buries himself inside her dripping wet sex. Amanda whips off her strap on and straddles the woman’s face, riding her mouth in time with the synced strokes. And with her hands free, she pulls Sandra to her, swings her thigh over her shoulder and buries her fingers and tongue deep inside her pussy.
I thought the orgy inside the Watcher’s bathroom was incredible. This…is next level freaky. And every slap of skin, every cry of pleasure, and every deep thrust makes me shudder with desire. I want this. I want what they have. I want Sandra’s juices dribbling down my lips. I want to scrape my fingernails against her soft, wet flesh. I want that stranger’s cock inside me while he also gets pummeled from behind. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, but fuck…I want it. And I don’t know why.
I feel myself changing here. My mind is so open, my body so aroused. I’m thinking about things I would never dare to watch, let alone try. And here it is, mine for the taking. I could stand up from this dinner table, strip off my dress and join them, and no one would judge me. No one would try to stop me or shame me. They’d welcome me with open arms and celebrate my body’s liberation.
Do it, a voice whispers in my head. Not my voice. Not even Adriel’s. It will feel so good.
I want to feel good. I want to feel something—anything—other than hurt and rage and fear. I want to be free of the shackles of self-doubt and insecurity that have kept me bound in a prison of mundane. I worked my entire life to fade into the background. Don’t draw undue attention. Stay in the shadows. Don’t let them see what you really are. And you know what? It’s gotten me nothing. Absolutely nothing but loneliness, heartache, and a shitload of trouble. So why not act on my desires? Why not do what feels good?
I suck in a breath and prepare to cast away every last ounce of inhibition, when the teeth-clenching sound of shattering glass captures my attention.
“Apologies,” Nikolai grits, his icy glare piercing straight through the lust-riddled fog. His mouth tightens in disdain as he feigns shock at the mess he’s made, causing red wine to stain the table with bloody repugnance.
Shit. Was I really about to rip off my clothes and join a fucking orgy? In Hell? With a gaggle of she-devils or demons or whatever the hell they are? What is happening to me?
I close my eyes to collect myself while servants file in to clean up Niko’s mess. The scene before us continues, although with a little less gusto. Or maybe that’s me. Maybe now that I’m not completely blinded by red-hot lust, I can finally see what this really is—a trap. A diversion to distract my mind from my body. Lucifer knows that the flesh is weak. Hell, he practically wrote the book on tempting the carnal needs of men. He knows which buttons to push to make me succumb to my mortal frailty. And truth be told, I let him push each one of mine.
Fuck. Him.
He may have won this morning, but he won’t win this.
“That’s enough!” I jump from my seat with enough force to make the chair’s legs screech across the red-jeweled floor. All activity ceases. Not even one throaty grunt or scrape of fingernails against humid skin. I don’t know if I’ve just committed suicide, but as every wide eye rests on me, I know for a fact that I’ve gotten their attention. Especially the grand wizard of evil himself.
“Is there a problem, dear?” Lucifer asks coyly.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” I reply, leaning forward. My sweaty palms feel hot against the tabletop, but I don’t back down. “I won’t play innocent; you know I’m almost as fucked up as they are.” A wave toward the frozen orgy on the dining room floor. “But I’m here to tell you… It won’t work. I appreciate the gesture, but it’s not happening. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
I’m signing my own death slip. I cross the distance to the exit doors knowing full well that the Grim Reaper could be on the other side. But nothing but stunned silence follows me out of the room. Even Saskia’s frightened expression at the threshold doesn’t slow my pace. I ignore the prying eyes and the low hum that seems to emanate from the paintings. Let them look. Let them report back to their master what a defiant bitch I am. He’s probably plotting my tragic demise right this very moment, compiling his very own Torture’s Greatest Hits.
“Come on,” I snap, afraid to slow down.
Her short legs struggle to keep up. She hoarsely whispers, “What happened?”
I cast a sideways glance to the walls, catching movement out of the corner of my eye. I can hear the frantic buzz of dozens of hushed whispers, but they do nothing to drown out the blood roaring in my ears.
I don’t even give Saskia the opportunity to open the door to my room before I fling it open, desperate for safety and solace. However, I find something else entirely.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Niko growls, the bite of his voice accompanied by a look meant to freeze me in my tracks. Poor Saskia yelps and quickly closes the door behind her, eager to escape his icy assault.
“How did you get in here?” I haughtily brush by him. “And won’t your master be looking for you?”
“Never mind that. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Because if so, warn me next time. I really like this suit, and blood is a bitch to get out of silk.”
With a roll of my eyes, I trudge over to the wardrobe and kick off my obscenely high heels. “I’m sorry. I can’t play your twisted little game. Get someone else.”
I rip at the ridiculous fabric of my dress—a strapless black number that barely hits two inches below my lady bits—dying to rid my body of any reminder of this evening’s…activities. Fuck modesty. We just watched a damn orgy go down feet away from us. My nostrils are still burning with the stench of sweat, silicone and sex.
Niko turns and gives me his back, too annoyed to gawk at the sight of me in my underwear. “Newsflash, cupcake: there is no one else. He chose you, didn’t you hear? You’re not here by chance. So I don’t give a good goddamn if you’re done with this game. It’s not done with you. Deal with it.”
I march around to face him, unbothered by my state of undress. Niko stares down at me with cold intensity.
“Did you know? About Legion? Did you know what he was?”
He blinks, but the hardness of his stare doesn’t dissipate. “He showed you. The Beginning.”
“You knew what a monster he was, didn’t you? And that he was just using me out of revenge.”
“You don’t know that for sure. No one does, not even Lucifer.”
“Really.” I cross my arms in front of my lace-clad breasts. “Because from where I’m sitting, he’s been a lot more forthcoming that anyone else in my life, not excluding present company. What am I doing here? How am I supposed to fight back when I’m stuck here, playing Slut Goth Barbie?”
Niko heaves a heavy sigh and strolls over to the bed. “I need your help.”
“My help with what?” I ask, joining him on the bed.
His ice blue eyes shift from left to right, reluctant to divulge his secret plot. “Lucifer has a weapon, one that could not only destroy any and everyone in its path, but also destroy him. I need you to keep him distracted long enough for me to get into that room. And when Legion comes to rescue you—”
“He’s not coming to rescue me. Haven’t you been paying attention?”
Niko rolls his eyes. “Oh, get over the fake hopelessness. You know good and damn well Legion wouldn’t leave you here. He’s coming for you. You just need to be ready when he arrives.”
“And if I don’t want to go?” I ask, raising an unconvinced brow.
Niko takes a beat to choose his words widely, his mouth working through the bitter taste of frustration. “Then I was wrong about you, and you’re absolutely nothing like Gabriella. Turning your back on your fellow man would make you the selfish, immature little girl the rest of the world believed you were, and all this sacrifice—from me, from my kind, from the Se7en, hell, even your sister—would have all been for nothing. And you’d have to live with that on your conscience, along with the blood of innocents on your hands.”
His words stab right through my stubborn haze, sobering me. “If you don’t get this weapon, do you think Lucifer will use it?” I question, my voice small and my ego tamed.
“With you by his side? Undoubtedly. You’re exactly what he needs to manipulate it.”
“Which is why you don’t want me here.”
“There are other reasons, but yes. The longer you’re here, the more susceptible you are to his advances. This place alters you…feeds on your weaknesses and sustains you with a false sense of liberation. Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me you aren’t beginning to change.”
I can’t argue with him, and I don’t. I’d be a fool to doubt the validity of his claims, especially when I have nothing to disprove them. That still doesn’t ease my mind when it comes to Legion, and his role in all this. But if history has taught me anything, it’s to follow my gut. Usually the things that feel good are never good for me. And while Lucifer, and all his vicious beauty, intrigues my baser senses, I’m smart enough to know that his bite is far worse than his bark.
“Ok, fine. I’ll do what—”
In a flash of movement and color, Niko spins me around and pins my body against the bed, holding his own flush against my chest. His mouth covers mine, and he paints my parted lips with lazy strokes of his tongue. I gasp at the sudden intrusion, my head foggy with the feel and taste of him. It’s enough to almost make me forget where I am, and who he is. And just as realization sets in, and I push my palms against his hard chest, a dark rumble of laughter sounds from just feet away.
“It seems as if I’m right on time.”
I freeze, my wide, horrified eyes piercing right through Niko’s maddeningly calm guise. He lazily lifts his head and smiles.
“There you are. What took you so long?” he asks Lucifer, his words a bit slurred.
“Just needed to wrap up a few things. I see you two are getting acquainted.”
Niko heaves his body up from mine and casually lies on his side. His cool fingers slowly trace circles around my belly button, and I stifle a shiver.
“Eh. She’s an ordinary human. Once you’ve had a few thousand, you’ve had them all. Honestly, Lucifer, are you certain she’s the one?”
“Human, she is. Ordinary, she is not. Would you mind giving us a few moments alone? I appreciate you seeing her to her quarters, but I can take it from here.”
Niko climbs to his feet, not at all affected by the sharpness of Lucifer’s tone, and the black, simmering disdain in his glare. When his shoulder just barely brushes Lucifer’s on the way to the door, the air crackles with an unseen electrical current that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand to attention. I hold my breath, waiting—silently praying. One wrong move, and Niko’s guts could be painting the walls.
“Enjoying yourself?” Lucifer asks, the second the door to my bedroom closes. I exhale through slightly quivering lips.
“What do you mean?”
Lucifer strides to the wardrobe and plucks up a silk robe. When he extends it to me, I don’t hesitate to wrap it around my nearly naked frame. Shit. What was I thinking?
“I told you that you were not bound to silly human standards of courtship down here, Eden. I said that you were free to explore all of my home’s pleasures, as long as you remember who it is you serve. However, there is a line.”
Before I blink…before I can breathe…I am beneath him on the bed, much like the position Niko just had me in. However, there is no passion in his touch. Just stifling heat and fury that makes sweat bead on my nose and chest. I suck in a harsh breath, unable to breathe through the inferno radiating from his frame.
Eyes like black diamonds and his mouth a twisted snarl, he draws closer still and runs his teeth along the shell of my ear. “Be sure you don’t cross it. I may not be able to kill him, but I will kill his family, and everyone he’s ever known and loved. And I will make you watch.”
He’s off of me in an instant, staring down at me impassively. There’s no love in his eyes—no kindness. I can’t believe I ever thought he could be capable of being anything more than a monster.
Lucifer exits my room without another word. I don’t move for several minutes, not trusting my trembling limbs. But when I do, I trudge right over to the wardrobe and pick out the most scandalous dresses and heels I can find, organizing them by level of crudity. I plan how I’ll wear each one, and even alter a few for maximum exposure. Then I work on makeup and accessories.
Niko needs me to be Lucifer’s distraction. And if this is all I can do—parade around like one of his tramps—I’ll be the best damn distraction he’s ever seen. Even if I have to sell my soul…just a little.