by King, Bella
The knob on the sink turns without any resistance, spewing an airy stream of cold water into the basin. I push my hands under it, feeling a slight sting from the scarification that hasn’t yet healed. I savor the coolness on my hot hands for a moment before splashing it on my face.
I yank the stopper for the sink so that it can fill up to the brim. There’s no secondary exit hole at the top, so the sink threatens to overflow if I don’t watch it closely.
There’s something hypnotic about the way the stream of water splashes into the bowl, filling it up quickly as I stare into the perfectly clear ripples and quickly disappearing bubbles. The white noise helps to calm me down, but it doesn’t last long before I have to turn it off.
The heat of the shower will relax my body, but I need something cold on my face. I’m flushed and frustrated with how things are going, desperate to know more, but unable to learn it because Diavolo has been blocking me at every turn.
I look into my eyes for a brief moment, at the cold woman behind them, then I dunk my face into the water, splashing it out of the basin as my head sinks into the icy liquid. I hold my breath as I stay under for as long as I can, until I’m twitching, and my chest is heaving.
The urge to drown myself comes over me, but it’s nothing compared to the will to. I come up, hitting the back of my head against the faucet as I break free of the promise of death.
I stumble back, coughing and rubbing the back of my head. My hand comes away void of any blood, but I can feel a welt forming.
I look back into the mirror at the wet strands of hair that stick to my cheeks and creep between my puffy lips. Some of my former self is still there, and it’s more apparent now that I’ve shocked myself into feeling again. The pain reminds me that I’m alive, and sometimes I need that. Sometimes, I feel like I’m not even alive.
I shake my head until my head hurts, bringing the color back into my cheeks. I’m sure I’ll look more alive after my shower, but I wish I had something better to wear than formal clothes. I miss the way I dressed before all the crime and suffering.
But dreams are made to be brought to life, and I have no intention of living my life this way forever. Once Diavolo comes back, I’ll get that information out of him one way or another. I have to, for the sake of my sanity.
The knob in the shower is as smooth as the sink, bringing forth a stream of hot water. I step under it, closing my eyes and letting it pour over my head like a baptism. In the arms of the devil, it’s just what I need.
But the devil has more allure than a fake baptism, and I end up reaching for the soap that Diavolo uses so that I can smell his scent on me. I hold the black bar up to my nose and inhale deeply, sucking in the smell of a man I love and hate at the same time. It’s to die for.
Rubbing Diavolo all over my chest, I find my nipples getting hard again. They always are when I’m around him, and even the smell that lingers on his skin is enough to bring me to a state of arousal. I feel more alive when I’m with him than when I’m alone, even though it should be the other way around.
I’m so fucking lost, and I know it.
Once I feel like I’ve washed away enough of the existential dread, I place Diavolo’s soap back down and leave the shower, stepping out onto the rug while my skin is still dripping wet. I allow my body to drip dry as I exit the bathroom.
I think I’ll wait for Diavolo on the bed…
Naked.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Diavolo
“We needed that ship for the newest line of production,” I shout, slamming my hand into the table in the meeting room. “I promised several dealers on the port that I would have more bricks ready for pickup in two weeks.”
Slate’s eyes are wide and fearful, not of me, but of the implications that another disappearing ship has on the future of the Devil’s Kingdom. He rocks in his chair like he’s trying to put a baby to sleep in his arms, twiddling his thumbs and avoiding eye contact with me.
“Are you listening, Slate?” I ask, leaning in toward him with both palms flat on the glossy table between us.
He looks up at me, quickly looking away again when he sees my furious expression. “Yes, sir. I’m listening.”
“So, why the fuck is another ship missing?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
The room is laced with tension so thick that neither Slate nor I can breathe adequately. He doesn’t have the answers I’m looking for, at least not all of them, but I need to know more about this. Why the fuck are boats vanishing without any sign of where they went?
Slate speaks into his lap. “Javelin’s captain trainee Clay reported it, sir. Maybe you should speak with him.”
“I don’t want to speak with him,” I growl. “You’re the one with the information, and you’re the one who is going to explain to me what the hell is going on. Spit out the details, everything you know.”
Slate adjusts himself in the chair. “Clay directed the other ship to change routes to avoid the spot where the Black Diamond disappeared, but that one ended up vanishing. He said they didn’t even get a signal from them this time. They were just… gone.”
“I want both Javelin and Clay in a meeting tomorrow,” I say, jamming my finger into the table. “Make sure they’re prepared to explain every fucking detail to me. This can’t keep happening.”
Slate nods. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m serious,” I add, even though the point has gotten across quite clearly.
“Yes, sir,” Slate repeats dutifully. “Are you sure you don’t want me to bring them down this evening? Perhaps we could –”
“No,” I bark. “ I have other things to attend to this evening.”
“Very well.”
I rub my chin, thinking about Zella in the bedroom. If she knows something about Olesya, then I will make sure she tells me. If not, then the least I can do is make sure that she doesn’t cause trouble in the future. I wanted a personal assistant, not a woman who would turn my brain into a pile of horny slop.
“I’m very concerned about this,” Slate says, grabbing my attention again.
I roll my eyes. “Slate, we’re not going to make a big deal here, okay?”
“People are starting to ask questions,” he replies softly.
I throw my hands up. “Then let them ask. Let them fucking ask, and you’ll tell them that everything is going according to plan, as it always fucking does.”
Slate falls silent.
I sigh. “Listen, I’ll be real with you. I talked to Javelin on the boat about the message he got from the Black Diamond before it vanished. I have a pretty good idea of what’s going on here, and by tomorrow, I should have some answers. Just… don’t freak out, okay?”
Slate nods, straightening up in his seat. “I’m here to serve, sir.”
“That’s better,” I reply before turning around to leave.
“Sir?”
I look over my shoulder at Slate.
He stands up. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet,” I reply, walking out of the room.
The hallway is cold and damp, and I’d like to get back to my bedroom and confront Zella. In all actuality, it’s the notion of spending time with her that makes me feel better, not the fact that I’m close to knowing the truth. I’m in no rush to spoil the fun that I can have with Zella before her time with me is up.
If anything, tonight will be her chance to redeem herself, to gain my trust in a way that will all but eliminate her from my list of suspects. Her sister is involved with this, but that doesn’t mean that Zella knows about it.
I arrive at my bedroom in brooding thought, but when I open the door, I snap out of it in an instant. Sitting on the bed, looking just as pretty as a woman can be, is Zella.
And she’s completely naked.
“Expecting me?” I ask, closing the door behind me while keeping my eyes glued to her pale body.
“Who else would I be expecting?” she asks in a drawn-out purr.
I get
a chill from her words. I was going to make a move on her tonight, but it seems that we’re on the same page. We both want something from each other, and we’ve come together at the right time to make it happen.
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a lover, and my cock is already rock solid from looking at her. I don’t usually entertain myself with naked women and mindless scenes of other people fucking. If I’m going to indulge in the earthly pleasures that the devil provides, it’s going to be in the flesh.
I step toward Zella, my cock pushing at the seam of my pants, begging to be released. It aches from being packaged up so tightly when there’s a perfect woman sitting nude right in front of me.
“I’m fairly certain that I already told you that sexual relationships between members are strictly forbidden in the Devil’s Kingdom,” I say, loosening my tie.
“And I thought I made it very clear that I didn’t care,” she replies, her eyes brighter than jewels as she sits like a prize in front of me.
I slip out of my suit jacket, dropping it on the floor with a soft crumpling thud, quickly moving to the buttons on my shirt. Her eyes never leave mine as I get undressed in front of her.
“I need to shower first,” I say, already noticing the unsavory smell of sweat clinging to my skin. A lot of women like that, but I’m not taking chances with Zella. I want her too badly to fuck this up.
“Don’t take too long,” Zella warns, “Or I might not be here when you return.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, stepping toward the bathroom as shrug my shirt off my shoulders.
She shrugs, a sly smile painted on her lips. “I’ve already been waiting for a long time.”
I chuckle. “Well, you won’t be waiting for much longer.”
“I hope not.”
I’m not going to pass up this opportunity to bury my cock inside of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but I’m also not going to go in dirty and smelling like the ocean. Following Zella’s lead, I’ll be in and out of the shower in just a minute, allowing me to fully enjoy what we’re about to do together.
I leave the bathroom door open as I take my pants off, making it known that I’m rock solid before I get into the shower and rinse off. I’m ready to claim Zella. Interrogating her can wait until tomorrow morning.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zella
Am I doing this for myself, or is this really for the greater good? If I’m to defeat this man and discover his secrets, then I need to do anything and everything to seduce him.
The only problem is…
This feels like he’s the one seducing me.
I look down at my naked body, noticing how my nipples have stayed hard ever since I laid eyes on Diavolo. This evening isn’t any different, but this time, there’s even more going on. My stomach is bubbling like a soda, and the wetness between my legs is practically dripping onto the carpet at my feet.
Diavolo stands before me, his body glistening with water from the shower. He didn’t even bother to towel himself off before prancing out here in front of me. His cock is thick and erect, displayed with the confidence of a man who knows what he’s about to get from me.
But I feel like I’m the one getting everything. I shouldn’t fuck a man who I hate, but it’s going to feel so goddamn good, and I keep telling myself that this has to happen so that I can get revenge. It’s the only way. I swear up and down, but I don’t believe it.
Truthfully, I want him for my own selfish reasons, but I won’t let that little issue prevent me from moving forward. I don’t mix business and pleasure, but tonight is an exception to that rule. I’m about to be doing a whole heck of a lot of mixing.
I stare at Diavolo, not saying a word as he looks me over. His eyes are large and hungry, steely grey under the unforgiving lights of his room. His muscles are huge, veins popping like some kind of beast hunting its prey.
I’m that prey.
“Get on the bed,” Diavolo commands, sending an instant jolt through me and causing my skin to form goosebumps.
I hesitate.
“Unless you want me to take you on the carpet. That’s also an option,” he says, a smirk invading his perfect lips.
I’m really doing this. I’m about to submit to the man who I should be trying to kill. It’s a common tactic in war to pretend to submit to an enemy to catch them off guard, but I feel that I’m letting my guard down. He’s the one in control of this situation.
But I won’t stop here. I’ve come too far to back down, and I’m not going to deny myself this pleasure for any longer. I take a step back, reclining on the bed, fully submitting to his power.
“Good,” Diavolo says, staring straight at the prize between my thighs. “But you’re not ready for me yet.”
“I’m not?” I ask, growing confused.
He shakes his head. “No. You must make yourself wet first.”
If only he touched me, he would know that I’m soaked. I’ll leave a wet spot on his sheets when I get up. Perhaps I should show him, or maybe I wouldn’t even have to do that. I could just tell him.
Diavolo stares at me expectantly.
“I’m already wet,” I say, the words struggling to leave my throat. It’s embarrassing to admit that to him, but I’m sure he already knows it. Maybe he just wanted to hear the words leave my mouth.
But his idea was more than that. He grins, placing his hand on his cock and giving it a gentle tug. “I want to watch you touch yourself first,” he says.
He’s playing with my mind. This is a trick to push me further into his playground, to cause my brain to melt into a submissive puddle so that he can own me entirely. I should’ve known that sex with him would be far more than just a physical thing. He’s interested in my mind just as much as my body.
I can’t look into Diavolo’s eyes as I place my hand onto my labia, pressing into the warmth of my mound. It feels so good and so needed, but I’m trembling as I feel the wetness. It’s far more than I imagined it to be, and that’s overwhelming.
I find my swollen clit easily, rubbing my hand on it while I look to the side, trying to ignore the huge man in front of me as he tugs his cock to the image of me masturbating. I hold my breath, only taking in short gasps of air through my nose as I rub myself in front of Diavolo.
“Look at me,” he demands, his voice deep and throaty as he speaks.
I look toward him, closing my eyes and feeling the pleasure rise before opening them. A rush of adrenaline hits me, coursing through my body as I meet his wicked gaze. It’s too powerful for me to maintain for more than a moment, so my eyes drift down his chiseled abs, searching for relief.
But his abs aren’t the only thing that my eyes find. In his hand is his cock, thick and pumped up to its fullest length as he slowly pulls on it. I’ve never had a man masturbate to me in person before, and I’ve certainly never done it to a man. I keep those things private.
Today, however, even my most intimate activities are on display for Diavolo. I’m his obedient assistant, ready to do anything he wants at the snap of his fingers. I’m playing the part, but this actress has fallen too deep into the role to resurface. I’ve become what I pretended to be.
A new wave of pleasure hits me, rolling up from my toes and zapping my pussy with such intensity that I have to remove my fingers from my clit for a moment.
“Don’t stop,” Diavolo urges. “Finish for me.”
I look up at him, staring in awe at the towering man who terrifies me just as much as he turns me on. The pleasure comes easily while looking at him, and the thrill only makes it that much more intense. I place my hand back down on my pussy, spread my legs for him, and meet his gaze with a surge of confidence as I continue to masturbate.
A moan escapes my mouth, and then another, and then yet another, as I make small, fast circles on my clit. Usually, it takes me much longer to climax, even with visual or written stimulation, but as I look into Diavolo’s absent soul, I explode into orgasm like a missile making impact.
My soul is shattered, turned to rubble from the shockwaves that ripple through me. I let out a cry, tears coming to my eyes as the pleasure becomes too much for my broken emotional state to handle. I’ve never been like this, so vulnerable and pure in the way that I express myself.
Not in the past five years, at least.
Now, my body erupts in much the same way as my soul does, releasing everything I’ve held inside.
I lay trembling, unable to see, unable to think. My body is floating on cotton, and my soul has left me. When I entered the Devil’s Kingdom, I didn’t realize what it would do to me.
Now, it’s too late.
“You enjoyed yourself,” Diavolo states, breaking me out of my post-orgasm daze.
I lift my head, looking at him again. “Yes,” I breathe, searching for more words, but finding none. Some moments aren’t able to be punctuated with the mortality of words. What happened was divine, and it isn’t over.
“Spread your legs, and let me see what you’ve done,” Diavolo says, stepping close to me, his cock jerking up even higher as he lets it go.
My legs part like they were made to open for him, and I watch his expression closely as he takes in the sight of my dripping wetness. At this point, I’m not even embarrassed at how I feel about him. I want him, and I don’t care about the consequences.
Diavolo bites his bottom lip, holding a hand out over my pussy. He looks at me as he touches my clit, and I nearly fly off the bed in shock.
“Sorry,” I say, settling back in and giggling at the look of surprise on his face. “I’m still sensitive.”
He chuckles, returning to his cool confidence. “No worries. I’ll give you a moment to recover.”
“Thanks,” I reply, laying my head back down on the mattress and staring up at the ceiling. My breath slows, and my body starts to feel the world around me again.