Damned if I do (the Damned Trilogy Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  This wasn’t just two set of lips pressed together, all meaning and no intention. This was all meaning and all intention.

  Wren’s arms wound around my neck, her fingers sliding into my hair and keeping my face close to hers as our kiss deepened.

  She tasted just as sweet as she smelled. She was just as soft as she looked. That mask of innocence was just that; a tenuous façade to hide the confident desire below. She was up on tip-toes, her body pressed against mine and held up largely by my arms alone.

  My heart kick-started in my chest and I felt the familiar stirring heat of my hard-on for her. My wings were out and I was about ready to fly us straight to our bed, no questions asked. When she caught my bottom lip in her teeth, they bunched along with my back muscles in preparation.

  “All right, Drake. I suppose this is a bad time, then?” Larry said from behind me and my wings weren’t the only things to go limp.

  I pulled away from Wren and leant my forehead to hers. She pressed her lips together and snorted, the playful smile making her eyes even more radiant. Her nose wrinkled as she fought the laugh and I cursed Hell’s bad timing.

  “Not at all, Larry. What can I do you for?” I asked.

  “I was just thinking that we should reinstate Music Mondays.”

  Wren smirked at my expression of disbelief. I was being distracted from my first real kiss with my wife because Larry wanted to bring back Music Mondays? Why did I have to deal with all this shit?

  “Have you mentioned it to my dad?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah. He said it was a great idea. Seemed pretty annoyed he let it lapse for so long. But he has been really in Samba Sundays lately.”

  There was something for every holy day of the fucking week in this place. I just failed to see what that had to do with me and why it had to matter at that exact moment.

  “Then why are you asking me, Larry?”

  “Oh, I’m not.”

  I sighed. “Okay…?” When Larry didn’t elaborate, I asked, “Was there a reason you’re bringing it up now, Larry?”

  “Oh, yeah! His devilness said you got to be in charge. Thought it was about time you had more of the family responsibility. What with you being married now and all.”

  Leave it to my father to twist the knife in. I knew he wanted me to succeed in the task he’d set. The guy thoroughly enjoyed setting unwanted duties and watching me go through with them whether I wanted to or not. He also liked making it as difficult as possible for me. He probably somehow knew what had just happened and had sent Larry along to interfere. What better way to delay my progress than cock block me in the most depressing way?

  “Do you need to go to work?” Wren asked. Her tone was cheeky. She was sassing me.

  And I couldn’t take her to our room and enjoy it. I had to deal with Hell stuff.

  I groaned. “Can you stay safe for like…a few hours and we can pick this up again later?”

  Her eyes searched mine like she was trying to burn the memory of this moment in her mind. I completely understood the sentiment; I was busy trying to do the same.

  Finally, she nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Thank Grandad,” I muttered.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  I nodded, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and turned away from her before I couldn’t anymore. “All right, Larry. Talk me through your plan.”

  Wren

  All right, so I was over whatever excuse I was telling myself was why I wasn’t sleeping with Drake. That was irrelevant. It was stupid. It was all lies anyway.

  There were only good repercussions for sleeping with him.

  I lost nothing.

  Nothing except him.

  In one swift move, the very best outcome from sleeping with him had suddenly become far less enticing.

  Of course, I wanted to go home. I missed my family. I missed Harmony. Did it help that I knew for a fact they’d probably only experienced a few hours of my absence and Drake had made them all totally okay with me being gone? Of course, it did. But I’d still experienced almost two weeks without people I loved and saw every day, and I was missing them.

  But going home also meant the very real possibility that I’d never see Drake again. And even if I did, so much time might have passed for him that he wouldn’t look at me the same way anymore, he might not touch me the same way. And there was something very unattractive about that prospect.

  Suddenly, my not sleeping with him had nothing to do with some imaginary principles and everything to do with me being afraid he’d send me home after I did. Even if Drake didn’t send me home right away, his father might.

  Not that it was the most pressing matter just then.

  When I heard the bedroom door open, I spun around quickly only to find it was one of those rolly-polly guard demons with the pike, the helmet, cropped leather vest and black diaper – for all intents and purposes.

  “His devilness, Lucifer, lord of all Hell and your beguiling father-in-law would like to invite you to dine with him and the family tonight, ma’am,” it intoned and I fully believed it was a direct message from said father-in-law.

  “Uh…” I started, thinking it was Neville, but not sure. “Thank you…Neville…?”

  A smile of cracked teeth erupted on his face. “You’re welcome, ma’am. Master Drake is already there, if you’re ready?”

  “Oh.” I looked around the room. Kyle grinned at me, Truman waited for instruction, and even Ignacio seemed waiting for my word. “Oh. Um. Yes. Sure.”

  I took a step forward.

  “His devilness was quite clear on the dress code, ma’am,” Neville said apologetically.

  “What does he want?” Truman asked, sounding exasperated.

  “He wants it to be quite formal.”

  “Of course, he does,” Truman sighed. “All right, ma’am. Let’s get you dressed.”

  If Hell had its own version of a Cinderella-moment, this was it. Only instead of a fairy godmother, I had a Truman. Instead of mice, I had an ignacio. Instead of a pumpkin, I had a Kyle. And instead of the wonderous magical transformation, mine involved more fire and less coverage.

  I was left standing in a tight black dress. Half the bodice was nothing but beading, exposing an unnecessary amount of skin. On the same side, there was a slit up the skirt that went almost to my hip and met the sheer half of the bodice, but at least it meant I could walk while I was flashing my entire leg to the whole of Hell. It was paired with some tall, black mary-jane heels. I could feel my hair was up, with annoying wispy bits tickling my neck and cheeks.

  “Truman…this is… I can’t wear this.”

  “On the contrary, ma’am. You are wearing it.”

  “No, I meant–”

  “If you’re ready, ma’am,” Neville said from the door.

  I sighed. “Fine. Fine. Who needs modesty anyway?”

  I tucked some of my skirt in my hand to make walking even easier and followed Neville to my father-in-law’s throne room.

  At the doors, I took one more look down and I tucked some hair behind my ear. As I looked up again, I found the doors were open and everyone inside was staring at me.

  “There you are, Serenity!” my father-in-law called.

  “Inside!” Kyle whispered from behind me, giving me a gentle nudge.

  I stumbled forward, and tried to make it look like normal forward momentum.

  At least I wasn’t the only one dressed up to the ninth circle of Hell.

  Esther had swapped her swathe of sheer fabric for a severe white gown. The off-the-shoulder design swept out from her body in points. It cut into her waist like her waist barely existed. The train was quite long but, since she seemed to sort of hover and float ominously rather than walk, it didn’t seem to be a problem.

  “You look wonderful, daughter,” my father-in-law said with a wicked gleam to his eye.

  He wore a red tuxedo, complete with tails. His hair was slicked bac
k, horns shining proudly. His cane had a silver skull at the top. His Oxfords were white and black and polished to perfection.

  “Thank you…your lordship.”

  He scoffed with a grin. “No. No. That won’t do at all.” He stood up from his throne and swaggered towards me, swinging his cane. “No wife of my son will endure such…formalities.” He pointed to Drake then to me. “Doesn’t you wife look fetching, son?”

  I’d avoided looking too closely at Drake because I needed the brain power for walking in those shoes. But I had no choice then and I did almost roll my ankle.

  Drake was in a similar tuxedo to his father. But where the devil’s was red, Drake’s was white. It contrasted against his near-black hair and olive skin brilliantly. It even made his blue eyes shine. Not that they stayed blue for long. Our eyes locked across the basically empty room and I watched as they went bright red, glowing brighter than his father’s ever had. He was walking towards me as though under his father’s sway.

  “Doesn’t she look…good enough to…eat,” the devil purred, then his manner changed from seductive to chirpy. “A woman like that – the wife of my only living son – surely she’s earned more familiarity than ‘your lordship’. No, no, Serenity. You will call me Lucifer. Satan if you wish. Hades if that’s your preference. Or even…Daddy, if you’re feeling naughty.” He winked at me. “But never ‘your lordship’.”

  By the end of his speech, Drake was standing in front of me and music had started.

  “Now.” Lucifer threw his arms up and we were surrounded by hundreds of couples. “We dance!”

  Drake’s eyes burned in more ways than one as he looked down at me. The memory of our kiss seared me just as deep as he picked my hand up gently and lay it on his shoulder. As he took hold of my other hand, it went to my waist – the one barely covered in beading – and my skin blazed pleasantly at his touch.

  Lucifer was singing a song I didn’t recognise. It was slow and rough, the vocals deep and the tune almost jagged. But every couple – even Drake and I – danced the same steps as they twisted and twirled around the room in perfect sync. I didn’t know if it was kudos to Drake’s leading skills or some magic in the music. I suspected the latter.

  But at least I didn’t have to think about the steps as I stared at my husband – when the dance permitted. My mind was completely free to fantasise about him, to lust over him, and to imagine we hadn’t been interrupted earlier.

  The whole scene had something mystical and magical about it that left me in a foggy state of lust. I could think of nothing but Drake’s hands on my body and his lips on mine as he ripped me out of my dress.

  I lost track of the number of dances. I only knew that, at some point, Drake, Lucifer, Esther and I were sitting at the table – occupying the same seats as my first night in Hell. The other couples still danced like puppets on strings, eerie and silent but for the swishing of skirts. I still couldn’t take my eyes off Drake as the food arrived and Lucifer prattled about something he seemed to find exciting.

  “Oh, for the Almighty Drip’s sake,” Lucifer eventually cried, flinging his arms up. “The sexual tension between the two of you is putting me – me of all beings – off my food. Will you go and relieve yourselves and put us all out of your misery?”

  I watched Drake look at his father. Lucifer nodded once and flicked his hand towards the door.

  “Go. Take her. I have no interest in this puppy love nonsense.”

  Drake pushed himself up from the table with enough force the chair went flying backwards, dancing couples manoeuvring seamlessly to let it clatter past. But I was too tense to find anything funny about the situation, even with Lucifer’s little exclamation of surprise.

  Drake stalked around the table and held his hand out to me. I put my hand in his more than willingly.

  “Yes. Yes. Very intense. Very romantic.” Lucifer waved his hand at us to hurry up.

  Drake pulled me up and didn’t stop pulling as we practically jogged back to our room. Until we reached the door. He drew me to him with one arm and kissed me as he threw the door open with his other hand. Lifting me over the threshold and closing the door behind us, his lips didn’t leave mine.

  Then I was falling forwards as he fell backwards and he wrapped me up tight against him as his back hit the floor.

  “Hello!” Kyle said, his head popping up next to Drake’s shoulder, a smile stretching ear-to-ear. “We fell.”

  Drake cleared his throat as he tried to sit up and I scrambled to be more helpful in that endeavour. “Hi, Kyle.”

  “Good dinner?” Kyle’s ear twitched.

  I nodded to Kyle, not wanting to be rude but also really needing to get back to kissing Drake. “It was nice, yes.”

  “I see we can’t even make it to the bed now, sir,” Truman said smoothly.

  “Barely got in the door,” came Ignacio’s growl and I looked at him to see what passed for a smile on his face.

  “Do you think you boys could give us the room?” Drake asked pointedly.

  “Why?” Kyle asked, his head cocking to one side, then the other as he took us in.

  “Why do you think?” Ignacio huffed the roughest laugh in the history of rough laughs.

  “Indeed. How long do you need, sir?” Truman asked.

  “Give us the night,” Drake said.

  “As you wish. Good night, sir. Ma’am.”

  “Good night,” I said as he and Ignacio started moving out.

  “Kyle stay. Kyle help!” he said joyfully, bouncing on his hooves.

  “Nope,” Ignacio darted back intp the room to pull him out.

  The devilbums closed the door behind them and I heard the tell-tale sound of the door locking.

  “Where were we?” Drake’s deep voice brought me back to the right moment.

  As I turned back to him, he took my hand and pulled me into his lap and kissed me hard. It was possessive. It was demanding. It was passionate. It was everything you wanted in a kiss. Most importantly, it was needy.

  Drake kissed me like there was only me. I had never felt so wanted. I hadn’t known it was possible to feel that wanted. I felt it in the depths of who I was. It started in the centre of my soul and spread through my body, coursing along my veins, skittering along my skin. It spread until I felt a whole new sense of heat. One that came with a sense of peace. Something missing had been found. Something wrong had been put right.

  I was in Hell. I was all-but married. But nothing in my life had felt more normal.

  Which is why I couldn’t sleep with Drake.

  I pulled away from him, breathing so hard I felt like I’d run a marathon. Drake was far more composed, with just a slightly faster rise and fall of his chest. It was the red of his eyes that gave him away.

  “We… I can’t,” I panted.

  I’d expected resistance. I’d expected some sort of bargaining. I’d expected persuasion.

  But he nodded. “Okay.” The only sign he was as affected as me was a slight breathlessness to his voice.

  “Okay?” I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or annoyed he’d accepted it.

  He nodded again as he ran his hands over my hair softly. “Okay. Slow.”

  Slow. I didn’t want slow. But I also wasn’t ready to leave him.

  He helped me stand, then we undressed leisurely. He kissed me now and then. It was still full of heat, but less urgency and, as much as I already missed it, I knew it was for the best.

  We climbed into bed and he seemed perfectly happy just to kiss me. By the time a normal fire would be little more than smouldering ash, we’d fallen asleep. But, when I woke in the morning, I was tucked into his body and his arm was over my waist.

  Drake

  I wasn’t sure how it had happened, but it felt like Wren and I were in some sort of unspoken agreement. She’d been in no hurry to take our relationship any further. Not that we’d had much opportunity, but it felt almost like anything but sex was fair game.<
br />
  I wasn’t complaining.

  Much.

  My father had assured her that she would go home after we slept together. It was a promise not easily broken, and one my father would be keen to keep despite what I may have wanted. Collection didn’t equal trophy in our world. I was owed a wife, not a soul. The fact that she was owed my soul in the marriage pact was irrelevant. Her soul did not belong to Hell, ergo she’d go back.

  My father had strict rules when it came to souls being where they belonged. If he wasn’t strict about it, he could hardly complain when the other team bent the rules.

  Which was why he was in such a contradiction when it came to the predicament he had solidly landed me in.

  For all his numerous sins, I had to hand it to him. I was pretty sure that, as much as he seemed happy to cock block me on as many occasions as possible. He also seemed to be going out of his way to stir the romance between me and Wren. Romance that was yet to evolve into sex. Only partly due to him. And he was getting impatient.

  “I just don’t understand why you haven’t done the deed yet, son,” my father said, hanging over the arm rests of his throne. “You’re good-looking. She’s good-looking. The two of you are a match made in Hell.” He grinned at me proudly. “Literally.”

  I crossed my arms. “How’s Persephone lately?”

  Dad waved a hand. “As beautiful as ever. Of course.”

  “She should be back by now, surely?”

  “She has never once in eternity been late. Stop trying to goad me into forgetting what I’m talking about.” He sat up and pointed at me. “Is it really that hard to fuck your wife, son?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Dad gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  “What a husband and wife get up to is their own business!” he said petulantly.

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  He waggled his finger at me. “No. No. See it’s different. A parent gets to meddle. A child doesn’t.”

  I rubbed my nose. “What was Grandad’s number again?” I asked, feigning nonchalance.