When Sinners Kneel (Blackest Gold World)

by R. Scarlett

  I want to heal your soul.

  I want to heal your soul.

  I want to heal your soul.

  Yellow taxis flooded the street in the darkness and I ignored the harsh November wind.

  My mind drifted back to my mother’s voice when she’d called me. She sounded distant, distraught and I had felt my arms grow heavy, weighing me down.

  Something was wrong.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  Lex tried to keep up, but I didn’t falter. I needed to get to the townhouse and see what was going on.

  Was it Tensley? Was he injured? Had he returned from High Court?

  Was it my mother? Was she sick?

  I shook my hands out as we turned toward the white posh townhouse and up its elegant stone steps. I hadn’t been back to the townhouse since after the attack at the Pit, and regret ate at me.

  I opened the door to be met with the familiar row of soldiers spanning down either side of the large front hallway.

  None of them looked up and kept their heads bowed as I took large strides down the hall, Lex power-walking behind me.

  I turned down the hallway and could hear voices coming from the boardroom. I didn’t waste time and shoved open the door.

  All the councilmen sat in their leather chairs, Evelyn at the head and my mother next to her.

  She looked pale, sickly and as she raised her head, her dark, lifeless eyes caught mine.

  “Only councilmen allowed,” Evelyn clipped.

  “What happened?” I asked, ignoring Evelyn’s frosty stare and focusing on my mother.

  She opened her mouth, but only a tiny sob left it and she brought the back of her hand to her lips.

  “Goddamn it. Just fucking say it,” I hissed, slamming my hand down onto the oak table. The men jumped in surprise.

  My reputation didn’t just exist in the Pit and lower class. Even the top men of Scorpios knew my wrath and my temper was a deadly mix.

  My mother rose from her chair, cupping her shaking hands in front of her and with bloodshot eyes, she stared back at me. “Beau,” she said, lips trembling. “Your father has passed.”

  My vision blurred and my throat grew tight and dry.

  The man who shaped me. The man who raised me to be the perfect Dux.

  Dead.

  Gone.

  Multiple emotions clashed within me. Anger. Sadness. Remorse. Guilt.

  But anger always won.

  It seized me like an iron fist and chained my wrists.

  I could feel the beast seek control, burning my temples, aching to punish someone, to destroy anyone in my path.

  “And we’ve also heard news from High Court,” my mother said, but I could barely hear her. “They are saying Tensley…has killed Fallen.”

  My eyes shot up to hers. All the blood left my head and I felt dizzy. Fallen, the king that had destroyed my life, was dead.

  And now my brother…

  “He’s king now,” my mother whispered, filling in the pieces. “But…when he was fighting Fallen, just before he was killed…”

  I frowned at her, my fists clenching. “What? What happened?”

  “Beau, Fallen ripped out Tensley’s heart,” she said, her lips trembling, her eyes growing red and puffy. “But…maybe it’s not true. Maybe it’s just horrible rumors.”

  My whole world tilted.

  My father was dead.

  And my brother…was basically dead too.

  He had now suffered the same horrors as me.

  I was full beast and…Molly? She was married to a heartless monster.

  When I tried to swallow, I choked. The whole room shifted and spun. It was like reliving my past, reliving my horrors. My brother was gone. Everything he worked for, everything he was—everything was gone and now was an empty shell of darkness and horror.

  My mind kept returning to Molly. The poor girl who had fallen for Tensley and now had lost him.

  It felt like time was repeating itself. I couldn’t outrun my past, I couldn’t escape it. It came back, tenfold, exacting revenge on all of us. Especially me.

  And my father…my father was dead.

  An emptiness filled me.

  And then anger and sadness.

  Too many emotions rushing through my veins at once, emotions I didn’t know how to voice, how to explain and process other than through violence and rage.

  “Beau?” Lex’s fingers skimmed my arm and I flinched.

  I turned, pushing past her and down the hallway, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

  “Beau,” Lex called after me, but I kept moving, moving until I was right outside of my father’s bedroom.

  I leaned my forehead against the thick wood door and exhaled deeply.

  The man that had given me my cruelty. The man that had haunted me for years. All I ever wanted was for him to be proud of the beast I’d become. I had been his ideal son and I had crushed his hope. He died demising me—and somehow, I felt like I had died too.

  I growled, pushing off from the door and marching past Lex again, standing in the middle of the hallway with wide, wild eyes.

  When I made it to my old bedroom, I ripped open the door and stared at the perfect room. Awards from my days at boarding school hung on the walls. Trophies and other shiny crap I used to put value in.

  My past.

  My perfect past stained me.

  Ruined me.

  The perfect future Dux.

  I had poison in my veins now, in my blood and bones.

  And I used it to destroy the people who came too close to me.

  A roar passed my lips and before I could control myself, I ripped the awards off the walls and threw them on the ground.

  Every item I touched, I destroyed. Everything was a reminder of my past, of her, of my father—of what I was supposed to be.

  But now I was just a savage. A beast. A fuck-up.

  And that was the vision of me my father had died believing. And the cruelest parts of me wanted to honor it.

  My beast wanted blood, wanted to destroy someone and rip them apart piece by piece.

  And who was I to refuse.

  I gawked at him from the doorway, watching as he tore apart a bedroom. From the pictures on the walls, I realized it was his own. His old bedroom. I couldn’t leave him alone, not when I tasted his mixture of emotions.

  Especially when I tasted his sadness.

  It hurt my chest like a stab to the heart to watch his face crumple at his mother’s words.

  His father, the Dux of Scorpios, was dead.

  A vicious man. A bad father, but a great Dux. A man respected by his children for always putting his duty to Scorpios above all else.

  And my own heart ached for Tensley. He had tried so hard to control himself for so many years. He was there the day Fallen had destroyed the old Beau and it had been become his greatest fear ever since. And he’d been right to fear it, to fear the pull of the sin, because it was now his reality.

  And Molly…the man she loves was now a heartless king. Who would look after Scorpios?

  I so badly wanted to hold Tensley. I wanted to console my friend and save him. But then I saw the man in front of me. The man who I knew was blaming himself for all of this. A man who lived in the past and now his past was upon him. Like a nightmare he couldn’t escape.

  I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss away the pain and sorrow and darkness eating him alive. He’d destroy himself again. I could feel the path he was making his way back toward, the darkness he was shielding himself from the grief with. He would sacrifice himself to save everyone he cared about. He couldn’t comprehend in that moment that it wouldn’t save anyone. That punishing himself wouldn’t bring them back.

  I swallowed thickly, the tension thick in the room. I had meant what I said earlier. I wanted to heal his soul. I wanted to take away all the pain weighing him down and free him from himself. But I knew how dangerous it was.

  Beau dragged his arm across a table, sending all of the
glass awards and papers to the floor in a heaping mess.

  “Beau,” I whispered, edging closer carefully.

  Because watching him now, feeling the aggressive pheromones seizing him, I knew he was more beast than man in that moment. And I thought of Tensley’s warnings years ago. How Beau wouldn’t be able to control his wrath, how dangerous he came in his induced rages. He was spiraling, he was fueling the darkest parts of him and he was giving in.

  Beau paused, his back to me, the fabric of his t-shirt straining against his muscles as he heaved violently, catching his breath.

  “Leave, Alexandra,” he hissed.

  I stepped closer, biting the inside of my cheek and gauging him. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Fuck!” He dug into his pocket and took out a joint of belladonna. When he ripped a lighter from his pocket, his hands shook, unable to keep the flame going long enough to light the belladonna.

  I frowned at him, my chest aching at the sight.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, pressing my hand to his shoulder blade.

  He spun fast, gripping my wrist tightly. His eyes were dark and wild, the beast fully in control. I twisted in his painful hold, my panic rising, but it did nothing.

  In an attempt to calm him down, I whispered his name soothingly. Over and over. Watching as his dark pupils simmered with so much venom, so much poison it could kill a man if he drank it. “Come back, Beau. Come back to me.”

  After what seemed like an eternity, Beau took a deep breath, eyes clearing once more before he let go. “Get out, Alexandra,” he said, voice hoarse.

  My wrist ached but I didn’t move. His emotions swarmed the room, the intensity of them almost choking me. I took another step closer, my lips shaking, rubbing the sweat from my palms on my thighs. “No,” I whispered.

  His back tensed and he slightly tilted his head to the side.

  “I’m not leaving you alone now. I can help you. Let me take away the burden,” I said, moving closer, my fingers touching his wrist. I knew in my bones the consequences, but if I could help ease his heartbreak, his pain, save him from falling off the edge again, I would. I would gladly take it in. I would save him like he saved me. “Let me heal your soul tonight.”

  “Alexandra,” he said, lowly, so lowly my chest grew tight and hot.

  I moved closer, moving around his tall frame to stand in front of him.

  “Let me take away the pain,” I whispered, leaning up on my tiptoes to reach him.

  But he was too tall, still too far away.

  His dark eyes watched me—closely, slowly—and when I thought he was going to reject my offer, he dipped his head and caught my own mouth in a brutal kiss of sin and surrender and agony.

  And I tasted all of him.

  The pain, the sorrow, the bitter sadness heavy on my tongue.

  He was a never-ending pit of darkness and embers. Each taste of him never satisfied me and I knew it never satisfied him either.

  “Tell me to be gentle,” he whispered, his husky voice filling my ears.

  “But I don’t want you to be gentle with me.”

  He growled at that and his inked fingers dug into my hipbones, into my flesh, bringing me flushed against his godlike form. “Wrong fucking thing to say.”

  His hands ran down to my ass, cupping both cheeks in a vicious hold as he lifted me up and over to the bed.

  Our kisses became rushed and impatient, like our souls fighting for each other. He spread my legs, settling in-between them and I felt his thickness on my inner thigh—hard and long.

  His mouth tattooed into my hot skin and sunk deeper into my tattered soul.

  His hands skimmed up my legs and under my skirt, his fingers hooking around the edges of my panties and he dragged them down my legs, exposing my wetness to him.

  He pressed hot kisses to my collarbone, yanking my t-shirt up to expose my breasts. Before I could say a word, he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked viciously.

  “Beau,” I cried out, my nails digging into his back. I wanted to save him, I wanted to take away all the pain and save his soul.

  Even if it damned my own.

  Because I loved him, unapologetically, uncivilized as it was, as wrong as it was to love a beast, to love a demon in our world.

  My soul would save his.

  BEAU

  All the anger warped into pure pleasure as I touched every surface of Lex’s body. Each mewl I earned drove me farther to the edge. Each kiss from her—took away the heaviness inside of me and I watched in amazement as she surrendered herself to me completely.

  My emotions were giving her that high. That crazy powerful high.

  She consumed me. Everything she touched, even just the way her hips rolled up and down as she walked away, burnt a hungry memory into my mind.

  I had no right to claim her, to call her mine, but my soul—my fucking soul damned me.

  She made me feel like a dangerous man. I was corrupting her, and I couldn’t stop now. I needed to escape and she was offering to be just that, my escape. I would worship her, I would give her a high she had never experienced before.

  I sat back, unzipping my pants and pulling out my cock, hard and the veins looking angry.

  Her eyes followed my stroking hand and darkened to a deadly heat.

  She sat up, her hand reaching out and I let go, letting her tiny fist wrap around my hard shaft.

  Her soft palm made me jerk in need. It was intoxicating to feel her hand stroke me, first gently, then squeezing tighter, firmer, testing what I liked, what I needed most and what she enjoyed.

  “Fuck,” I hissed between clenched teeth.

  When she leaned forward, and her lips pressed to the flaring head, I threw my head back and gripped her hair. With my hands tangled in her dark mane, I took control and pressed farther into her warm mouth. Her tongue licked the underside of my cock, then the sensitive head.

  The energy expanded across my thighs and up into my chest. Energy an incubus craved for most of his life and I had a goddess giving me it.

  My balls grew tight and achy and I pressed a hand under her chin. She let my cock slip from her mouth and sat up, only for me to steal her mouth with my own. I tasted the saltiness of myself on her tongue and I couldn’t wait any longer. I pushed her back, letting myself rub the head of my cock between her opening.

  When I reached back for a condom in my back pocket, her legs wrapped around me and the head of my cock edged in, not fully, but enough to make me grunt. Enough to make me want to thrust balls deep inside of her.

  I wanted her raw, I wanted to feel my hard cock in her clenching tightness, but I knew the risks. Condoms, birth control, were a must.

  As much as I fucking wanted her to feel every ridge of me as I moved within her, it was a ‘fuck no’ for me.

  I would never damn someone because of my recklessness again.

  I’d keep her safe and my cock wrapped.

  “No, cucciola,” I hissed in warning. “I’m not taking you raw.”

  She tightened her legs around me again and rolled her lip between her teeth. “Can’t you just pull out? Just this once? I want to feel you.”

  I glared down at her, tempting me, seducing me, and ripped open the condom packet with my teeth, sheathing myself in front of her. “I’m not risking getting you pregnant.”

  Not in our culture. Not when an unwed pregnancy between demons ended with them getting their heart ripped out and the mother and the baby killed. Even with Tensley on the throne now, the rules wouldn’t change so suddenly. It would take years to change Fallen’s reign.

  I pressed against her opening and watched as I entered her, my thick cock spreading her tightness, straining against it.

  “So fucking tight,” I hissed, sweat pooling on my brow. “Are you a virgin?” I paused, looking up at her flushed features.

  “No,” she whispered, arching her back the farther I went into her heat.

  “Still as tight as one,” I said, my finger going to her
clit, rubbing it.

  “It’s been a while for me.”

  When I was fully seated inside of her, I leaned forward. Bruised and sweaty, I towered over her. My eyes scanned her, getting lost in her tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and the way her pouty mouth parted as she watched me above her. Like I was a god to her. I lowered my face, kissing the corner of her mouth, feeling it tremble at the contact.

  “You pretend to be sour,” I told her, tracing the tip of my nose along her cheekbone, my breath trailing after. “But you’re so sweet.”

  She breathed heavily out, her hands gripping my forearms.

  In the most fucked up way, we were built for each other.

  Her hungry soul; my sick, twisted heart.

  I gave her myself—one inch after the other, and she drank me in—towering over her, all muscles flexing as I invaded her temple, her body.

  I thrust into her, not slow, and it wasn’t gentle.

  “You’re squeezing me so tightly, Alexandra, see?” I grabbed her left thigh and shifted it up, pressing it between our chests, and looked back at my pelvis slamming against her own, watching my cock disappear within her.

  I let her see me enter her—slowly and deeply, each time earning a soft mewl.

  “Too deep?”

  Her fingers bit into my ass cheeks, pulling me closer. “Deeper.”

  I looked down at her, seeing the spark in her eyes. A challenge. A battle. One I wanted to conquer and devour. “Fuck you,” I hissed lowly, lowering my hips at a new angle and with one thrust, she cried out—in shock—in pleasure and pain.

  But her fingers only dug deeper and I moved deeper inside of her warmth.

  Each thrust was a battle between us—a challenge, a war to destroy each other. And I wanted to win. I wanted to earn her cries, her moans. She twisted beneath me, her pussy convulsing around my cock and she lifted her head back, moaning, crying out for my soul.

  I caught her mouth and she devoured me.