Confessions of a Demon
Page 14
My body pulsed, sending a white- hot light flooding through me. My quick climax caught me by surprise, but I went with it, anyway. I tensed against him, and he moaned along with me, though his sound was more of yearning than ecstasy.
When I finally relaxed against him, my hand brushed his cock. He wasn’t touching himself. Through the waves of desire radiating off him, I followed the purple path of pain to its source.
He thought he deserved to suffer. He thought he wasn’t good enough for me.
That broke through my haze of pleasure. Questions hovered on my lips. How could he possibly think that? But shared secrets would only deepen our intimacy. It would bind him to me. I had to lure him on, and then reject him.
Still breathless, I pushed myself farther down the couch. I leaned back, spreading my legs slightly. My fingers stroked the silky dark hair on my mound. “I’d like to cash my check now, please.”
The scent of my flesh drifted up, moist from my arousal. The frank lust in his eyes was almost too much for me. I reached out for his hand, pulling it to me. His fingers found my clit, rubbing lightly across it.
I arched my back, my eyes closed, as he slid off the couch and moved between my legs. He kissed the inside of my knee, his lips hot against my skin, and trailed his mouth inward. I spread my legs wider. His palm burned across my thigh, searing me with his feelings; he wanted to join with me, become one with me.
He buried his face in my mound, as his hand held my belly, the very core of me. His other hand slid under my buttocks, lifting my hips. I writhed beneath him, crying out until it was too much.
He eased off to let me breathe as he kissed up to my belly button, then back down, teasing me until his lips brushed across my nub again. He flicked his tongue across me, refusing to let me squirm away as my orgasm built.
My fingers buried in his thick hair, tightening and pulling as he strained against me. It felt so good, like nothing I’d ever had before. Then all thought left as I abandoned myself to the pleasure.
My aura seemed to explode like a splintered prism.
When I finally relaxed, he drew away slowly, carefully, until I loosened my fingers in his hair. I must have hurt him; I had been tugging so hard. His breath was fast on my thigh, and then his warmth was gone. I heard him fall back on the rug.
When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with that now-familiar pained expression. His cock was still firm, jutting from his opened jeans, and from his flushed and heavy breathing, he seemed ready to die if he didn’t climax.
But he wasn’t making a move. He was lying there instead of trying to take me. How could I reject him if he didn’t pursue me?
I wanted nothing more than to pull him on top of me so he could drive himself deep inside of me. I wanted to be filled by him, get fucked insensible. I wanted to cuddle against him for hours, letting him touch me everywhere, kiss me everywhere.…
This isn’t working out quite like I planned.
It took every ounce of will for me to push myself to my feet. I took a few unsteady steps away, trying to think of something, anything to say. At least Dread had seen a thing or two if he was watching.
“That will be all.” I wanted to smack myself, it sounded so stupid. But my brain seemed to have stopped working.
He groaned in response.
Tottering over to the steps up to the loft, I sneaked a look back. He was still lying on the rug, one arm flung over his eyes. He was exposed by his open fly, his jeans splayed back over his belly, but he didn’t cover himself. He was twisting slightly as he shuddered, so primed and ready to release that he couldn’t contain himself.
I hurried, hoping he would at least masturbate. He deserved some relief, but I couldn’t give it to him. I had to push him away so he would be safe.
10
I didn’t even pretend to sleep. I was hoping Theo would come up to the loft so I could reject him properly. I didn’t bother lowering my voice as I called Revel to find out how Shock was doing; she was improved, though she wasn’t up and moving around much yet. She had come within a hairbreadth of being consumed.
Then I paced around the loft and turned on the television, making plenty of noise, waiting for Theo to make some kind, any kind of advance toward me so I could be a bitch. But a peek into the living room below showed that he had crawled back onto the couch and though he rolled every now and then, indicating his sleep was interrupted, he never tried to come upstairs.
It was frustrating. I wondered if I was being played. I could sense his true nature and there was nothing meek about it—he was a driven, balls- to-the-wall kind of guy. Why was he being so accommodating, so selfless? We met only last night; he couldn’t be that infatuated with me already. Could he?
Every emotion I felt in him said he was falling in love with me.
Theo got up with the streaks of dawn lighting the sky, and quietly puttered around the kitchen. This time I stayed quiet, as if I were asleep. I heard him fix some eggs, which he ate standing up at the counter; then he carried his second cup of hot tea into the bathroom.
I heard him take a shower in the hydro-chamber, turning on the jets full blast. I wouldn’t mind trying that, but not with him in the bathroom. Since I had flubbed it so badly last night, I didn’t want to risk trying the old bait-and-switch again. The cold shoulder was my safest choice at this point.
I waited until ten o’clock to come down. He was watching the sky over the city, sitting there patiently. The bruise on his cheek had darkened, but the smudge under his eye wasn’t as bad today. He was wearing the olive drab T- shirt again. His hair had curled tightly as it dried.
I could barely meet his eyes, I felt so guilty about using him. I should have been used to it by now, justifying myself with the pleasure I was giving him in exchange. Some men paid a lot of money to be treated this badly. But he didn’t want that, so it sucked in every way possible.
I wrapped the robe more tightly around me as I knelt down and rifled through the shopping bags. There were shiny, high-heeled shoes with tiny straps, and filmy dresses, some with plunging necklines and tight waists and others more conservative. I tossed them aside, digging deeper.
Theo held up some sheer silk hose I had dropped onto the floor. “Are you sure you don’t want these?”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in nylons.”
“They’re stockings.”
“Whatever.”
I grabbed a few things that looked like they would do, and headed to the bathroom. Theo had fixed some hard-boiled eggs and bacon, the aroma of which was drifting from the warmer, and I quickly scooped some onto a plate along with a banana. I gave him a quick wave as I disappeared into the bathroom. Then I flushed the food down the toilet.
I had chosen clothes that clearly weren’t intended to make an impression. My black hip-hugging slacks flared at the bottom over patent-leather Mary Janes, and my dark purple T-shirt had a scoop neck and cap sleeves. With my face sans makeup, as usual, and my hair spiky from being wet down, I looked the same as I did any other day at the bar. All I needed was a black apron and I was set.
When I emerged, Theo smiled. “You ain’t nobody’s ‘Pretty Woman,’ are you?”
For the first time I met his eyes, grinning in return. It was hard to push away a guy who got me so well.
“We’re the same that way,” he said with satisfaction. “I can’t handle people who depend on others to take care of them—who let someone else make the decisions. You don’t let yourself get jerked around.”
“Is that why you’re being so accommodating? You seem like you’re really dominant, but you haven’t tried to impose yourself on me at all.”
“I believe in dominating myself and my own desires, not others.”
I shivered. How could I not like it that he gave me exactly what I wanted? I was used to doing that for other people, not getting it from someone else. I could sense his aggressiveness, his desire to fix everything, and that sense of constrained power was very sexy.
There wa
s a polite knock on the door, and Theo went to answer it. It was Dread’s assistant, June, wearing traditional church-going garb, complete with heels, flowery dress, and gold cross with the distinctive flared arms of the Fellowship of Truth. Her long black hair was pinned back with crystal pavé dragonflies.
“Good morning—” June’s cheery greeting broke off when she saw the jumbled clothes and boxes on the floor. “Oh! I’ll call and have someone put these things away for you.”
“I’ll do it later,” I said.
June’s impossibly pert nose kept her from looking angry, but there was a line between her delicate brows. “No, really, I insist. The prophet would be upset if he knew I wasn’t taking care of you.” Unable to keep her eyes off the mess, June added, “The prophet is in the Evergreen Chapel. If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you both there.”
I glanced at Theo. “I’m sorry, but Theo has to be going now.”
“I don’t have anything else to do,” he said mildly. “I’d love to join your circle,” he added to June.
“We’d be glad to have you.” June sparkled in that special way petite, pretty women have. With her bangs and pink braces, she could have passed for fourteen. “Have you joined our circle before?”
“I’ve attended a time or two.” Theo was polite but not too friendly.
I butted in. “I really think you should be going now, Theo. I’ll call you later.”
June, focused completely on him, didn’t even glance at me. “Our circle is open, Theo. Feel free to join us before you go.”
He was looking at me instead of at her. “I think I will.”
I didn’t try to hide how angry I was. I should have kicked him out sooner, before June came, but who knew she would interfere? I thought it would be easier to send him on his way if we were both on the move.
As we walked through the hallway to the elevator, June chatted brightly about the Fellowship, explaining how it had transformed her life. Two years ago, she had decided to move to New York from Washington to devote her life to the truth. But the expert way she told her story indicated she wasn’t as green as she appeared to be. People probably trusted her instantly, figuring she was as defenseless as a kitten. But she couldn’t have survived as Dread’s assistant unless she was sharp and on her toes.
June addressed her remarks to both of us, and Theo responded nearly as infrequently as I did. But I noticed that June caught his eye a few times, smiling a little longer than necessary. It was done so deftly that she thought I didn’t notice.
The Evergreen Chapel was hung with sheer green draperies on every wall. On the far wall, a large gold cross was mounted in a niche much like an altar. The upright spindle was thin and pointed, but the arms flared like a Greek cross.
There was no sign of the concrete floors and exposed ducts that characterized the rest of the Prophet’s Center; instead, the recessed lighting cast a warm glow. Plush carpeting surrounded a dark green marble slab in the center. It was knee-high, vaguely coffin-sized, with rounded, polished edges. Many Fellowship circles were held without the altar, but in the very heart of the church they upheld tradition.
The distinct scent of incense seemed designed to subdue the clash of expensive perfumes in the room. There must have been two dozen people dispersed in small groups speaking quietly with one another. They were of various ages, a few nicely dressed couples, a clutch of employees and their families, and several young hipsters from the neighborhood. There were no other demons present, except for Dread, who was decked out in a very expensive charcoal suit.
When Dread saw us, he raised one hand, beckoning us over. I could sense his intense interest in me, even stronger than yesterday when I had connected with him. He ignored Theo as he greeted me. Did that mean he hadn’t seen what we did last night? Or had he seen us and was so coldly arrogant that he felt compelled to treat Theo as insignificant?
After all that, I was no closer to finding out if I had privacy in the loft. I needed to find a way to call Michael without anyone listening.
Dread immediately ushered me forward to the center of the room to stand next to the altar. In his sonorous prophet-voice, he announced, “I would like to introduce Emma Meyers, the friend I’ve told you about. She is very close to the spirit, so we must all encourage her devotions.”
I tensed up, feeling trapped in the midst of so many curious eyes, including Theo when he heard my real name. What was Dread doing? I tried to smile, but I must have looked alarmed.
June smiled and called out, “Welcome!” along with the others. I was soon surrounded by people greeting me and shaking my hand. They were excited to meet someone new who had been singled out by the prophet himself. Some were too eager, smiling too fiercely, talking too intently, and when I touched their hands, I could tell they were trying to woo me for their own purposes. I didn’t mind—greed and selfish desire were energy just like other emotions, only they didn’t taste as good.
My smile was rather fixed, and I kept my replies short in answer to their questions of where I lived, what I did, and what my bar was like. One of the younger, nice-looking men assured me that he would come by soon to check out the Den.
Theo shifted away to the outer edge of the room, keeping a low profile. June joined him, fingering the Fellowship cross at her throat. She asked him something, but they were too far away for me to overhear. She seemed to be flirting with him, moving her hips, leaning forward to touch his arm in emphasis.
Soon enough the circle was called and everyone joined hands around the slab of marble. I was even more shocked when Dread took my hand. I almost jerked away, but I didn’t want to completely alienate him.
It was a test. He didn’t try to feed from me, and I didn’t want to feed from him. He felt my wariness, my spike of anger at being forced to touch him, unable to refuse in front of everyone. He was taking his time searching me out, to see exactly what I was made of. A couple of times I almost called it quits and let go, but I had nothing to hide. I was suspicious of his motives, yet I needed his help. I also felt a deep sympathy with his need to rekindle himself; on the most basic level, we were in the same boat, and he couldn’t help but see that.
I consoled myself by absorbing the fanaticism pouring off the woman next to me. Cherie was a former supermodel, now in her mid-forties. She was rarely seen in print ads anymore. Cherie had found the Fellowship to great fanfare two decades ago when she was on top of the world, and she had been a celebrity fixture of the church ever since.
It looked like she’d had work on her face, and her makeup was too overdone, especially the foundation. Her arms were painfully thin, and I held her hand very gingerly as I skimmed off her devotion. She had plenty to spare. She was practically boiling over with faith.
The circle started with the chant. Each person said a word in turn, going clockwise around the circle, letting the different voices meld into each sentence. “Through freedom lies truth; through truth lies freedom.”
Theo and I alone were off a few beats. It went on for quite a while, changing in content but not substance, as I picked up the rhythm. Many of them became tranced by the circular speaking, rocking in time, their eyes rolling up into their head. It was classic group manipulation, reaching for the ecstatic, and right up Zeal’s alley. Zeal must have been attending a different circle.
I let Dread have the full brunt of my boredom as the circle wore on. He knew I was tolerating the proceedings like a circus horse being put through my paces. I would do whatever I had to in order to protect Shock, and if that meant I had to be polite and pretend to please his fanatics, so be it.
The one thing I really didn’t like was that Theo was across the circle holding hands with June. She appeared to be in rapturous delight. Theo met my gaze occasionally, letting his eyes crinkle. I kept telling myself to stop, that I was supposed to drive him away from me. But he was the only one who seemed to feel the same way I did.
I tried my best not to think about him, so Dread wouldn’t pick up on my feelings.
One young woman spoke about how she used to let boyfriends push her into doing things she didn’t want to do. She thought she had to always say yes in order to be loved, and through the church, she realized she had the personal responsibility to set limits for herself. Her voice broke a few times as she described the violence she had suffered, but she had been “uplifted” by the church and it had changed her. Now she was the one who decided what she did or didn’t do, and her life and career had blossomed as a result.
It seemed more like group therapy than a religious service, except for the mindless chanting. Even worse, I got the feeling they were trying to outdo one another to impress the prophet.
Then Dread asked if anyone needed to be sustained. One woman stepped forward, letting the circle close behind her. She had spoken earlier about her estrangement from her daughter, and had seemed miserable, unable to articulate a bright side to her troubles like the others. She went to the marble altar and lay down on it, her head at the end near the gold Fellowship cross on the wall.
Dread finally let go of my hand to step forward. It was such a relief. Now I could feed off both Cherie and the woman next to me, who was in a lot of pain from her lower back. Pain was a good thing to take, so I sucked it down, hoping to give her some relief, as well.