“Zat’s a good boy. Come here, now. I’m not mad at you anymore.”
He felt her touch him with fingers still wet from her own body. He opened his eyes to see Olga’s blue ones close, begging for forgiveness. How could he reject her after what they’d shared? He leaned his head forward and kissed her lips. Her sigh filled his mouth, along with the sweet taste of her pussy. Ah, this was heaven.
A whip cracked from across the room, and his eyes opened wide. Olga smiled against his lips. Fire flamed in a heavy iron forge, and he could see Helga standing with her legs spread apart. Her head and face were covered with a leather mask, and Jay groaned. He was wrong.
This was Hell.
* * * * *
Steam rose to cover the mirror.
Hayley turned the hair dryer around, letting a rush of air hit the glass. No luck. This place was a virtual hot house. If this was Hell, it had at least one thing going for it: there was no lack of warm water. The shower she’d taken had been straight from Heaven. She laughed, not sure her priest would care for her humor.
She turned the dryer off and opened the door to the bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the bed. Sheets lay crumpled and twisted; pillows were strewn about the room. The bed stood empty, but the memory of Dante’s arms, strong and warm, wrapped around her when she’d awakened during the early morning hours, reassured her about what she’d let him do to her the night before. She’d snuggled close against him and fallen back to sleep, experiencing a sense of protection she had never felt with another man.
Let? She snorted. He’d taken everything she’d given, and he hadn’t been gentle in the acquisition of his desires. Her cheeks flushed. She’d loved every second. He seemed to know what she craved but had never felt comfortable enough to tell any of her past lovers. The extent of her sex life had been spent in the missionary position. Boring!
Dante had fulfilled her secret fantasy to be dominated. She’d experienced a little hurt when she discovered him gone this morning, but she couldn’t afford to be upset over his disappearance. She sighed. One-night stands were probably commonplace to a man like him.
She looked at her watch on the counter and wondered what time it was. There weren’t any windows in Dante’s apartment. With those manuscripts, he must be afraid of a robbery.
She shook the watch, but the timing mechanism had locked on midnight. Her hand stilled. They’d come into the club at midnight.
You’re being ridiculous. There was no way she was in Hell. All that garbage last night had been a trick to get her into Dante’s bed. He must use it often, because everything had been perfectly staged and timed after she’d taken a few sips of the beer.
She frowned, remembering the episodes of dizziness and the nightmares. Had the beer been drugged? Uneasiness tugged at the back of her mind.
When she got dressed, she’d find a phone and call a cab. Jay would be sound asleep at home by now. Funny -- out of the two of them, she was the one who hadn’t been so anxious to get laid. She’d come because he’d talked her into another one of his harebrained schemes. Hayley couldn’t count the number of times she’d tagged along to be the one to bail the other out of trouble.
She sighed and placed the watch back on the counter. Her reflection caught her attention, causing her to lean forward and study her face. She looked different, but ... better.
Humph. If this is what a night of great sex did for you, no wonder Jay was always looking for the right woman.
She ran a hand through her mass of hair and watched it fall against her shoulders in the mirror. The luster of her hair shone brighter. Her hand went to her face and traveled down her throat to her breast. Her skin looked smoother, flushed from her shower, but that wasn’t all. She felt different. Her body tingled with a new awareness.
Her eyes narrowed. She watched her hand lower across her abdomen to her pubic hair. Her clit, pink and swollen, peeked at her from beneath dark curls. When her fingers touched the swollen nub, she gasped. Glancing back to her face, her eyes darkened with the memory of how she’d become so sore. She smiled. Her mind raced on to cover other details she’d almost forgotten when she’d awakened. She groaned.
Dante had brought her to orgasm so many times, she’d lost count. God, what a mouth. What hands. He’d held nothing back in bed. Even his tough-guy routine turned her on. He’d scared her at first, but when the heat of his mouth had touched her through her jeans, she’d known he could show her the kind of sex she’d only fantasized about in the darkness of her room. She’d given in and let him take control to lick, kiss, suck, and caress her like a bitch in heat.
Her skin and clit tingled, and her nipples hardened. Hayley closed her eyes to remember every detail from the previous night. She might never get this kind of sex again, but at least she could enjoy her fantasies when she thought of him.
She moaned and studied her reflection through half-closed eyes. Her mouth parted in anticipation as her forefinger dipped into the soft curls covering her clit. Her fingers came away wet. She rubbed the nub the way he’d flicked his tongue ring across her -- quick, once or twice, then hard, with a pressure that made her squirm. Hayley opened her eyes to stare at her reflection.
Oh, my God. That couldn’t be her.
She wiped the moisture from the mirror. Her hair, tangled and wild, clung in damp red strands to her face. Her eyes were ... green ... and bright with desire and pleasure. Her lips were fuller, poutier. She looked like every man’s wildest wet dream.
A voice inside her head demanded she continue what Dante had started last night. Give me pleasure.
The voice wanted pleasure from her thoughts, but also pleasure from herself. She thought of Dante’s touch as she pinched her nipples between her own forefinger and thumb, alternating between the two peaks. Her other hand moved between her legs, and two fingers pumped into her vagina the way Dante had worked her the night before. Her thumb pressed her clit.
“Nooo ...”
Hayley stared with both disgust and excitement at the image before her, but she couldn’t stop. There were two sides of her fighting, and excitement won. She closed her eyes and pinched a turgid nipple as her hand pumped harder until her climax hit.
“Yes!” Her high-pitched scream filled the tiny room, and her muscles clenched against the spasm attacking her body. Her knees gave way to leave her slumped on the floor, her fingers, dripping with her juices, still engulfed by her body.
Hayley leaned her head against the cabinet and felt the sting of tears on her face. This wasn’t her. She didn’t act like this. Sex was not the all-powerful, all-consuming focus of her life. She was smarter than other women, who needed the act of sex or self-gratification to feel complete. Her life was perfect the way it was.
Wasn’t it? Her knees still felt weak, but she managed to pull herself up. A pale face, blotched with tears, stared at her from the mirror, and the spark of enthusiasm in her eyes from earlier had disappeared to be replaced with doubt. She had to leave here before she let herself get too involved with a man who brought out a wild need in her she had always hidden behind layers of self-control.
Dizziness hit, forcing her to grab the edge of the counter. Above her, the lights on the vanity crossed in her vision, and her mouth watered with the need to vomit. On shaky knees, she made her way to the toilet and knelt beside the ceramic bowl. The throb of her temples told her the headache had returned, and she rocked forward with the effort to keep her eyes open.
A sharp jab of pain shot across her head; she retched into the bowl. A hum and a beeping sound echoed in the distance, with the hum getting louder. She’d heard the noise last night, but Dante had eased the pain that had accompanied it.
“Go away,” she whispered and covered both ears with her hands. Her balance lost, she curled her body against the floor. The coolness of the stone helped lessen the pain, and she forced herself to lie still even though she experienced a fright beyond any she’d ever known -- the fear of death.
Chapter Six
>
“Mistress!”
Large hands turned her, but Hayley couldn’t open her eyes to see who it was. Her mind was too fuzzy to recognize the voice. She didn’t know how long she’d lain on the cold floor.
“I will take care of you, Mistress.”
Hayley felt massive arms around her, carrying her like a baby, and she realized this had to be Gar. For such a big creature, he was gentle when he laid her on the bed and pulled the covers around her naked body.
A door creaked, and Hayley could hear muffled voices, but she didn’t try to understand what they were saying. The effort drained what little energy she had left. A cool cloth touched her skin, and she jumped, but settled as the dampness eased her head. One thought resounded through her mind.
“Gar, I-I need to go home.” She pulled the cloth from her eyes and squinted against the pain. “Will you help me get ready and call a cab?”
“You cannot leave the master. He has only now found you again after so many years of being alone.”
What is he talking about? She’d never met Dante before. The big guy must have her confused with someone else. “I really need to get home.”
He patted her hand. “You are home, Mistress. We have all missed you for so long. It will be like the old days, now that you are back.”
Hayley pulled her hand free. “What are you talking about? I don’t know you or Dante. Last night was my first time here.”
She forced her eyes wider to see Gar’s face. The giant looked at her with warmth and pride in his eyes. He thought she was someone else. The image of herself in the mirror flashed through her mind, and her hand tightened around the sheet she held against her chest. The reflection hadn’t been her, but, then ... it had. She eased up on one elbow, careful not jar her head with a sudden movement.
“Who do you think I am, Gar?”
A knot formed in her stomach. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but had to ask. Gar’s answer was the key to these bizarre events happening to her. If he thought she was someone else, then Dante most likely did, too. The realization that he’d been having sex with someone else in his mind, while he was with her, hurt.
“You are Lilith, queen of demons.” He stood straighter, and his voice rang with conviction. “Wife to our master, Samael.”
Hayley rubbed her arms to rid her skin of the spider sensation crawling over her. She shook her head. “N-No, you’re wrong. My name is Hayley Beatrice Thomas. I’m no demon, and definitely not anyone’s wife.”
Gar went down on one knee and took her hand in his. His movement was so swift, she moved back against the pillows.
“Yes, it is you. You are the beautiful Beatrice my master loved so much during his second stay on earth in human form.”
“You just called me Lilith.” She jerked her hand back. “Make up your mind.”
“No, no, you do not understand.”
He’s got that right. She didn’t understand what he was saying. Everybody here was crazy. Second stay on earth. She was hallucinating. Her fingers massaged her temple where the headache had turned into a dull throb.
Hayley wrapped the sheet around her sarong-style and stood up. Her gaze followed the trail of her clothes over the floor of the room. She hoped the man in front of her didn’t wonder how they’d gotten there.
“You are Lilith, but you are Beatrice, also.”
Gar followed her around the room. When she picked up a garment, his eager hands took each away and folded them into a neat pile, placing the garments in the crook of his arm. Hayley spotted her silk thong twisted into a knot. She quickly jerked it out of his reach.
She couldn’t remember how Dante had gotten her jeans off, but she could still feel his teeth and lips against her skin when he’d stripped the thin material from between her legs with his mouth. The thong was a little too personal to let Gar handle.
“How can I be both women, and myself?”
Gar went still, and his expression grew confused. “I-I do not know, my queen, but I do know you are all three. I recognized you when you came to the bar, as did several others of the demons who have served the master for years.”
Hayley thought of the werewolf and knew Gar believed what he told her, but she was tired of all the games. When she caught up with him later, Jay was going to get an earful for talking her into coming to this place.
“And I thought your master was Dante. You just called him Samael.”
“He is one and the same, but not reincarnated like you.”
“What?”
Gar moved his hands in an agitated manner in front of his chest.
“The master was first the Creator’s most favorite and beautiful angel, Samael, but he fell victim to lust for the human woman Eve. For that he was cast out into Hell, where he ruled for thousands of years with his wife, Lilith. He pleaded his case to the Lord, and He gave him and Lilith a second chance, as humans. That was when he was born as Dante, but he stayed as beautiful and knowledgeable as before.”
Gar dropped his hands and hung his head.
“But it was not to be. The reincarnation of Lilith, in the form of Beatrice, tempted him again, and the Creator threw him back into the pit of Hell, with no hope of redemption. Here he has ruled, alone, for several hundred years.”
“Amazing.” Hayley could only shake her head at the sincerity in Gar’s voice as he told the story. She came out of the trancelike state and reached for her sock, dangling from Dante’s lamp.
“Jay, you’re a dead man,” she said beneath her breath.
* * * * *
Dante climbed the thirteen stone steps, approaching the gate and the front part of the club. The iron mass remained locked during the light of day. The souls of the damned were only accepted at midnight.
He waved his hand, and the iron hinges creaked as the gate opened, allowing him passage. His mouth drew tight at the knowledge that his powers were stronger with Dis on the loose.
“You are going into the light, Master?”
Dante stopped, but didn’t look back. The voice belonged to Talos. “Yes.”
“How long will you be gone?”
The question held a nonchalant sound, but Dante wasn’t fooled. Talos was in league with Zeus. The two were plotting something, and Hayley was the key. A muscle clenched in his jaw, but he held his suspicions to himself. He couldn’t afford to have Talos informing Zeus of his whereabouts.
“Not long. There’s an old soul I need to speak with.” He continued his stride, then decided to give the brass man a warning. He turned his head to show his profile; the flames of Hell gleamed across his arm.
“Guard the gate well, Talos. No one is to enter or leave until I return. I would hate to come home and find what belongs to me missing or ... injured ... in any way.”
Metal creaked as Talos acknowledged the warning. Dante bit back a smile at the idea of the brass giant being nervous. The only person who’d ever affected Zeus’s creation had been Medea, but that had been a long time ago.
“I hear and obey, Master.”
The gates of Hell slid shut behind him, the sound echoing throughout the massive entrance hall. Dante stepped into the sunlight and lifted his face, closing his eyes against the brightness. His nostrils flared with the breath of fresh air into his lungs. Times were rare these days when he took the opportunity allowed him to walk in the daylight. The experience brought back too many bad memories, but early morning had always been his favorite time.
Most humans were asleep, and the streets were quiet. The constant noise, heat, and lack of privacy in his infernal home made these solitary hours more special. No time to waste today, though. He snapped his fingers, and a lone cab stopped in front of him. At his approach, the door opened and Dante climbed in.
“Take me to The River Styx.”
The cabby turned to him with the nub of a cigar between his teeth. Thin, acrid smoke swirled around his sunshades, hanging low on a wide nose. Black, beady eyes appraised Dante. With a snort, the man turned and accelerated, mumbli
ng under his breath.
“Thinks he’s some kinda god or somethin’, snappin’ those fingers.”
Dante’s eyebrow rose, but he ignored the man. This one was coming to him soon enough. No need to waste energy on him now. Wisps of the cigar smoke and the man’s body odor wafted to Dante’s nose. With a cough, he rolled his window down halfway. He’d smelled better scents in the cesspits in the depths of Hell. With that thought, a picture of Hayley appeared in his mind.
The warm, rose-tinged smell of her skin filled his mind. When he’d been between her legs, the musky scent of her cunt had given him a rush. She was just as he remembered Lilith and Beatrice to be, but different. He gazed out the window as his hair feathered back from the rush of wind against his face.
Buildings and the occasional person flashed across his sight. The car sped to their destination, but he was oblivious to the view, which usually calmed his restless soul.
He had to get her out. She was still innocent. He had barely stopped Dis from taking her last night. The need to penetrate her body and take her soul had been hard to control, but he’d succeeded. This time. The longer she stayed with him, the stronger the temptation would be to claim her. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair.
Dis would win if she stayed, and take great pleasure in her initiation into the House of Purgatory. He’d show her every sexual deviation that had been invented since the dawn of time. Not only that, Dante thought, but the satan would be free again to torment the world with worse sins than the humans created for themselves.
And he’d have Lilith at his side to help. When Dis had teased him and finally relinquished control to Dante last night so he would be tempted by Hayley’s pleas to fuck her in the same positions Lilith had enjoyed, he had caught glimpses of his first wife. The thought of Lilith still made him ache with need.
Hayley’s personality might still be too strong to be affected, but Lilith was there, watching and waiting for any opportunity to escape the prison he had forced her into when he had been taken from earth that second time. Without Dis, she had died and been reincarnated into a new person.
Hot House: Dante and Hayley Page 7