Page 46 of Devil's Delirium

Dragging his wet finger back to my clit he played me like only a god could. The sounds coming out of me were created for porn videos, and this time they were real. I didn’t have to fake a thing. Then with a sharp thrust, he drove his cock in hard and pumped fast. I screamed in ecstatic gratitude that he’d finally given it back. He held onto my hips with a death grip, plowing into me hard, like I wanted. My core tightened as the pressure built more and more into an excruciating torture I’d never felt before.

Then he let go of my hair and wrapped his hand around my throat. “Ah, that’s right monstre, drain my cock, baby.” He thrust harder and deeper, like he was losing control. “Fuuuuuuck, come on my cock now! Do itnow, you hot little… fucking… cum slut...”

His command pierced through my soul, and I exploded right on demand. I screamed through the explosion in an endless moment of bliss.

My mind shattered, my throat burned raw, and I thought I might pass out. I thought death had come for me. Wave after wave of overwhelming rapture held me under as I convulsed for what seemed an eternity.

So much more extreme than any orgasm I’d had up till then.

Kneeling behind me, Reaper stroked my head and pulled me up on his lap against his chest. Trapped in a bubble with no time or place, we lay there, catching our breath. A haze of ecstasy enveloped me for a long moment, where I forgot who or where I was.

But eventually, thoughts returned, the room came back to me, I remembered the spirit that was watching, and my heart picked up in anxiety again.

Reaper languidly reached for our clothes, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, and gently wiped me up with it. He even helped me slip my T-shirt and leggings back on. When I was dressed, he took my face in his hands.

“You are… just exquisite, Tess.”

My mouth twitched, but then I noticed behind him a trunk with a box of matches and a gallon of gasoline on top. Reaper twisted around to see what I was looking at.

“It worked,” I whispered.

“Well, that was my kind of malicious task. We’re open to more deals,” he shouted at the ceiling.

I laughed and swatted him with the back of my hand. He reached for it, but I pulled away, and he dropped it. I pretended not to notice his brief frown. Together, we stood up and retrieved our items, glanced at each other and knew it was time to get the worst part done.

“Time to meet my maker.”

He growled. “It’s time for your abuser to meet his.”

Warmth blossomed in my chest, but I had to remind myself this was still a one-winner game. We couldn’t both leave this place. Even if we killed everyone else, once Ivan was eliminated, Reaper and I would have to face each other.

Chapter Thirty: Shadows of Light

Tess

I scanned the ballroomfor anything useful. Once a place of grandeur, now it was splattered with blood and debris, the air thick with dust and sex. I picked up a baseball bat from the cold, dusty floor and then spotted a faded backpack, worn with age, in an inky corner.

At the same time, Reaper snatched up the gasoline canister. The liquid sloshed around inside when he tossed it into the backpack I’d handed him. He slung the tattered strap over his shoulder, and I tucked the matches away in my pocket.

The hinges creaked in protest as we pushed open the grand double doors. The smell of smoke and distant fires hit us, joining with the metallic tang of blood and sweat.

As we turned to leave the ballroom, fluttering and distorted shadowsalong the corridor made it appear to writhe and twist, fucking with our heads. It was exactly the kind of thing I’d expected. But still, the hallway ahead, stretching and warping in surreal, disorienting ways, destabilized my footing.

With a dizzying sense of encroachment, the wallpaper undulated like waves. They were only illusions, I reminded myself. Curses, not reality. It still made my head spin.

With each step, the floor rippled beneath us, transforming solid ground into treacherous terrain. Reaper stumbled beside me, his usual steadiness faltering under the assault of the phantasmagoric corridor. His expression remained impassive, lending me threads of tenuous false hope. The air pressed in on us from all sides, and every breath felt like inhaling smoke.

Paintings on the walls morphed into grotesque, shifting faces, their eyes following us with an eerie, malevolent intelligence. They whispered and laughed, the sound slithering into my ears, making it hard to focus. I willed my heart to calm itself, but it was no use. The red lights from outside plunged us into brief moments of utter darkness, only to snap back on and reveal the hallway had changed once again, stretching longer or curving in impossible angles.

I kept my hand on the wall for balance, but even that seemed to writhe beneath my touch. My mind raced, trying to cling to reality, to remind myself that these were just illusions meant to disorient and terrify. They were working.

“Stay close, délicieux monstre.” Reaper’s voice was steadying, despite the chaos. His hand found the small of my back, the contact a lifeline, a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this nightmare. Not yet.

We drove forward by sheer willpower. I knew Ivan had to be somewhere. He would not have been killed yet. He was out there, waiting for me. The hallway was endless, each turn leading to more twisting, shifting madness. But my vision from earlier acted as a beacon, guidingme forward through the labyrinth, which proved to be every bit as horrible as I’d expected.

Finally, we reached a particularly distorted bend. The walls breathed in, the ceiling lowering menacingly, and never seemed to exhale. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on the image of the room we needed—the dusty, broken wood-paneled floor, the window to the left, and the fireplace straight ahead.

Panting and shaken, we emerged from the nightmare hallway into a grim antechamber. Shadows shimmered ominously as we made our way down the silent corridor, searching for Ivan. The air felt lighter, though still tinged with blood and dust. Anticipation was a tangible creature trying to escape from my chest.

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