Page 40 of The Darkest Gift

Once he's secured, Elijah tilts his head, a wry smile playing at his lips. "I think I'm starting to see the appeal of this whole '12 Days of Christmas' thing," he drawls, "Though I have to say, your interpretation is a bit more... intense than the traditional version."

I arch an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden playfulness. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

Elijah shrugs as much as his restraints allow. "Well, for one thing, I don't recall 'four sharp knives' being part of the original song. Though I suppose it has a certain ring to it. So, what's the plan for day five? Five golden cock rings? I’m surprised your previous guests haven’t spilled your secrets."

A slow smile spreads across my face, but it's not the friendly, amused expression Elijah might be expecting. No, this smile is darker, predatory. It's the smile of a shark that's scented blood in the water.

"Oh, Elijah," I purr, reaching into my pocket. "Dead men tell no tales. And you should know by now that we're full of surprises."

Before he can react, I pull out a syringe filled with clear liquid. In one swift motion, I press the needle to his neck and depress the plunger. Elijah's eyes widen in shock and fear, a gasp escaping his lips as the drug enters his system.

"What... what did you..." he gasps.

I step back, a slow smile spreading across my face as I watch the drug take effect. "Oh, don't worry, pretty boy. You're going to love this one."

Elijah's breathing quickens, his pupils dilating as the drug begins to course through his system. I can see the confusion and apprehension in his eyes, warring with the sudden flush spreading across his skin.

"You see," I continue, my voice low and seductive, "that company you filed the injunction against? They've been experimenting with some... off-the-books pharmaceuticals and your injunction reminded me of that. And this little beauty?" I hold up the now-empty syringe. "It's like a nuclear aphrodisiac."

Elijah's body begins to tremble, fine tremors running through his muscles as the drug takes hold. His cock, which had been soft, begins to harden at an alarming rate.

"It makes you so hard, so horny, that you'd do anything for a fuck," I purr, watching with fascination as Elijah's arousal grows visibly. "The kicker is, it lasts in your system for five hours."

A low moan escapes Elijah's lips, sweat beads on his forehead, his skin flushing a deep pink. A blank look flashes across his face for a second before it's washed away in a sea of need.

"Now, I don't know how long it will take to lodge this appeal," I muse, checking my watch. "So you only have yourself to blame for what comes next."

Elijah's eyes, now dark with lust, lock onto mine. "Please," he gasps, his voice rough with need.

I chuckle wickedly, reaching out to trail a finger down his chest. Elijah arches into the touch, desperate for more contact. "Oh, I know exactly what you need," I purr. "But I'm afraid I can't stay to help. After all, I have an appeal to file."

With that, I turn and walk towards the door, Elijah's desperate pleas echoing behind me. As I reach the threshold, I pause, looking back over my shoulder.

"Don't worry, pretty boy," I call out. "I'm sure Iris will take good care of you while I'm gone."

The last thing I see before I close the door is Elijah, bound to the cross, his body trembling with need, his eyes wild with drug-induced lust. It's an image that will stay with me all day, fueling my own desires as I navigate the mundane world of legal proceedings.

As I make my way down the stairs, I can't help but smile. Today promises to be very interesting indeed.

Chapter 23

Elijah

Fuck it.

Chapter 24

Elijah

As Mason's footsteps fade away, the full force of the drug slams into me like a freight train. Every nerve ending in my body ignites, a raging inferno of desire consuming me from the inside out. My skin feels impossibly tight, hypersensitive to even the slightest breeze. The cool metal of the restraints against my wrists and ankles sends shivers racing through me.

I strain against the bonds, not to escape, but seeking more contact, more friction, more anything to soothe the aching need building within me. My cock is painfully hard, throbbing in time with my racing pulse. Pre-cum leaks steadily from the tip, trailing down my shaft in glistening rivulets.

A low, guttural moan escapes my throat, a sound I barely recognize as my own. My hips buck, seeking contact that isn'tthere. The emptiness is maddening, my body craving to be filled, to be used, to be fucked within an inch of my life.

Through the haze of lust clouding my mind, a tiny part of me marvels at the potency of this drug. In all my years of experimentation, I've never encountered anything quite like this. The intensity of it is almost frightening, my usual iron control slipping away like sand through an hourglass.

If Mason had stuck around for just a few moments longer, he would have seen it. The mask I've worn for so long, carefully constructed and maintained, cracking under the onslaught of chemical-induced desire. He would have seen the feral beast that lurks beneath the surface, the one I've kept caged and hidden for years.

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