Page 11 of As Devils Love

As I didn’t know what to expect when I embarked on this venture, I’m surprised to see that her apartment is spotlessly clean. Everything in the living room has its place and is laid out neatly. If it wasn’t for the freshly wiped counter tops, I’d have thought she never used this space.

But Fiametta is daddy’s spoiled princess, and she probably has a score of maids who come in and out of this place to make sure it’s perfect for her.

Ignoring the spare bedroom for now, I head straight for the open door that sits between the dining table and kitchen counter. Although the combination of drugs I slipped into her drink has never failed me before, I still approach with caution. Every step I take carries the same wave of discomfort I felt when I first saw her. Unsteady heartbeat, pumping hot blood through my otherwise tepid body. And once more, it all seems to settle in my loins, forcing my cock to swell and stiffen uncomfortably in my jeans.

Her slow, steady breaths, accompanied by the occasional bout of light snoring, fill the otherwise silent void of her blackened room. It takes a moment for my night-eyes to kick in, as I travel from one corner of her room to the next. First, I find my way to the door leading onto the balcony, and test its lock. It slides open with the lightest of pulls. Makes sense. Why would she be concerned about someone getting in through it, when she’s on the fourth floor?

I creep along the tall windows on the far side of the room and inspect the window leading out to the fire escape. She’s smart enough to keep this one locked, but a quick look tells me it’ll be easy enough to slip something long and thin inside to unbolt the window if needed.

Her room doesn’t say much about her personality. Apart from the clothing monster growing in the corner, it’s minimalist and sparse. Even some of the items that are haphazardly placed on shelves are of no value in gaining an insight into who Fiametta is. There are no family photographs and no trinkets that carry real meaning, just things that are there for the sake of being there. Maybe that’s a look into her mind in itself. Maybe she isn’t bothered by material things.

As I am making my way back through the darkness, I nearly trip over the mountain of clothing piled up on the floor that I saw from the door. I stumble forward and catch onto a tall chest of drawers to stabilize myself, knocking everything atop it over in the process.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself with annoyance, rearranging the items to an upright position. I have no idea how it looked before, so here’s hoping Fiametta won’t think twice about it in the morning.

All those thoughts are stripped clean from my mind when I hear Fiametta utter a soft sound from behind me. I snap my head in her direction. The noise disturbed her but didn’t break her sleep.

Good. I haven’t been myself during this entire expedition, and I don’t want to resort to threats or violence to keep her calm. But now that I have her in my view, I can’t look away again. I’m drawn closer to her, this time giving the clothing monster a wide berth, until I’m standing right next to her sleeping body.

I kneel down beside her. I watch her thin, white duvet rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing. I listen to her soft coo andgentle snores. For a very brief, and fluttering moment, I could see myself enjoying this sight and these sounds for a lot longer than just tonight.

If Fiametta really was just an innocent stranger disembarking from the Sanctuary club for whatever reason, there might’ve been a chance at something more. What that means to a man like me, I can’t say.

Those pure thoughts leave as quickly as they came. To my great annoyance, it’s not my mind that insists I get back on track with my task, but my throbbing cock, which urges me to pull away her blanket. To strip her naked. To shove myself into her mouth to lube up, before I force my way into her tight little pussy.

I’ve never denied myself the pleasure before, so why would I now?

I run my gloved hand up over Fiametta’s body, making my way to the end of the blanket resting just below her neck. I caress the grooves and lines of her toned body, and my fingers come to a stop on the crest of her breast, lingering at the sensation of her already hard nipples poking through the blanket.

Fiametta lets out a soft humming noise while I stroke the sensitive bead. Only a few moments ago, I was glad she remained sound asleep. Now? I’d love for her to wake up. I would love to have her stare deeply into my eyes as I draw back her covering and have my way with her.

These thoughts inspire my next actions. My hand snaps to her duvet’s opening and I yank it off her body with such force, a gust of wind blows in my direction. Still, she doesn’t stir.

I was definitely heavy handed in my delivery of her dose. Not that I had much choice in how much was dropped in. There was a very narrow window between the barman’s collecting my bill and getting back so he could take the drink to Fiametta.

Oh well, I’m not going to let that ruin my fun.

As the duvet falls to the floor, I’m given my first up close and personal view of Fiametta Napoli. She is sleeping soundly, dressed in a pair of lacy black panties and an oversized T-shirt that rides up her body to expose the bottom of her tits.

I lick my lips and swallow a mouthful of saliva as my eyes glimpse the sweet spot between her legs. Digging my knee into the bed, I lean closer and breathe in the lightly sweet, vanilla perfume she’s wearing. It tickled a nerve in my brain while we were dancing earlier together, and now it makes my cock strain agonizingly against my jeans.

I trail the tip of my finger over her exposed belly, which prompts another noise from Fiametta. It’s an almost silent whimper, triggered by gently tightening muscles being tickled. Her body won’t be numb from my drug. I designed it with the goal of knocking my targets out but leaving them with enough sense of touch to feel my blade pierce their skin. After I understood how well it worked, it became my weapon of choice for every circumstance, including taking a woman I want, when I wanted her.

It wouldn’t be fair for them not to experience the pleasure I’m indulging in for myself.

With the positives, come the negatives. And in Fiametta’s case, too much of a good thing has put her in a deep sleep she won’t come out of until the drugs wear off. If I understood the chemistry better, I could synthesize it to be better in times like these. But that’s for the nerds in the lab to figure out.

And not to steal from Mark, but he said it best.

Killing is what I do, and buddy, I’m damn good at what I do.

My finger slips lower until it hooks the waistband of her panties. I move my free hand to join it, and slowly peel away the lace material. It’s too dark to see what I’m looking for, but that won’t stop my exploration. I brush the back of my finger along her now exposed skin.

Even through the glove, I can tell she’s smooth. Cleanly shaven for her night out, on the chance of getting lucky. If tonight goes well, she’ll never realize she did.

I come to a stop before reaching her clitoris. If anything’s going to get close to that little nub of joy, it’s going to be my mouth. I’m not wasting this first intimate touch to a glove.

I slot one hand between Fiametta’s thighs and the other against my cock to give it the attention it deserves for bringing me this far. I spread her legs apart.

---