Page 31 of Devious Delusions

But now? Now, I go further, making her choke on her deceit as I fuck her hand and the old memories mix with all the ones we’ll create while she sleeps beside her husband.

Without me forcing her to, she brings her other hand between her legs. Such a fucking selfish bitch. Even this has to be about her, and I speed up, needing to ruin her release. Her pussy is swollen—clit too—but the gagged moans vibrate through my hand as I push my fingers into her throat. Her stomach convulses, eyes rolling back, jaw dropping open.

Every muscle in my body pulls taut as she blinks and tears shine against her lash line like hard-earned jewels. Such a beautiful wreck. It’s the sight of her that undoes me as I push my fingers further and grab her wrist, so she doesn’t obstruct my cum marking her cunt as mine.

It drips from her mound, her inner thighs, clinging to her soaked lips, and she still fucking moans.

Pulling my fingers out of her mouth, I wipe her spit on her cheek as I wait for my knees to strengthen. Anger is the only thing keeping me standing as I peel her hand off me. It dropsto the bed with a thud, and I tuck my dick away before I do something stupid like trust her mouth again.

She has spit and cum on her, yet she’s still my beautiful Delilah with bright sparkling eyes staring up at me.

I have to remind myself of her sins as I hold my hand over her mouth. Taking the needle from my back pocket, I watch her eyes widen. Her fight comes back as I push the protective cap off the sharp point with my thumb and she grabs my wrist, attempting to push me away.

“Careful,” I warn. “You don’t want your husband to wake up, do you?”

As though she’d forgotten about the prick, her eyes dart to the side. More tears form and I press the sharp point into her outer thigh. I lean over her, blocking the errant rays of the moon coming through the glass.

I whisper, “10…9…8…”

Her fight is weak, and she only manages to claw at my covered chest.

“7…6…5…”

The material barely bunches from the force.

“4…3…2…”

Her lashes flutter and her fingers slowly trail down my chest.

Lowering further, I turn her head so my lips are by her ear, as I finish, “You’ve always known me, koukla mou. I’m the voice in the back of your head.”

Her arm falls limp over the edge of the bed, and I dig my fingers into her cheeks to test that she’s not lying.

CURSED

DELILAH 18 YEARS OLD

My mind is groggy, and my tongue is too heavy for my mouth. There’s spit running from the corner of my lips, but I can’t move my arms. Even my legs are shackled. The days have run together, and I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped in this hospital for.

Well, it’s not really a hospital. It’s the place people like my uptight, image-obsessed, cunts for parents send their undesirable children.

The Lerouxs can’t have anything tarnish their shiny image. Not when everyone said they were cursed after two out of three of their children ran away, never to be seen again.

Especially not when their final daughter, their last golden ticket, decided to set their world on fire and ruin their business with the Kobalts by killing their nephew. Pain slices through me. It’s so visceral that I can feel the dagger of all the emotions cutting through my flesh and bone.

The sedative is wearing off.

Rubber-soled shoes squeak outside of my dark hospital room. The walls are all plain concrete and even the air smells wrong. I turn my head to look out of the dirty windows to the only source of light coming from a security light further away. It’s not strong enough to fully illuminate my room and the door doesn’t have a window, so it only allows a thin strip at the edges.

The glass pane is broken up with bars like a gallery wall into crazy.

Would people watch me strapped to a bed and drooling while I’m forced to lay in my own piss? Would it be entertaining to them? Do my parents stand there and reflect on how venomous their DNA is?

A dry laugh works up my sore throat at that thought and the memory of Scarlet’s last conversation.

“Guess what, Dilly?” she asked.

Always Dilly, never Delilah with my sisters. The name is there in my mind, trying to tell me there are people who care.

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