Page 30 of Scent of Desire
“This one.” I indicated the precious gem with my finger.
LaMouette reached for it with his transparent gloves before giving it to me. I let the small diamond fall inside my palms, holding it carefully as if it were a fragile beating heart—in a way, it felt like having the key to Radcliff’s iron heart.
“Then, this is yours,” Radcliff stated, and my eyes widened on him.
“What jewel would you like to be made with it?” LaMouette asked. “Necklace, bracelet, ring?”
“I’m not sure I—” I entrapped the heart into my palm, a smile curving my lips under their perplexed stares. “Something that doesn’t alter the stone. I want to wear it this way. It’s perfect in its own way. Honest, just as it is.”
Radcliff’s gaze traveled to the diamond I was clutching close to my heart. “LaMouette, you can leave now.”
The diamond expert gathered the other diamonds, taking care to pack them away carefully, and neither Radcliff nor I unhooked our gazes from each other. The air between us swiveled into a macabre dance, which would resuscitate all the skeletons of the neighboring cemeteries.
“It fits you well,” Radcliff dropped, referring to the gemstone, his low voice edging with forbidden desire.
“Because it’s flawed and imperfect,” I sighed, enclosing my diamond inside the small dark velvet box LaMouette had posed on the desk.
LaMouette grabbed the box, nodding at us one last time before slipping out of the room, and the tension between Radcliff and me exploded freely.
“No,” Radcliff corrected, eyebrows pinching together. “As you said before, it’s perfect in its own way. It’s reflecting light with a potential for darkness. Beautiful and…” A hint of a smile lifted his lips, while with the tips of his fingers, he extinguished the flame of a candle, which turned to smoke. “Complicated, despite that pink-heartprincessfacade. One that many can’t understand its true nature and wants.”
But he could. He could speak to my soul in a language of his own. My finger brushed the length of the table, my teeth tugging on my lower lip. “And which gemstone would you be if I’m the pink diamond?”
“The rock. Probably the coal or the iron.” He blew out another candle so that only the dim light of a lamp remained.
The smoke curled out in the room like a velvet-clad cloak of dark omens, smelling of a pantomime of devilry and prayers inside a cathedral. Chills spread. He did it on purpose. By blowing out the candle, he had sprayed the scent of the oil, and he knew it’d magnetize my nose, leading me to the imaginary kingdom of his choice.
I ventured across his office, the refined shades of black drawing me closer to his world. “I disagree with you. I may not know about rocks, but I do know about perfume and—” I inhaled the murky scent of coal, amber, and tuberose. “You’re no coal nor iron.”
Radcliff loomed in my direction. I could feel his presence following me like a shadow watching over me as I gazed out of the enormous window. I peered at the depravation inside his club of elite guests, my breath misting the glass.
“If diamonds were to be a perfume,” I started, closing my eyes, “it’d be a base note of wood smoke from the way they’re born from a chunk of coal. They are molded by the darkness and burned to grow, so I’d add an amber and vanilla scent. Brought to hell through a volcanic eruption, the smell of tobacco and sandalwood would fit perfectly coupled with the softness of a rose in a message of hope for the hardest stone on earth.”
“Your point.” His voice was like poppy tears sending me into a dreamlike and hypnotic state.
I slammed my eyes open, encountering Radcliff’s reflection on the window from behind me. Only darkness accompanied him, trying to engulf him into the void. But he emerged from the dark like a fallen god.
“Don’t you see?” I smiled. “You’re the diamond in the rough.”
Lily was playing with hellfire.
She had worn the black onyx dress and had, in doing so, chosen her side. She had played my game, and as a consequence, everything about her was a constant frustrating temptation. My dick hardened just at the sight of that flower goddess swimming in my element. Thirsty for every unholy thing with her.
Her fingers delicately grazed my window glass, her naked back exposed to me. I was ripping the infernal crimson flowers and the black fabric apart with my eyes, hoping the tissue could melt into ashes. It was a torture I’d inflict on myself over and over again. I cracked my knuckles, my urges washing over me like a hot tide. An unbreakable spell.
Lily then made the wrong choice of peering upon the cameras in my club. Horror consumed her eyes at the view of what was happening inside the dungeons—orgies and fetishism. She backed off from it like it was a toxic smell to her. Her face was ashen, and she swallowed her questions away, attempting to maintain a cool expression.
“You shouldn’t watch that.” I tensed, approaching her.
She faced me, her heartbeat leaping in her throat. “Do you?” She paused. “Do you enjoy that?”
I had better things to do than watch them. If nothing else, all of them were despicable to me and inspired only repulsion. All of that creation was for a bigger purpose than desire. Club 7 was a matter of personal revenge.
“I’ll take pleasure in everything with you.” That was the truth. She was my sin, and she had to pay the consequences for having awakened the worst of my remaining mortality. One that sought domination, possession and had a constant hunger. “I’ll never share you—you’re mine—but…” I towered over her, an arm on the window next to her head. “If I would have to lay eyes upon them, it’d be to punish them after they’ve watched me possessing you.”
“I thought you never liked an audience.” Her voice was edged with excitement and fear.
I brushed my mouth to her nape. “Not when they’ll worship what is mine, but for now…”
