Page 10 of The Dame & the Devil

“You say you’re wicked, little fool…. Should we put that to the test?”

He draws one clawed finger down the front of my dress and it splits the fabric as though it’s scalpel sharp.

When his hand reaches my navel, both sides of the fabric slither to the floor in a blood red pool.

Naked before the Devil, I should probably feel some shame or embarrassment.

All I want is for his hands to draw over me the way his eyes do.

But those nightmarish eyes snag to a stop when they reach my left thigh.

The names written there in tight black script travel from the top of my thigh down to my knee in four compact columns.

“What is this?” His hand runs over my skin and the dark ink. “Has my fool made a list of all the people she wants to die?”

“I want them to suffer eternally. They don’t have to die.”

His gaze rises from the names to meet my eyes. “Is that what you would want in return for giving yourself to me? To punish these people….”

“At the very least.”

“And at the most?”

My gaze drops to his lips and I smile, because I know that what I’m about to say is impossible.

“An unholy union.”

One brow rises, and he looks at me as though I don’t know what I’m asking. “The right hand of the Devil is no place for a saint… not even one as wicked as you.”

I can’t tell him he’s wrong. How would I know?

When his gaze goes back to those names, he says, “But that we can take care of… later.”

The webs draw me back like a marionette, and I tip and tumble as more grab hold of my ankles.

Drawn back onto a bench I hadn’t seen, I flinch at the too soft velvet wrapped over a hard surface.

The cords of webbing twist me back and tie me down, and it doesn’t take me long to know beyond any shadow of a doubt that I won’t be able to get free on my own.

I’m bound to this table for him, spread open for him to feast.

“Sweet little fool.” His shadow falls over me, and with it, an aura of warmth. “Do you still want to play this game?”

“It’s not a game.” Not for me.

But still, I flinch when he presses his warm palm to my stomach, and again when he slides one finger through my wet pussy.

“Your cunt drips for me.” He glares at his slick, dark finger and draws it to his mouth. “Do you want this cock that badly?”

He drags the rough pad of his thumb over my clit and I gasp my response. “Yes.”

Clucking his tongue, he shakes his head. I don’t know if it’s in disapproval or disbelief.

He turns the hand that’s on my stomach and a snake slithers from between his fingers. “How much pain does the little fool like?”

The snake winds its way up my stomach and past my ribs. I watch it split, bisecting half way down its body. Two heads moving away from each other to climb up my breasts.

“I like enough.”

---