She flinched at the smarting pain of the leather, and choked out a sob, bringing cheers from the evil men staring at her.
The man with the black tattoos seemed to shift uncomfortably, and her gaze drifted up to his face. His eyes were a shockingly bright green, iridescent lights in sharp contrast to his dark eyelashes. He held her gaze, and she couldn’t look away, furiously biting down on her lip to keep from whimpering as she stared up at him.
He stood quickly, tearing his focus away.
“Nephew,” Raden called after him, but he was already out in the mansion’s hall. The heavy door closed with a slam.
She tried to block out the sharp pain as the beating continued. Raden’s nephew. He had locked eyes with her for so long, practically hypnotizing her. He’d appeared a little lost in her gaze as well. Just before he’d stormed out. She couldn’t waste her energy on his peculiar reaction to her punishment. She shifted her thoughts back to their usual focus, escape.
* * *
Hours later, well into the night, Damian lay wide awake in his bed. Typically, he’d have been indulging in an assortment of sexual activities with several women of his choosing, an almost nightly ritual for him, but the slave witch still haunted his thoughts. Her deeply anguished gaze triggered something inside of him. Those shining blue eyes held some kind of significance.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was out of bed and pulling on his jeans. Shaking his head at his own ludicrous behavior, he downed a glass of whiskey from the bar in his bedchambers and headed for the door.
When Damian strode into the room, the witch was bent over the foot of Raden’s bed, tethered by a chain behind her neck that connected to her ankles, her wrists awkwardly bound behind her back.
Raden lowered the whip, eyeing Damian with concern. “What’s happened?”
She had to be Raden’s personal slave if he kept her in his chambers during the night. Fuck, this was not a good idea. But seeing the girl tied up in such a way while his uncle whipped her ignited a powerful reaction inside him. Damian used his mind’s power to release her bonds. The chains fell away from her, and she crumpled to the floor.
“I want this slave.”
Raden turned to him. “She is mine.”
“I want her.”
“You are a weak little boy compared to me, nephew. She is loyal only to me, and since she happens to be a witch, your most dreaded adversary, this is a poor decision on your part.” He snapped the whip at the floor beside her crouched body. “Sit up.”
She obeyed him. Raden jerked the ethereal white collar around her neck before taking it off.
“Put Damian on his knees.”
With quivering hands, she centered her shimmering powers toward Damian, keeping her eyes downcast.
He dropped to his knees under her will.
“This one is much stronger than Marybelle. These golden powers will easily melt your flesh off the bone, and she is mine to control. Burn his face, slave.” Raden shoved her forward. “Coming here tonight was a grave mistake, nephew. Our future dark lord, maimed by a slave. No creature in Hell will follow a weak, deformed leader, Damian.”
He kicked the girl, making her yelp. “I said burn him, witch!”
Shaking, she moved forward, taking a closer look at Damian as she slowly reached for his face.
Damian stared at the floor with clenched fists, unable to move under her spell. Her palms brushed the facial hair along his jaw, and something sparked at the contact. Drawing closer, she pressed her hands to his skin. He read her thoughts, and they ran black with fear. She didn’t want to burn him, but Raden leered expectantly at her.
A vision raced through her mind, intimately huddled in Damian’s arms. Images of herself running her glossy nails over his shortly buzzed hair, holding his face in her small hands.
Spurred by a strange longing, he turned his face into the witch’s palm, drawn to her warmth.
“Do it!” Raden startled the witch out of her trance.
She jerked her hands back and cowered low on the floor. Raden raised his harsh whip, and she trembled as her powers weakened.
Free from the firm restraint she had on him, Damian stood. He squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes at Raden.
“I am your future Master, Uncle. She belongs to me now, is that clear?”
Raden flashed him a murderous gaze and closed his jaw. “It’s clear.” He pivoted toward the door. “I’ll leave you with your new toy.”
When the door closed, Damian let out the breath he’d been holding. He had fucked up. He never should have taken on his uncle as an adversary, but something about this witch captivated him. He couldn’t ignore the impulse to keep her close, regardless of the risk.
Damian picked up the magical collar and knelt down beside her. “Lift your hair.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Haley wanted to cry at the gentle way her new Master spoke such hateful words. She dismally pulled her heavy curls off her neck as he clicked the collar closed around her throat.
He started for the door. “Follow me.”
She stayed at his heel, crawling behind him as Raden had taught her.
Damian stopped. “No.” He bent down and gestured for her to stand.
Haley rose on unsteady legs. Her beaten body hurt whenever she moved. She slowly struggled to walk beside him.
“I’m going to carry you.”
Haley flinched as his powerful arms lifted her off her feet. Shivering in his hold, she tried to relax her nerves as her new Master brought her out of the evil mansion. Exhaustion took control of her body, and she fell in and out of sleep, vaguely aware she was airborne, surrounded by red sky. The man still held her, though they seemed to be riding a winged creature of some kind. She wondered what new horrors awaited her as she drifted under.
She woke in a strange bed and sat up with a start. Candles lit the windowless room, lavishly furnished in dark, royal colors and, most importantly, empty. She was alone, at least for the moment, though the negative current in the air told her she was still in Hell. She reached for her neck and touched the wretched collar, still firmly attached. Memories of her new Dark Master flooded her mind. She pushed back the silk comforter and slid out of bed. Naked and dirty, deep cuts from the whip still covered her body, but the wounds had healed somewhat. How long had she been asleep?
She drifted toward a table full of delicious smelling food. Still hot. That fact sent a jolt of fear through her, but she chose to luxuriate in the moment. She spread butter onto a piece of steaming bread with a dull silver utensil and began to feel almost human again.
She walked into a large attached bathroom. A glass bottle sat beside the giant whirlpool bathtub. The distinctive blue liquid reminded her of a serum her brother, Stephen, sometimes used on open wounds when his healing powers weren’t enough. The glass topper clinked when she took it off, and she dabbed it onto the split skin on her thigh. It closed instantly, changing into a nearly healed strip of pink.
She turned on the faucet and poured it into the water, turning it a dark shade of blue-green.
After a long soak, her sore limbs began to revive. It was possible the new Dark Master allowed her to heal only to give her fresh wounds from his own hand.
To her amazement, there was a closet full of hanging clothes. Barely there dresses and skirts and countless pairs of high heels in her exact size. She went through a chest of drawers full of lingerie, all of it sheer or strategically placed to show off her private areas. She chose a soft, thin nightgown and slid into the transparent fabric.
Gloriously clothed, she grabbed a bite of seasoned chicken breast from the hot tray before sliding back into bed.
* * *
Damian moved his hands behind his head, resting on the wide piece of cushioned furniture in the sitting room. The black ceiling in his mansion stretched several stories above him. The witch had been under his roof for three weeks, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t left her room once. His demon servants informed him she ate reg
ularly and her wounds had healed. She didn’t speak to them, fearful of their presence whenever they brought her food, and she was asleep more often than not.
“Master.” The girl with her mouth on his halfway-stiff cock purred at him. She and the other girl at his testicles had been diligently working to arouse him for several minutes without any luck.
Damian couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering to the bewitching slave in his house. The strange vision he’d caught when she’d touched his face weeks earlier. The effect she had on him was dangerous, he hadn’t been able to achieve a full erection since he’d seen her.
He couldn’t trust his servants alone with the witch, so he hadn’t visited his home in Seattle since she’d arrived. He wanted to work on his car, the classic Chevelle he’d built from the ground up years earlier. It was due for an oil change and could use another tune-up, but the girl’s safety was imperative, so he remained in Hell. Eventually he’d need to address her.
Haley peered down through the gaps in the black railing at the orgy below. The Master was lying on his back, being sexually serviced by two naked women at his groin while two others kissed and groped each other across his torso. She backed away, shockingly repulsed, an unpleasant emotion bothering her stomach.
It was time to focus on escape once again. She went into a dim office. A silver dagger glimmered on the desk. After a few unsuccessful attempts to cut through the collar, she gave up.
“What you got there?”
Haley spun at the demon’s voice and gripped the dagger as he stalked closer.
“Master has us waiting on a slave like you’re one of the royal ones.” He shook his reptilian head with a toothy grin. “No slave should be allowed to wear clothes. Drop the blade before I stick it inside your asshole, understand? You’re coming with me to the dungeons.”
She lowered the dagger to her side and obediently started forward.
The demon reached out to grab her. “No, no, bitch. Give me the blade.”
“Oh. Right.” Haley stretched it toward him with jittering hands. “Here.”
After weeks of rejuvenating sleep, her reflexes were back to normal. She thrust the dagger-point into his throat, and he hit the floor with a gurgling sound.
Haley grabbed a ring of keys from his pocket and burst toward the door.
A throng of demons waited in the hallway. Before she could cry out, one of them gagged her. A powerful fist smashed against the back of her head, sending cold chills down her spine, and she fell into a cloaking darkness.
She awakened naked. Claws ran all over her, fondling her bare breasts. Haley screamed, working to free herself from their grasp.
“Make her be quiet!”
Another demon dangled his deformed penis over her face. “You’re not gonna tell the Master nothing. Or we’ll shove a hot poker right up inside your cunt.”
They opened her legs, and the demon above her jerked her mouth open for his oddly-shaped organ.
“Let her go, let her go. Master is coming!”
Black tar oozed from gaping wounds in the demons’ bodies. Haley sat upright as a blade sliced through one of their necks and the head tumbled to the ground.
Damian stood holding a dripping sword in the damp, dark cell. She turned away from his well-built naked body. He must have come straight from his orgy at the sound of her screams.
“Get her dressed and bring her to my chambers,” he commanded the only living demon in the dungeon and headed out the door.
* * *
“Put this on.” A wheezing demon threw a corset at her and rustled through the drawer in her room. He picked out a string thong for her to wear. “The Master is finally gonna use you like the slave you are.” He chuckled, uncomfortably close as she rapidly worked the dozen tiny hooks at her front to fasten the tight red lingerie. He held up the wad of black strings. “He told me to get you dressed. I’m gonna put this on you.”
“I can do it.” Haley reached for the little thong, and he growled.
“Master said.” With deep concentration, he pushed the sheer fabric between her legs and wrenched the string up her backside.
“I’ll do the rest.” She worked to tear the strings from his grip, but he wouldn’t have it.
“Master wants them up between these.” The demon harshly yanked the fabric upward at her sex.
Haley tried to push him away, and her hand brushed the thick handle of a dagger hanging loosely from his breeches. Preoccupied, he stared plainly between her legs as he tied the strings with monstrous claws. She slid the blade free and moved it behind her back, tucking it under the corset, hidden by her long wave of heavy curls.
Damian stood beside a wooden counter, pouring whiskey into a crystal tumbler when she slipped into his bedroom. He looked over the sheer red corset and tiny strip of black panties tied into bows at her hips.
Silent for a moment, he drank from his glass. “What’s your name?”
Haley held her hands behind her back, poised to grab the knife, and struggled to keep her mind clear.
He set his drink down, moving closer until he stood in front of her, shirtless in jeans, hanging low without a belt. He clearly wasn’t wearing underwear. Deep scars covered his muscled abdomen, possibly inflicted by the witch Raden had spoken of.
“Haley.” Her voice came out as a weak whisper.
“Well, Haley.” He paused, thoughtfully taking a drink. “I know your sole focus is escape, but I’m sorry to tell you that you’re wasting your time.”
“What else would I be doing with my time?”
Damian shrugged. “What do you like to do?”
She gripped her hands behind her, caught off guard by the question. “I know what you’re doing.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared blankly at her.
“I saw your fantasy,” she whispered. “When I touched you in your uncle’s chambers. You want me to fall in love with you.”
“That wasn’t a fantasy.” Damian’s expression turned dark, and he filled his glass. “Look around, Haley. We’re in Hell, there’s no love here.”
With his attention momentarily focused elsewhere, Haley withdrew the dagger. She sank it into his heart and twisted.
Damian grabbed her wrists and knocked her to the ground.
“It will require a lot more than that to take me down.”
Haley kneed him between his legs, and he grunted. She scrambled away from his loosened grasp.
He tackled her, then wrenched the dagger free from his chest and tossed it away. Gripping a handful of her hair, he pulled her to his bed.
“You fucking stabbed me.”
She was a ball of energy, clawing at his arm. He picked her up and threw her onto the black silk sheets.
She hooked her nails into his neck, slicing through his skin, and tore free from him.
Damian caught his arm around her waist and pulled her backward. He slammed her onto the bed and held her down.
A sudden vision blinded her. Breathless with Damian’s face between her legs while sparkling golden lights floated through the air around her. He lapped at her with his tongue, and she clutched the sheets, sending magical golden sparkles from her fingers into the white fabric of a bed she’d never seen before.
He pressed his crushing weight onto her. “Who’s fantasizing now?”
“You are.” Surprisingly aroused, she struggled against him.
“I’m not. Stop moving.” The softness beneath his rigid tone suggested he was also aroused.
“Then let me go.” Haley freed her leg and brought it around his waist, writhing against his hardness.
“I said stop moving.” He gripped her wrist before she could claw his face.
Another vision struck her. Damian, on his knees in the same unknown bed, lifted a dreamy Haley to straddle his lap. She encircled her arms around his neck. With his large member inside her, she tightened her legs around him, blissfully ascending from an earth-shattering orgasm.
He licked her naked br
easts in the darkness. “You’re so beautiful.”
The vivid vision disappeared, and Damian loosened his hold on her wrist. “What the fuck was that?”
She jerked herself free, and he grasped her arms.
“Just…wait a minute.” He wrestled her back under him.
“Let go.” She leaned forward and snapped her teeth against his throat.
His hand flew to the back of her head, and he pulled a fistful of her hair backward. An image flashed of herself. Naked except for a garter belt and black stockings. She bent over the hood of a glossy blue-and-white muscle car, and Damian plowed into her from behind, grunting low, pleasured groans.
“Stop showing me your fantasies!”
He pressed down on her with his smothering hold. “They’re not my fucking fantasies.”
She raked her hand up his slippery abdominal muscles to the bleeding wound in his chest and tried to shove her fingers inside.
Damian tightened his rough hold on her hair. “You little…fucking…”
Her eyes filled with tears at the sharp pain in her scalp. A shocking string of sensation flowed through to her sex, despite her boiling anger. Panting with effort, she twisted her hips against his enormous erection, restrained under his jeans. The tiny black panties rode up, straining against her clit. Her body responded, working her hips lower while the thin fabric stretched tighter.
Damian’s eyes hooded at her sensual motions, and he yanked her wrists over her head, pinning them to the black leather headboard.
She rubbed against the front of his jeans. Squirming her knee between his legs, she slammed it into his groin.
His body clenched as he grunted in her ear. She broke free, flying off the bed.
He reached out and hooked his fingers into the strings at her hip. The thin panties stretched against her sex before they snapped, loosely hanging off her hips. Adrenaline powered her toward the door, but Damian was faster. He swept her feet out from under her, and she fell forward on the black marble floor. She had more fight left in her. For the first time in weeks, she was well-fed and fully rested. She would not give in to punishment so quickly.
Seducing the Devil Page 3
