Max’s gaze drifted to the center panel. Though the sky was painted in the same way as the one to the left, here men and women were dispersed throughout, engaging in various activities, most of which were of a sexual nature.
Finally, on the right, an image he recognized: Lust’s lair and her Garden of Hellish Delights. The hairs on the back of his neck stood.
“Eva, what am I seeing here?” he asked, unable to wrap his head around the masterpiece.
“Well, on the left, it’s God introducing Eve to Adam. In the center, the garden which gives the triptych its name, and on the left, Hell.”
“Yes,” Max murmured. “I see it.”
Regardless of the human’s biblical interpretation, what Bosch had accurately displayed was Lust’s beguiling ways. From the apparent innocence of men and women to uninhibited lust, to finally punishment in the Garden of Hellish Delights.
“When was it done?”
“Sixteen hundreds,” Eva replied. “Isn’t it amazing? Every time I look at it I discover something new.”
Max’s mind reeled. 1600’s. It never ceased to amaze him the years to which the Guardians devoted themselves to maintaining the balance, but this painting brought about even more questions. This man, Bosch, had he perhaps been a Guardian? Or had he been a victim? Had he escaped Lust’s grasp, or had he gone mad by her power?
“Why did he paint this?” Max asked.
“Experts are not entirely sure. What we do know, by looking at all his artwork, was that he was well versed on humans’ desire and perhaps their madness.”
Max peered more closely at the darker panel. It chilled him to the bone. From the dark colors to the burning fires, mutated animals, and gross sexual depictions. His chest tightened. Inferum. The devilish beings cavorted at will, torturing humans in all sort of creative, yet cruel, forms. A figure caught his attention and he squinted, hoping to make it out. A cool drop of sweat slithered down his back, and his wound ached with renewed vigor. A succubus.
“Are you okay?” Eva nudged him. “You’re a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” Max said. He swallowed. “Can we see something else?”
Eva frowned.
“Yes, but are you sure you’re okay?”
Max shook his head.
“This painting brings back bad memories.” He hesitated. “From war,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t ask more and they could move on.
Eva’s gaze softened.
“I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t realize.” She hooked their arms together. “I’ll show you my favorite painting in the museum. I promise it’s not dark at all.”
Wandering through the wide halls, she took him to a quieter area.
“I love this painting,” Eva said.
Max took in the portrait. The painter had captured a striking woman. She stared to the side, her blonde hair pulled back into a bun threaded with pearls, which matched those hanging around her neck. The material of her clothes was equally rich and elegant. However, contrasting the splendor, the model bared her bosom. She did it shamelessly, openly revealing full breasts with taut pink nipples.
Max read the inscription.
“Tintoretto, Domenico, lady revealing her breasts.” He regarded it again. “You know, it is more erotic than exhibitionist, as if she’s trying to seduce without being blatant. It is quite sensual,” he remarked.
“Experts say it’s the depiction of an honest courtesan, one whose mother was aiming to introduce her to the job. I think that’s why I like her so much. She’s offering her body, but she’s doing it with class.”
“Do you think she wanted this life for herself?” he asked.
“Perhaps not, perhaps it is why she is looking away. She is not ashamed, but she is not proud either. She simply does her job.” Eva paused. “It reminds me of myself when I first started. My mother—” She chewed on her bottom lip, glanced at him, then back at the art piece. “My mother kicked me out of the house after accusing me of having slept with her then boyfriend. In a way, she introduced me to the life of an escort.”
Max’s vision clouded, his blood rushing to his ears and pounding mercilessly. What kind of mother abandoned her child and condemned her to a life in the streets? He breathed slowly through his nose.
“I can’t believe your mother did that. You were the victim,” he sputtered. “She should have protected you.”
Eva shrugged.
“It is what it is, and I learned to accept it a long time ago.” She squeezed his forearm. “You should, too.”
Max nodded.
“I’m still sorry you had to go through all that.”
“It’s all right. It was years ago. Besides, I think I’m better off without her. Who knows where I’d be if I had stayed home? I don’t think I would have seen as much of the world as I have, or would have studied what I enjoyed. I definitely wouldn’t have met you,” she said.
A surge of pride filled him. Eva, his Eva, was a self-made woman. She didn’t sit idly by and wait for the world to destroy her. She was a fighter. And he loved her. Gripping her wrist, he pulled her close and smashed his mouth to hers, desperately trying to explain with a single kiss what he felt. She responded to him with an ease which still astounded him. Their tongues collided, intimately seeking the other in an erotic dance. Eva pressed herself to him. His hands slid down her back, cupping her ass and bringing her hard against his throbbing cock. She moaned, tripling his arousal. He squeezed the round globes, digging his fingers into the flesh. Her palm reached between them, grasping his cock over his jeans. Max groaned into her mouth. He wanted her. Needed to be inside her, making love to her.
“Ahem.”
They broke apart at the loud throat clearing.
“This is a museum. Please,” the guard admonished them.
Max blanched and with tremulous fingers brushed his hair from his face. His neck burned. How could he have been so callous? Eva apologized in Spanish and led him away. After crossing a few spaces, they stopped. She turned to face him, grinning wildly.
“That was insane.” She burst out laughing. The joyful giggles egged him on and he joined her.
“I’m sorry,” Max said. “It was my fault. I really shouldn’t have kissed you, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted you to know.” He stopped short. How much could he say without compromising their relationship?
“It’s all right,” Eva said. “I was a willing participant.” Her eyes narrowed, turning mischievous. “Although, I’m not entirely sure what you wanted me to know. Maybe you can show me at home?”
Max tapped her nose.
“Not yet. I want to see some more of this museum.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Fine. Let’s go.” She grabbed his shoulder and leaned into him. Her eyes bore into his. “You do know I’ll get you into bed eventually, right?”
Max smirked.
“Kitten, I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eva moaned. Max had her caged between his arms, his cock resting at the entrance to her vagina. She lifted her hips, rubbing herself against the hard shaft, whimpering as it made contact with her clit and sent a new wave of arousal crashing into her.
“Max, please,” she whispered.
Not yet, kitten.
In her vision, he grinned, teasing her with his words and body. He kissed her languidly, sensually fucking her mouth and increasing her frustration.
“Max.”
Just a little more, kitten.
His palms rested on her breasts, his tanned skin a sharp contrast to her pale flesh. Her nipples puckered, and a dollop of liquid dripped down the crack of her ass. With thumb and forefinger he twisted, then flicked the engorged tips. Her pussy clenched, desperate to be filled.
“Please.”
She arched her back and spread her legs further, inviting him to thrust into her, but he didn’t. He nipped her neck, grazed the sensitive area of her collar bone with his teeth, then dipped lower, sucking her nipple hard. Eva g
asped. Goosebumps dotted her skin. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Grabbing her dildo, she thrust.
“Yes.”
Her pussy walls squeezed the ribbed toy, welcoming its girth. She slid it back and forth a few times before tweaking her clit. Her pelvis jerked.
“More.”
She set the machine on high speed, rhythmically moving her body to its mechanical vibrations. Fast and hard, she stroked her clitoris. Her knees began to shake, her vision clouded. Eva squealed, erupting into tremors of uncontrolled lust.
After a few seconds or minutes, she didn’t know how long, she turned off the toy and pulled it out. Eyes still closed, she breathed hard through her nose, waiting for her heart rate to settle. She squeezed her legs together, relishing the aftershocks of her orgasm. The truth was, she wasn’t sated. Her body was still on fire, every nerve ending tingling with unfulfilled sexual desire. Her toys weren’t cutting it anymore. She needed the real thing. Max.
She pressed her index finger to her lips, unable to stop them from tilting upward.
Damn, sexy, man.
She could still feel the ghost of his lips on hers with their firm yet velvety texture. Every time he kissed her, she disappeared into another time, another place. She ceased being Eva the escort, the perfect girl, the illusion of someone she wasn’t. When she was with Max, when he touched her, she became just Eva, free from the chains of the mundane.
“Max,” she sighed.
There was definitely something between them, but she didn’t quite understand what it was. She’d never experienced anything similar. Never had a man not wanted to sleep with her immediately after meeting her.
“It’s more than sex.”
She wanted to explore him. She’d never had any interest for other men beyond the superficial, but with Max she yearned for more. She wanted to know the big and the little things: How did he like his coffee? What was his favorite pizza? What did he do to fight against the monsters of war?
She hadn’t dared ask after the episode at the museum for fear of triggering something, but she had enquired about his family. He’d told her about them. They lived in a city called Altor, where colorful houses sat on the bank of wide canals. She’d told him she’d like to see it someday, and he’d promised to take her. Those crazy butterflies which had taken permanent residence in her stomach went for a spin at those words. But honestly, who did that? Who told a woman he’d just met he’d take her to his hometown and show her around?
She chuckled to herself. This was too good to be true? Right? There had to be a catch somewhere.
She glanced at the flashing alarm clock on her bedside table. She had to get ready for work. Tonight, she was supposed to accompany some big shot to a gala dinner and then, the usual. She grimaced. He would touch her, caress her intimately, and bring her to climax if she were lucky. Her skin crawled, bile rising so quickly to the back of her throat, she dry heaved. Oh God. She couldn’t do it. She wanted Max, not some other guy rutting between her legs. She shuddered violently.
“Eva, you’ve lost it. You’ve only known the guy for two days.”
She curled up into a ball. Her stomach ached.
“Eva, think about the money.”
The thought of her paycheck usually had her up and running, but not tonight. Sweat gathered on her brow. Maybe this had nothing to do with Max and she’d simply come down with something. Right? It didn’t matter. She couldn’t go to work tonight. Grabbing her phone, she found her boss’s contact and dialed.
“Lillian? Hey, this is Eva. I’m not going to be able to go tonight. I’ve been throwing up for the past hour and I’m feeling like shit.”
She waited for the person on the other side to complain, but they accepted her lie without further questioning.
“Yes, I know I won’t get paid. I’m sorry. Aha, yes, I know I need to attend tomorrow’s open house. Okay. Goodnight. Bye.”
Eva hung up. Shivering, she wormed her way beneath the covers. She really wasn’t feeling well. She yawned. Maybe after a nap she’d feel better. She’d call Max, tell him she’d canceled her work for the night, and ask him if he wanted to hang out. It didn’t reek desperation, did it? She dozed off.
***
Eva gasped and doubled over. Her hands on her knees, she struggled to fill her lungs with oxygen. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Eventually, breathing became easier, but shivers kept her hunched over. She wiped her face with the back of her arm. Realizing, as she did, that she was naked.
“Oh God, please no,” she mumbled.
Teeth chattering audibly, she straightened and stumbled backward. It all came back to her.
Not here. Not again.
Like always, the stone wall was unpleasantly cold against her back. The hall was dark except for the red shafts of light coming from outside and painting the floor with stripes. Soon, the door would materialize and they’d push her through it, force her to be part of the carnage. She slid to the floor and covered her face, swaying back and forth.
“Wake up, Eva. Wake up,” she muttered.
“My daughter.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. An eerie sense of recognition clutched her chest. Her mother, dressed in a simple white tunic, smiled benevolently at her. Vera didn’t appear to be a day older, nor had she gained or lost weight. Her hair was lustrous, shining with the trademark purple highlights Eva had toyed with as a child.
“Eva, my beautiful daughter,” Vera said, the characteristic lines above her mouth crinkling as they had always done, a permanent trace of her smoking habits. “Why do you resist your blood ties?”
Her voice, however, was different from what Eva remembered. There had never been great warmth in it, but now it lacked all manner of emotion.
“Why do you resist joining your family?”
Eva blinked, realizing her mother was expecting an answer.
“Blood ties? Family? What are you talking about?” Eva asked.
“Sex makes you feel alive, doesn’t it, my girl?”
The lips moved, but the eyes remained dead, as if the inside of Vera was empty and she was nothing more than a hollow vessel.
“Huh?”
“And yet you starve yourself,” Vera said.
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Your sex is dry.”
Eva glanced down. Reaching between her legs, she touched her folds. A tremor ran through her. It was like touching sandpaper.
“Why?” Eva asked.
“We must remedy it immediately.”
The woman propelled forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her upright.
“No, wait.”
The door materialized out of nowhere. Eva dug her heels onto the stone.
“Please, no. I don’t want to go inside.”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her mother tugged her toward the mysterious chamber. Eva screamed, her feet dragging against the floor and burning with the friction. The wood swung inward, revealing an awning darkness.
“No,” she cried.
Without mercy, Vera shoved her inside. Eva stumbled to her knees, yelping in pain. Suddenly, dozens of candles flared to life. She scurried backward, bumping against her mother.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“You must go to him,” Vera said, pointing to the back of the room.
“No.”
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, Vera yanked her head back. Eva’s gaze rested on the bed presiding the chamber. Atop it, naked and aroused, an unknown man slept. Her pussy clenched involuntarily.
“No,” Eva gasped.
“You feel the pull, don’t you, my child?” Vera cackled. “Yes, I can smell your cunt getting wet.”
“No.” Eva struggled against Vera’s grip, but the other woman was too strong. She hauled her to the edge of the mattress.
“Look at him. He needs you and you need him. You are a succubus, Eva. You were born to fuck and worship your Goddess, Lust.”
“No, n
o, no.” Eva thrashed violently, blindly throwing kicks and punches into the air. Her nails dug into soft flesh, ripping it open.
“You can fight all you want, child, but your body is begging you to do it. How long will you be able to ignore it?”
Vera released her and she crumpled to the floor.
“I will show you how it’s done.”
Ignoring her mother, Eva tried to stand, but her legs shook so badly, they wouldn’t hold her weight. She began to crawl away.
“Look and learn, my daughter.”
Eva ignored Vera and continued her path to the door.
Just a little more.
Her knees scraped the harsh ground. Behind her, the man whimpered and Vera moaned loudly. Her breasts puckered.
“Yes. Yes, it feels so good,” Vera shouted.
Desire slid down Eva’s spine, spreading across her nerve endings.
“Don’t listen to them, Eva,” she whispered to herself.
But it was impossible. The smell of sex permeated the air, hot, wild, and musky. How long had she gone without having sex? She yearned for a man’s dick inside her, stretching it, filling her to the brim. His mouth on her breasts, sucking. His hands on her ass, squeezing, controlling. Eva stopped. She panted. A quickie wouldn’t hurt, would it?
She turned around and froze. Vera was gone, in her place a monster made out of little more than bloodied flesh on bones and long talons. It glared at her, eyes burning like twin flames.
“Are you ready to succumb to your nature?”
Suddenly, the man screamed.
Eva gasped. Jumbled memories came rushing back to her. Blood. Another monster, this one like a serpent. Another victim.
Then he’d appeared.
Wings darker than the night but eyes brighter than any star. Max. He’d promised her safety, but they’d ripped him apart, too. Her heart seized up. Tears blinded her.
“Max,” she yelled. He’d saved her. “Max.”
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