- Meet The Girls
- Meet The Guys
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
This chapter is NSFW! This chapter is rated Mature for adult language, sexual content, references to graphic violence. This means that this is intended for audiences 18 and up.
Trigger warnings include: domestic violence.
She made was a vision, laid out, ginger curls sprawled across the pillowcase. But it wasn’t her face Elizaveta wanted to see. Not with how her nose wrinkled in the wrong way. Nor her teeth as they bared with every rock of her hips into hers. She couldn’t even play pretend with her eyes shut tight. Those high-pitched whimpers were nothing like the sultry alto moans she craved.
Still, there was something about redheads that sang to her – the porcelain skin, the way that sunlight glinted off their hair. Not this girl – Candy, she recalled was her name. She wasn’t so ginger as much as she was neon orange. Colorful tattoos climbed the narrow expanse of her waist and along her ribs. They drifted over her hips and along her thighs, joining just beneath where Eli held her open. Vulnerable.
She watched the way they joined, her thighs trembling with the effort of driving her hips hard into hers. Her eyes devoured the way Candy welcomed her, soaking, stretching around the silicone she buried deep into her core.
The redhead whined – a nasally, desperate sound. “More,” she pleaded, her hand sliding down her midline until her fingers came away slick with her need.
Eli let out a hiss as she reached for her, hand closing hard around her wrist as she pinned it over her head. “Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?”
Candy stared up at her, wide-eyed, grinning devilishly like a cat that had just gotten into the cream. “No, ma’am,” she whined, her lip caught between her teeth, stifling a moan as she pressed harder into her.
Elizaveta stilled entirely, enjoying the sight of her trembling and writhing – hips rolling of their own volition toward her to try to urge her to continue.
“Please?” She pleaded. “Don’t stop!”
“Pretty please?” She purred, raking her teeth over her exposed throat.
Candy arched for her, her breath catching in her chest, exposing more of her delicate neck. It would have been too easy to sink her teeth in. To rip her throat out and leave her bleeding out over the bedsheets. A thought that made the monster within her purr. A ravenous, bloodthirsty want that caused desire to pulse between her thighs.
She didn’t use to be so monstrous. She hadn’t used to crave utter submission from those beneath her – to leave their flesh mottled in bruises and teeth marks. But she had let the darkness in. Let it envelop her and welcome her into the fold.
“P-Pretty please,” Candy stammered, her thighs tensing at Eli’s hips, pulling her closer. “Can I touch myself?”
“Good girl,” she growled, her teeth meeting with the tender flesh of her shoulder.
She let out a strangled-sounding cry, her body convulsing, trembling.
Eli’s nails dug hard into her hip, guiding her harder, faster over the silicone toy. Her thumb replaced her fingers when she noted the way Candy’s hand faltered. It wasn’t long before she came undone, back-arching, quivering, pleading.
She was kind enough to fuck her through the aftershocks. To watch her as her face fell slack in ecstasy, her fingers raking through her neon-orange hair.
“H-Holy shit, Eli.”
She detangled herself slowly, chuckling as she pulled free. Candy protested, grasping at air in a feeble attempt to pull her back.
“Sorry, doll,” Eli purred, pressing a kiss to the mark she had left on her shoulder. “Told ya, I only had a little while.”
“‘To make me see God,’” she quoted, draping her arm over her eyes. “You weren’t kidding.”
“I never do.” She tossed the condom into the wastebasket and made quick work of unbuckling the harness at her hips.
“I can… try to get you off,” the girl said, shakily rolling herself to her stomach. “I’ve never—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she waved a hand dismissively. The thrill wasn’t in getting off. The high laid in domination – forcing another to bend so far, they broke. Candy had already served her purpose, submitting entirely. And to a woman, at that. Only a few hours ago, she had sworn up and down that she was only interested in men. Until she came undone on Eli’s fingers in the elevator. She supposed that might have changed a few things.
The orange-haired girl pouted, her legs kicking. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna—”
“Maybe another time,” she smiled, though it didn’t meet her eyes. “Unfortunately, I got places to be. You better start getting dressed now. It’s gonna take you a bit.”
Candy giggled, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, you’re… right about that,” she said, staring in wonder at the way her thighs continued to shake.
Leaving her to her own devices, Eli sloped off to her bathroom to sterilize the dildo in the sink. Everything around her was immaculate – pristinely kept. She stood out like a sore thumb amidst all the quartz countertops and expensive marble tile. She studied herself in the mirror for a long moment – a mess of mussed black curls and honey brown eyes stared back at her. Near every inch of her was covered in ink. Large expanses of her arms, swathed in occult symbols and blackened skies. Her jaw tensed, her nostrils flared. It had been a long time since she could look at herself in the mirror. A long time since she could recognize herself.
Gone were the days of Elizaveta Black. The timid girl with a stutter who still sought to see the best in everyone. The girl who had aspirations of opening up her own tattoo parlor with Aria at her side – a frizzy head of ginger waves, a flash of near-straight white teeth, with twin snaggleteeth.
Aria didn’t want her. No one else did.
Not until the Devil found his way between her thighs and dragged her here to the City of Sin. And then he held her captive with tattooed hands around her neck – kept in this gilded fucking cage as the monster inside her ate her from the inside out.
He was the creature he made her. The beast who would have ripped out her Candy’s throat and left her to bleed out. Worse yet, she would have feasted on her insides and wore her innards like diamonds across her throat.
“Will you call me?” Candy called from outside the door, jarring her from her inspection.
“Sure,” Eli replied, forcing a calmness to her voice. A certainty. There would be no next time. “I’ll see ya around.” That much was true. After all, Eli couldn’t bring herself to stay away from the clubs. Not for long.
“Bye,” Candy replied hesitantly. The sound of the door clicking open and then closed spurred her into action.
The Devil would come soon. He always did. So she started the meticulous cleaning process – the sheets were stripped from the bed, soon replaced with new bedding. Next, anything that had Candy’s scent on it was scrubbed down. Finally, a pineapple candle was lit to chase away whatever lingering sex was left in the air.
See, the Devil didn’t come in the form of glowing red skin and blackened eyes. He didn’t have the lower half of a goat or horns atop his head.
No, the Devil came in the form of Landyn Cole. A King in the making, slated to take over his father’s throne. Omnus, a corporation whose misdeeds went deeper than paper trails and witness testimonies could follow. The big-bad in expensive suits with crystal glasses clutched in their blood-soaked hands. But deeper than the facade was something even more hideous. More monstrous. Omnus wasn’t just headed by bad men. It was headed by monsters – the sort who came out to play when the moon was full. The sort whose smiles and handshakes mutated into tooth and claw.
Landyn had never been the man he pretended to be. He was a Werewolf, determined to claim a pretty, young, impressionable thing as his mate. The Queen to the Kingdom that now spread past the reaches of Las Vegas and carved its bloody path up the West Coast.
What he hadn’t anticipated was that there had been darkness in her, too. A shadow that had forced into her soul too young and that had been slowly growing.
He turned her, yes. But the monster had always been there, just waiting to be let out.
She had become something of an irreplaceable asset to Omnus. Further to Nex, the Pack Landyn’s family founded and ruled with iron fists. She was smart. Capable. And Landyn made sure whatever compassion and gentility she had left in her was beaten out.
She traced her tongue with her teeth, recalling the day he had knocked hers clean out of her head. See, before he finally lost his temper and made her like him, he had been playing nice. But when his plaything toughened up, those needs were more easily quenched.
Of course, he apologized, as he always did. This time with shiny new porcelain teeth screwed into her mouth. If nothing else, he hesitated to do it again – if only because of the burden it took on his pocketbook. Nothing but the top dollar to make sure the soon-to-be Queen could still be considered ‘pretty.’
The affairs had started long ago. She was desperate for anything to keep her grounded. First, she sought solace in their touch, but their tenderness made her sick. Her insides felt like rot. Poison. Every kiss summoned sickness to carve its way up her throat. But then, she realized that her cravings were far darker.
She didn’t want love. Love didn’t want her either. She wanted to punish, bend, break, bite. She wanted to fuck. So she did, drawing men and women into her bed indiscriminately. Sometimes, more than two at a time.
Her tongue traced the seam of her mouth as she recalled the parade of bodies that came in and out of her sky rise apartment. All of whom whimpered and pleaded so nicely. Loud enough, she was sure even the street below could hear them beg.
A wolfish grin formed on her lips as she stepped, naked out into the hallway, and pressed the bedding into the guard’s outstretched and waiting hand. His eyes roved hungrily over her, interest evident in the way he stared.
She knew he wouldn’t say anything to the Devil when he finally came knocking. Because she was fucking him, too.
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