Page 154 of Evil Hearts

Chapter 3 :Kyliana

I smash my fist against the door for the hundredth time since the witch fucking locked me in here but to no avail. It doesn’t budge even a little, as solid as concrete. My screams are absorbed by the spell trapping me here and fury boils inside me, growing more deadly the longer I remain caged like a wild animal. I’m going to slice his bowls from his body and string him up with them.

I glance around my room and take in the muted shades of green, brown, tan, and grey. The decorations’ elegance and calmness all complement each other and allow me to temporarily forget the image of this place that was burned into my brain when I arrived less than an hour ago. The exterior of this castle looks the furthest thing from a castle and more like six huts the size of a mountain bound together with moss between them. Beautiful and brutal much like the king who rules it, the depths of his purple eyes calling to me in a way I hadn’t expected.

I continue my exploration and my gaze comes to settle on the thick bed made of wood and cotton, the softness something I hadn’t expected. My eyes wander the space and I realize everything in here is either bolted down or attached via earth magic. What the fuck do they think I’m going to do, steal the lamp made of bark and moss? At least in the underworld, our decorations are made of glass with intricate designs. This looks as though some old woman was made the lead decorator and told it has to fit the look of classy forest chic and she nailed it even down to the pitcher of water on the bedside table.

Laying back on the bed, I pull my machete out and twirl it around my fingers, loving the comfort of the leather handle as it caresses my palm. A quiet whirring sound fills the small space and the hairs rise on my neck as the air feels like it’s filling with energy, a telltale sign that someone is using a surveillance spell to see what I’m doing. What do they think I’m going to do in here, fuck myself with the bedpost?

Actually… nope never mind, I shake my head as I take in the extensive moss wrapped tightly around them. My genetics as a demon might make it nearly impossible to get sick but I have standards. Even my machete is cleaner than that since I had a witch spell it to repel bacteria after I killed a siren with it and her blood gooped it up for a week.

A thought comes to me as I lay in the bed, the whirring still present and my lips slide up in a crooked grin that would make most men’s pants fall off. I put my machete next to me and kick off my boots then wiggle out of my tight leather pants and silk g-string. I pick up my machete and run the cool metal of the back side of the blade up my legs, a shiver following in its wake as wetness begins to pool between my legs.

I lean over the side of the bed and dip the handle of my machete into the water pitcher, letting the drips of water land on my thighs and I slide the handle up them. Spreading my legs wide, I slide my right index finger down into my folds and moan at the electricity that runs through my veins with the excitement of knowing the Orc King is watching me. Spreading my lower lips, I slowly push the handle of my machete inside, groaning at the feel of the cool water on the leather as it hits my sweetest spot and my need to climax takes over.

I circle my clit with one hand while I thrust the machete in and out of myself with the other, coming closer to my arc. With a final thrust, I feel wetness drip out of me and onto the bed as I spasm from the strength of my orgasm. I withdraw the handle of my machete and place it into the water pitcher to soak as the whirring continues in the air and my lips draw up in a wicked smile knowing the king saw every second of me pleasuring myself.

I stand from the bed and redress myself, deciding to end the free show. He’s going to have to earn the next one. I pull my phone from my pocket, thankful my mother made sure it was spelled so that I can use it anywhere. Pulling up my reading app, I pull up the latest dark romance I’m reading about someone being hunted in a cabin by multiple masked men and settle back onto the bed, avoiding the mess I made. If I’m going to be locked in here, I may as well catch up before the next book comes out.