Page 21 of Unholy Bond (The Corruption of Evelyn Adams #2)

By dessert, Lucifer had moved his hand all the way up, fingers sliding under the edge of the panties he’d sent with the dress.

I was surprised he even bothered with underwear.

He dipped his thumb inside, slow, then rotated it in the way that had always made me gasp.

I made the sound, soft and perfect, and let my eyes go heavy-lidded.

He watched avidly, then moved his thumb faster.

I pulsed another black vein, this one at the base of my jaw.

The Void inside me shuddered, but I held it back.

He leaned in, his mouth nearly at my ear.

“You like this,” he whispered, and there was a challenge in it.

He wanted me to fight, to lose. I gave a tiny, helpless moan, then reached for my wine, nearly spilling it.

I drained the glass and looked at him, tongue licking a drop from the corner of my mouth.

“Thank you,” I said.

He nearly growled. “You’re learning.”

He pulled his hand away just as I was about to come, and the withdrawal left a cold spot that ached. He raised a fork to my lips, balancing a chunk of bloody fruit on the tines. “Taste.”

I opened my mouth, took the fruit, and bit down. The juice ran down my chin, and I caught it with the tip of my finger. I licked it clean, never breaking eye contact.

He smiled, victorious.

He had no idea.

He snapped his fingers, and the demons of the palace sprang into motion, clearing plates and extinguishing the candelabras with brisk efficiency.

The hall emptied, the guests shuffling out in silence.

Only the two of us remained, the light dimmed to a soft, infernal glow.

He leaned back in his chair, draping an arm over my shoulder.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he said. “I might even consider letting you have a key to your room.”

I bowed my head, letting my hair fall over my face. “I would be honored.”

He stood, towering over me, and took my hand. “Let’s show the others how a queen behaves.”

He led me to the center of the hall, pressing me up against the cold marble table.

He kissed me, hard, his teeth scraping my lips until I tasted blood.

He pressed his body to mine, grinding his erection against my stomach, and I let him.

The Void roared inside me, not with revulsion but with pure, animal appetite.

For a moment, it nearly took over, nearly split my skin with the desire to devour him right there. But I waited. It wasn’t time.

He turned me around, bent me over the table, and hiked up the pink mini dress.

He pressed his cock against my ass, then shoved it in, dry and deliberate.

I gasped, bracing my hands on the bone tabletop, and arched back to meet him.

He fucked me rough, fast, the kind of sex that was more about dominance than pleasure.

I let him have it, let him believe he was in control.

He wrapped a hand around my throat, squeezing until the room went gray, then relaxed.

I came, hard and sudden, but kept the noise to a whimper.

All the while, the Void inside me stole a little of his power. I smiled at that.

When he finished, he pulled out, wiped himself on the hem of my dress, and zipped up. “You’re mine,” he said, and I did not correct him.

He handed me a napkin. I cleaned myself off and smoothed the dress down, straightening my posture.

He stepped back, surveying his work with the satisfaction of a serial killer.

“Back to your room,” he said. “Rest up. You’ve earned it.”

I nodded, then walked out, the humiliation pooling in my stomach, thick and hot. In the corridor, I listened for the footfalls of his guards. None followed.

I took the long way to my room, passing through the lower halls where my offsprings congregated.

I found them clustered by the water fountains, whispering in low, urgent tones.

When I passed, they bowed, even the ones that were only partially mine.

I looked for the eyes that lingered too long, the ones that darted away in fear.

Those were the spies, the ones bred by other hands.

I cataloged their faces, filed them away.

In my room, I locked the door, stripped off that hideous dress and threw it in the trash, and then stood in front of the mirror.

The black veins were spreading, an intricate web across my chest and down my arms. I ran a finger along the line of one, and the surface tingled, alive with something more than blood.

Behind me, in the mirror, the air shivered. The Void pressed up, not as a formless shadow, but as a twin: same face, same hair, the veins even darker on the doppelganger’s skin.

“You’ve been testing me,” it said, the words as sharp as glass in a garbage disposal.

“I’ve been testing us both,” I said, not flinching from the gaze.

The Void moved closer, the reflection pressing its cold, electric hands to my shoulders. The sensation was not pain, not pleasure, but a hybrid of the two, a static that burned and healed at once.

“I am ready to join with you completely,” it said. “The question is whether you are ready to give yourself to me.”

I looked straight at it, at me, at us. “I am not giving myself to you. We are becoming something new together.”

It laughed, the sound like bones popping. “Then let us begin.”

It slipped its arms around me, pulling me back into the glass, and the world went black and sweet and hot. My veins pulsed, skin stretched tight, and for a second, I was sure I would break. The pain was perfect. The pleasure, infinite.

When it ended, I stood alone, the veins thicker, the eyes rimmed in black, the smile cut wider than before.

I smiled at myself. It looked right now.

Tomorrow would be mine.