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Daring

Gwen

“ W ell, that was exciting!” Ambrosius grinned as he crossed the small threshold into Gwen’s kitchen and promptly sat at her kitchen table.

“What’s next, my warlock?”

She stared at him.

There was no way this fucking irritating, handsome horror expected her to think right now.

To do anything but lie down and process what could possibly be the longest day of Gwen’s entire life.

A day in which she had murdered a man for food.

Gwen slowly moved to the opposite chair, dropping the doll and scroll case onto the table as she collapsed into the seat.

“Nothing,” she said.

“I am going to sit here and do nothing. ”

To prove her point, Gwen dropped her head onto the table with a thunk.

“Oh, are we feeling a little grouchy after our first murder?” Ambrosius asked mockingly.

“Why are you like this?” Gwen groaned as she pulled her arms around her head.

“Because I’m a demon,” Ambrosius replied.

“And I’m getting a little impatient with you.”

Him, impatient with her?

Was he serious?

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not processing the murder of my neighbor as well as you liked. I’ll just consult HR the next time it becomes an issue,” Gwen shot back.

Whether it was wise to sass a demon wasn’t something she gave a shit about in the moment.

Her mind was still somewhere else, maybe back in that apartment with her dead neighbor.

However, one thing that quickly became apparent was how little Gwen felt about it once her tears had dried.

And that bothered her more than ending a life had.

I’m more fucked up than I thought .

Gwen could put off her lack of guilt as coming to terms with what she did.

And while she couldn’t remember exactly what she did to him, Gwen remembered what it felt like.

It had been delicious and it had felt good.

And so few things in life gave Gwen pleasure outside of her dolls.

Most women don’t turn to murder to get a thrill, Gwen.

“Again, with that same attitude, ” Ambrosius complained.

Gwen’s eye twitched.

She might as well have been at her day job, in the back office, with Mary during a performance review.

Her last two had been shaky at best. Gwen had tried to hide her distaste for the work, but her mask had been cracking long before then.

Truthfully, Gwen wasn’t sure if the pieces could be glued back together at this point .

She couldn’t necessarily take her displeasure out on her job, but she could take it out on Ambrosius—to some extent.

Gwen lifted her head from the cradle of her arms and stared at the demon.

“My attitude?” she prompted, almost daring him to say it.

“You agreed to our deal—”

“I did not— ”

“—and then reject the terms of which were given to you.”

“They were your terms—”

“You’re currently behind schedule when it comes to completing the doll—”

“I am not—”

“—thus putting me behind schedule. You proceed to declare ‘war’ on me, and expect me not to retaliate. You run when I try to speak with you, at a cost to me, mind you. Then you need me to help you retrieve the very project I assigned to your care. All of which I do, going so far as to answering all of your questions in the process, without any offer in exchange. Does that about fucking cover it, do you think, or should I go on?”

Gwen couldn’t believe him.

Was he really trying to spin all of this on her right now?

And more worryingly, why did Gwen feel a tinge of guilt about it when she had none for her neighbor?

All of this—this chaos —was entirely his own doing …

wasn’t it? Now, she wasn’t so confident as she stared at his expectant face.

Ambrosius stared back, before his mouth formed an almost smile.

“ Gwendolyn. ”

The way he said her name, all honeyed with a hint of bitterness—a taunt.

But most startling was how much he sounded disappointed in her.

Like she was a kid who had gotten too unruly.

The thought pissed her off, but it also sparked a terrible idea in her.

Slowly, she withdrew her arms, folding her hands in her lap.

Gwen leaned back in her seat and lowered her chin.

And then, with all the same condescension and mockery, she echoed his cadence.

“ Daddy. ”

She watched in real time as the word disarmed him.

His eyelashes fluttered, the almost smile frozen on his face.

It felt better than Gwen could have expected to see how hard her words hit him.

Finally, a small crack in his armor.

Play shit games, win shit prizes, you fucker.

Her moment of triumph was short-lived as the kitchen light flickered, casting the apartment in momentary darkness.

When the light came back only seconds later, Ambrosius was standing.

He was still staring at her, but his expression had changed.

The demon was looking at her not too unlike how he had when they first met.

He lifted a brow at her and asked with an eerie calm, “What did you just say?”

All the confidence Gwen had moments ago was suddenly gone, and in its place was the unsettling reminder of what Ambrosius was.

More importantly, what she was to him.

He had no qualms chasing her around her apartment—in fact, he appeared to enjoy it.

Wholly unpredictable, like a storm that came with little warning.

Gwen slowly maneuvered out of her chair and into a standing position, intent on inching away from him.

The lights flickered again, and Ambrosius was closer.

Gwen’s hands clutched the back of the vacant chair as her heart began to race.

“ Gwen, ” he singsonged, an insidious prompt for her to answer .

Confusion—it always came down to that one emotion when it came to him.

There were other feelings, but they only added to her apprehensive state.

Gwen wasn’t sure what his intentions were.

She felt too uneasy to even utter it, let alone with the same tone she had used.

Yet Gwen dared not look away from him.

He could appear anywhere within seconds, and she didn’t want to be unprepared for it.

She was so focused on him that even the fireworks had become a distant, white noise in her ear.

The light bulb let out a soft click before the light disappeared once again.

This time, Ambrosius was inches from her, causing Gwen to let go of the chair.

She almost stumbled before catching her balance and gasped.

His eyes had changed, the sclera now black, and his iris an unnatural eyeshine of burning cyan.

Ambrosius’ smile was unsettling, revealing teeth that had sharpened to deadly points.

“Say it again,” he hissed.

A demand, a dare.

No, Gwen thought.

If he wanted her to do something, he would need to find a different way to motivate her.

She might never get over her natural fear of him, but Gwen refused to be bullied into submitting.

The words might have failed her, but Gwen still found the strength to resolutely shake her head in refusal.

He let out a small laugh.

“You infuriate me,” Ambrosius said quietly, yet somehow the words hit Gwen so loudly.

“I—”

“Uh-uh,” he tsked.

“I think we’re done with words, now.”

Ambrosius dropped his cane, and just as quickly as he moved across the table, he curled his hand around her neck and slammed their mouths together.

It was so unexpected that Gwen almost fell again, if not for Ambrosius’ other hand supporting the small of her back.

Instinct demanded that Gwen get away, to do something to stop the hot mouth against her own.

She could see out of the corner of her eye, the scroll case just within arm’s reach on the table.

If she used it to bludgeon his head, Gwen was mostly sure he would forgive her.

Her fingers slowly inched onto the table, but stopped the moment Ambrosius ran his tongue along her lips.

The same tongue she had been having nightmares about, that had driven her to frustration night after night.

Hot and insistent, and all too easy to allow into her mouth.

Tonight had been a fucking night, so what was one more bad decision?

Gwen slid her hands beneath his jacket, clutching his shirt.

She opened her mouth, allowing Ambrosius inside, and whimpered at the first hot stroke against her tongue.

This was different from the first time they had kissed.

Gwen had been rightfully put out, but that was before she knew what he could do with it.

Now, she wanted it.

Now, she needed it.

And that need got worse when his teeth nicked her bottom lip again, blood filling her mouth.

Ambrosius chased it, the heat radiating from his mouth burning like a campfire.

A quiver of pain shot through her tongue where she had burned it days prior.

Gwen groaned, leaning into him and tugging at his shirt.

She nearly whined when he pulled away, the sight of his monstrous tongue curling back into his mouth was torture.

“Needy, always so needy , Gwen,” Ambrosius chuckled.

“What am I to do with you, hmm? ”

That same tone of authority—no, of a thing that lived under beds and tormented helpless people at night—shouldn’t have made Gwen shiver the way it did.

Out of fear, yes, but from arousal?

The evidence suggested so as she squirmed in his arms, allowing him to press her against the kitchen table.

It was yet another fucked up thing Gwen had discovered about herself since coming to know him.

One that Gwen could literally not give a flying fuck about, because Ambrosius was pawing her cutoffs.

Long fingers undoing the button and zipper with ease.

It took everything in her not to shout as those same fingers slowly dipped into the front of her jeans, brushing against wiry hair.

Gwen’s knuckles paled as she tightened her hold on the edge of the kitchen table.

He was close enough now that his palm pressed against her lower abdomen, his face close enough that Gwen could feel him exhale.

She nearly cried when he stopped, fingers still against her soft mound.

When she had enough sense to look at his face, Gwen could see he was staring at her expectantly.

Gwen licked her lips before she found her voice again.

“Why are you…”

Ambrosius smiled, wicked and mean.

“Say it again. ”

Lust had made her brain go fuzzy and impatient as she stared at him.

It took her a moment to realize what he was implying—what he wanted her to say.

It made her grow even hotter, eyes burning, torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss the smug look off his face.

He was absolutely telling her to beg him to touch her.

But she also realized he—in his own fucked up way—was asking her for consent.

He was giving her a way out, depending on her answer.

Gwen knew he wouldn’t go any further unless she gave into his demand.

Gwen had never been the type of person to follow through with things that disinterested her.

But when she found something she did like, Gwen had a tendency to dive headfirst. She usually worried about asking questions later, and now was no exception.

Doe eyed, Gwen reached for his wrist, her own fingers pressing on top of his.

“Daddy, ” she breathed.

His grin widened, sharp teeth coated in black ichor and saliva before the light went out.

Gwen didn’t have a moment to react before Ambrosius finally crossed the short distance, fingers sliding into folds.

A gasp escaped her, her hand dragging up to hold onto his wrist as Gwen tried not to lose her fucking mind as he explored.

“Lean back for me.”

His voice sounded like it was everywhere, but Gwen did as he asked.

She’d do anything he wanted as long as he kept touching her.

Soon, her cutoffs were hanging around her feet and Ambrosius was lifting her.

Gwen scrambled, scooting up so her back was flat against the table.

She could hear the scroll case roll to the other side, and the doll—well, Gwen didn’t care about that at the moment.

With her legs free, Gwen widened them, allowing him more access to her.

He leaned in close enough for her to clutch the lapel on his jacket.

She bit her lip when his fingers lazily circled her entrance.

As if he had all of eternity to play with her.

Ever impatient, Gwen moved her hips and tried to muffle a groan when the motion caused his finger to slip inside.

When he started to move, Gwen tightened her jaw, trying to stifle the noises he was pulling from her.

An odd attempt to deny him, still, but it proved useless.

A moan escaped her, hand tangling in his hair and tightening in angry humiliation.

This appeared to please him, as the sound of terrible laughter echoed around her.

“You may be bad at your job, Gwendolyn, but you want to be a good girl for me, don't you?” Ambrosius asked before adding another finger.

Fuck.

Fuck.

None of this should be working for her at all. She hated him, and hadn’t he admitted to not liking her a moment before? Yet, none of that mattered as Gwen pressed her hips frantically against the fingers that came to meet her. She was hot, hair sticky against her temple as she writhed on the table. Pleasure was building, but so was the small layer of fear as the light flashed, bathing the room in bursts of light.

In those small moments when light met the dark, Gwen could see Ambrosius above her. He looked depraved, eyes glowing in the darkness, and a wild grin across his face. Black ichor practically coated his mouth, drool falling down his chin. Gwen swore she saw something else in those moments, hiding in the shadows. Something tall and curved jutting out from the top of his head before it was gone—

“Are you going to be good for me, Gwen?” Ambrosius asked. “Be good for me, my bittersweet. Promise to be good and—”

“Yes!” Gwen shouted. “Yes, I’ll be good, please, please! ”

His other hand came to her throat, trailing up to hold her jaw. His fingers grew into knife-like points, grazing her skin. He guided her half-lidded gaze to him and caught her eye.

“Be a good girl now and come to Daddy,” he said with terrible perverse glee.

Gwen did with a near violent ecstasy, fisting his hair as one last angry, defiant act. Pleasure that paled in comparison to her dreams had her twisting on the table. Her breathing came in harsh gasps, mingled with babbling curses. She cursed him and herself as she shuddered in the aftermath, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

Ambrosius’ fingers slowly withdrew, leaving her with a sense of emptiness, but strangely satisfied, despite the sliver of humiliation tainting it. When Gwen opened her eyes, it was to the light and a very human-looking Ambrosius. He eyed his damp fingers before bringing them to his mouth, revealing that monstrous tongue once again.

“Oh, my bittersweet,” Ambrosius hummed, all honeyed again. “Every part of you tastes like all my favorite wicked flavors.”

With a flick of his wrist, his cane appeared, and he shot Gwen another self-satisfied grin.

“I’d love to stay for seconds, but I’m afraid duty calls. Remember to be good for me, read the scroll, and finish the doll.”

And with a wink, Ambrosius disappeared the moment Gwen blinked.