Page 40 of Going to Hell
Internally swearing, I tilted my head to the side and got on with the door opening.
“No,” he said softly. “Return your fingers to my flesh. Caress me. Flay me. I care not which but only that you touch me.”
Wow. C’adon’s messed-upness just leveled up by ten.
And each time he made those comments, my pity for him increased. How could he be so desperate that he’d willingly let me hurt him? That was just sick. Hell had really messed with him hard.
My fingers moved in a consoling stroke, and he made another sound of both pleasure and pain.
“Is this real? No, her affection is never real. It’s a game. A new game. I hate her games. No, I love them.”
He shuddered, and a tormented sound escaped him.
Doing my best not to give in to the increasingly consuming need to hug him, I peeked inside the soul-filled room and scanned the transparent faces for my uncle. After a minute, I closed the door, once again tasting bitter disappointment.
I stepped back, ready to keep going despite how absolutely tired I was. C’adon had other ideas.
His arms snaked around me, one behind my head and the other on the small of my back. He reeled me back in, chuckling at my slight resistance.
“Even in my dreams, you oppose our union.”
Union?
That woke me up.
Panic set my heart racing, and I prayed he meant an emotional or spiritual union. Yet, his comment about taking what he wanted still rang in my mind. Considering the way his fingers caressed my back through my dress, I doubted he meant anything but a physical union. His steel hold continued to tighten until my cheek was firmly pressed against his rapidly rising and falling chest.
“Fight me if you wish. I tire of waiting for your pleasure. You are never pleased. I will have you.”
His hand drifted down to my ass, and my eyes went wide when he squeezed.
I wanted to knee him, to fight. Instead, I used one of the tricks my uncle had taught me. Granted, it was for getting away from other humans, but I didn’t have any other options.
I closed my eyes and went limp.
C’adon grunted and changed his grip to keep me from slithering to the floor.
“No, no, no,” he muttered, loosening his hold.
The moment he shifted my weight to one arm so he could tap my cheek, I twisted out of his hold and walked away as if nothing terrifying had just happened to me.
His laugh echoed through the halls, louder than my pulse thundering in my ears.
“I love her games.”
Well, I sure as hell didn’t,I thought, trying to control my shaking.
He didn’t claim his spot at the next door, preferring to watch me instead. Probably so he could attempt to figure out the rules of whatever new game he thought I was playing.
It’s called the anti-union game, and if you try that move again, I’m busting some balls,I thought.
It was definitely a good thing I was cursed and couldn’t speak because I had a feeling I would have started muttering to myself by now. Only, he’d likely think that was some kind of game, too.
Whether it was his intent or not, C’adon was wearing me down. What I wouldn’t give for a few hours of safety and solitude to reset. The thought had me silently snorting as I understood what I’d just wished for. My old house. My prison. How messed up was it to want that back? Yet, considering what I’d been through and seen since arriving in Hell, my yearning for the hell I knew wasn’t that unreasonable.
When I tried the handle of the current door and found it locked, C’adon moved closer and watched me dig into my cleavage for the key. It was a little slippery in there from my sweat and general unwashedness, and I fought to not cringe.
“Yes, yes,” he rumbled. “Look at the way her fingers dance upon her skin. Oh, beauty. Oh, day eternal. I yearn for my treasure. One touch. Mmm. One taste. I would give her the world for a sample.” He growled, turning angry in a blink. “Igaveher the world. Look at what she’s done. No more. Give no more.” The anger vanished, and longing returned. “Her fingers. Oh, the fragile mounds that they touch. So soft. So firm. So ripe.”
