Page 42 of Grotesque
I didn’t believe in soul mates; they didn’t exist where I came from, but having this glorious, devilish meal served up to me so easily, had me wondering if there was some truth to the concept. I felt like I had been waiting for her my whole life. Even before the curse, someone had thought to create her just for me.
“Will you let me do whatever I want to you?”
Her brow furrowed. “That depends.”
I tsked and drew my thumb over her brows. I was starting to like that look on her too. It was cute. “Have I done anything you don’t like?”
The bed creaked as she leaned back to look at me fully. “No, but–”
“Yes or no, Sorcha.”
Her teeth worked over her pretty lower lip once more. If she kept doing that, I’d have to fuck it again. A couple of times her teeth had skimmed over my cock, and it had only further fed my desire.
“No,” she finally answered.
I tweaked one of her nipples. “Good girl.”
She lurched forward to her elbows. “Wait, Corban. How do you know my name?”
I pressed a finger to my lips. “A question for another night.”
I stepped back into the shadows that had crept around my feet and had the sweet satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen when I disappeared into their depths.
Golden light cracked through the gap in the curtains, casting a calming glow over the bedroom. It might have been a relaxing scene had the entire room not reeked of sex, and had my body not been sore and aching with proof of it. I laid there for the longest time, mind spinning over everything that had happened the night before.
I was for sure going to Hell. Because if it wasn’t the Devil himself I was sleeping with, it was most certainlysomekind of demon.
I shoved the sheets and cum-stained clothes into the wash and showered. As messed up as it was, I couldn’t help but admire the new bruising on my hips as I scrubbed myself. My throat was raw, and lips still swollen, but otherwise my upper body – aside from the wounds at my neck – was unmarred from Corban’s touch. At least he was a considerate monster.
I checked the house to make sure he wasn’t lurking somewhere and pulled Rosaline’s diary from where I’d hidden it in the library. I set it on the middle of the table and began pulling out the rest of the books lining the shelves, flipping through them in hopes of… what? I wasn’t sure. Maybe Macky had stashed something important away somewhere.
Mom had found money behind picture frames in the house she inherited, but since Glamis Manor came with nothingbutmoney, I hadn’t thought to look for a secret stash. There were at least six hundred books I needed to get through. As I pulled each from its nook, I half hoped one would be a secret lever, leading me to Macky’s treasure or Corban’s secret lair.
After sorting through at least half of the books, I gave up and flopped onto the couch with Rosaline’s diary. If I was lucky, Rosaline would have all the answers I needed.
December 2, 1812
It has been some time since I’ve written but so much has been happening, that I simply cannot wrap my mind around it all. My angel returned to me some nights ago, which is why I have not had the opportunity to write. Where darkness once left him trapped, he can now walk in the sunlight like any man.
So, hecanbe out in the day? I glanced around, half expecting to find Corban lurking in a shadow, before pulling the diary closer to me. I felt like a guilty child, with my hands on something I wasn’t supposed to have, something I’d be punished for should anyone find out. To be safe, I locked the library door and moved to sit on the floor in the corner, where I was pretty sure I’d be out of sight of the windows.
He has been joining me in the mornings and through most of the days. Well, whenever Gerald is not at home, or is busy in hisstudy. His name is Corban, a good strong name for someone as beautiful as he.
Even though I’d suspected the mystery man in Rosaline’s diary to be the same one that haunted me, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when his name confirmed it. It was a stupid reaction, but one I felt nonetheless. I turned to the next page aggressively.
He is a prince! Can you believe that? And the best part is he wants to take me to his kingdom when he returns. He is from ‘Undaland’, a place for the divine. He says there are more like him and that is something I can hardly wrap my head around. How can there be more than one creation so divine?
He says there are three things I must do before he can take me to his world. The first is I must give my body to him, the second is that I must give my heart to him, and the third is I must give my will over to him. I was offended by this because does he not already know that he already possesses all of these things? That I would go anywhere with him, should he just ask?
I know you are thinking I am terrible to betray Gerald like this, but I cannot help it. He is dull in comparison. Corban breathes life into me. He makes me feel things I never knew could exist. I thought I knew what love was until I met him. The pleasure he gives me, the devotion he shows, Gerald could never equal it.
I frowned. Corban didn’t strike me as the princely type. With that thought came a gut-wrenching realization. Rosaline had killed her husband and then herself. What had triggered her to do it? Or was the story just a story and Corban had killed them both?
I read through a few more pages but Rosaline’s line of thought turned repetitive. The next month was nothing but entries whereshe gushed over Corban and how kindly he treated her. One excerpt even mentioned that he had fed her sweets by hand.
I snorted at the image. There was no way the man that had throat-fucked me stupid last night was the same one playing the gentleman in Rosaline’s story.
December 30, 1812
