Page 31 of Scent Of Obsession
No, I was all monster.
The one the hero conquered on his quest.
The banished one.
A beast who existed only for a cold purpose.
“What’s this place anyway?” She sniffed, erasing one of her tears with her palm, done with her thirst. “What type of man are you?”
The kind who collects souls to his dark realm.“I create a holy garden, an emerald field, while I corrupt each apple for Adam and Eve to fall.” I was the snake, the voice saying out loud what they secretly craved. I created a garden, but I would never taste the poisoned apple and fall like they did.
“Will you hurt me?” She tried to read into my soul, having more faith in humans than she should have.
“No.”Not if you keep your distance from me. Not if you disappear from my mind. Not if you stop surprising me.“But I could.” And a part of me wanted to.
I wanted her to be mine.
Mine to play with, possess, and own.
She’d awakened a possessiveness in me I’d never had.
For once, I wanted to taste the apple, and that was dangerous.
“Radcliff…” My body jolted with electricity at the sound of my name on her pouty lips, which were asking to be sucked, beaten, abused. “Which perfume do you want me to create?”
The pulse in her throat betrayed that she already knew the answer to that after what she’d witnessed tonight.
“I think you know, and you smelled it.”
The arousal.
The carnal desire.
The fire burning your core.
“An aphrodisiac,” she dropped, out of breath.
I ambled through my office, passing behind the sofa, my steps filling the silence. Inside the Devil’s Corpse, a powerful aphrodisiac was hidden, multiplying the senses and exposing the most hidden desires. It wasn’t the first in history—pumpkin pie, chocolate, maca, ginseng, jasmine, they all were to some degree an aphrodisiac. Throughout time, Roman kings and queens created Spanish fly potions to get what they wanted from their lovers, organizing orgies. Moral of the story? Just like the Marquis de Sade and his whores: dead. All the civilizations tried to achieve it. Not everyone could play the Devil’s work. But the Devil’s Corpse had a power I’d never encountered before. I had the show, the food, the music—all I was missing was the smell. The aphrodisiac.
I stooped behind Lily, my lips so close to her neck. Her gaze remained stuck on the windows, but the goose bumps on her skin felt my presence.
“Yes,” I whispered. I wanted people to show themselves for who they truly were. Weak, pathetic, and easily dominated by their compulsions—while making a good deal of money out of it. And what was better to create the most exquisite torture on Earth, to submit to your desires that weaken you, than an angel herself.
“It’s impossible,” she stated.
“Well, you better make it possible, then, Lily. Because if you don’t…” My hand skimmed across the bare skin on her shoulder. “Let’s hope you do.”
She whirled around, standing up from the couch. Facing me, she pierced me with flames of hatred in her eyes. It was almost cute.
“You’re a monster.”Finally.
“Don’t act so surprised, little witch.”
“You’re crazy.” She spat out the words as if she were reciting an incantation, casting a curse on me.
A sneer drew across my lips. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Her lower lip quivered. I thought she’d rush away in fear, but she maintained eye contact despite her watery eyes. “I want to be able to make my own perfume. That’s my condition.”
