I decide to switch tactics, changing my demeanor and smiling widely. “Awe, Hell has found love at first sight. How sweet,” I mock, trying not to show the effect he has on me.
He slides his hand up into the back of my hair, gripping a fistful and yanking it back forcefully, inflicting a teasing pain that entices a hiss from my lips. As his knife digs into my windpipe, asserting his dominance, a tremor of both agony and sick pleasure courses through me.
Seemingly reveling in my pain, he lowers his face, carefully running his nose up my jaw as he growls his response. “Love? No, Noir. What I possess for you is far more intense and deeply disturbing. Something that eclipses any form of love, leaving behind only a haunting stain of darkness in its wake.”
Lifting his head, his lips touch mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me, and he clenches his teeth viciously against them. “Obsession.”
We pause, the tension thick in the air as I pant through my nose. His lips lightly brush over mine, igniting a twisted longing within me. Surrendering to the weight of it, my heavy eyelids close involuntarily, “But you don’t even know me.” I whisper in a haze.
His smoky breath mingles with mine as he responds, “I don’t need to know who the fuck you were, Noir. Once I set eyes on you, I knew everything about your past would be lost. Your future, your fate—they're all mine now,” his voice is hushed, yet full of promise. “They belong to me. That's the only Noir I will ever know—the one we shape. And in the process, she will become my obedient little slut.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
His words are carving through me like a sharp knife, stripping away my defiance. I feel exposed, and vulnerable, as if he's peeling back layers of my identity with each syllable just because he knows he can. There's a dangerous edge to his tone, a vow of dominance and control that both frightens and intrigues me. Part of me wants to fight back at the thought of being reduced to nothing more than his obedient plaything, yet another part is disturbingly aroused by the thought of surrendering to his power.
He moves his blade slowly down the front of my throat, aiming toward the curve of my breasts and each passing moment becomes a threat, the possibility of its cut hanging in the air. The sexual tension solidifies, suffocating me in its toxicity. Feeling my heart smashing against my chest, we move our lips teasingly over one another’s, almost as if they are toying with the possibility of giving in to our desires.
“I'm going to slice your beautiful body to pieces, Little Dolly, making every scar you own as mine. And you’re going to come hard while I fucking do it,” he vows.
Fuck.
Just as he leans in to kiss me, a woman’s throat clears behind him, shattering the charged atmosphere. We both pause, lips still touching and my eyes snap open, locking onto his. His spiralling orbs search mine before he growls aggressively, showing his frustration. “Get the fuck out, Ma.”
Just as he is about to lean in again, she suddenly raises her voice toward him. “Hell!”
Snapping back to reality and realizing what I have done, my teeth clench with annoyance, but he merely offers me the faintest evil sneer, knowing he almost had me before reluctantly stepping back and releasing my hair.
Withdrawing his knife from my breast, he grants me much-needed breathing space and I straighten myself, adjusting my outfit. He calmly turns away, giving me a view of his strong, tattooed back.
My gaze then meets Madame's, finding her observing with a curious expression, her eyes darting between us both. As Hell rests against the wall, staring at me, but Madame's approach captures my attention.
“Look at you. Amazing!” she gasps out.
She scans me from head to toe, a broad smile lighting up her face, causing me to peer down at myself. “It’s not too much?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.
“Oh, darling. Nothing is ever too much here.” She inclines her head toward the door, signalling for me to leave the chamber. “Now let’s see if you can dance in it.”
I offer an awkward nod before passing her, stealing a quick glance at Hell before exiting the chamber and making my way towards the main tent.
After watching Noir leave the chamber, my gaze flashes to Madame's, and I notice her suspicious glance. I keep my expression neutral although I am absolutely fucking reeling inside from her interruption.
When I sense her silent gesture for me to follow her, I push myself away from the wall with a growl, feeling the unbearable ache in my balls because of Dolly’s teasing bullshit.
As we enter the tent, I take in the usual bustling scene: dancers training on the aerial silks and trapeze, fire dancers twirling flames, and the death wheel spinning with Soul practising on it. Beyond the pulsating music, there’s a distant roar of Wrath's bike outside, training for our next performance.
My attention is momentarily caught by Noir as she approaches Blush, but Madame's hand wrapping around my wrist brings me back to reality. I shoot her a sharp look at the unwanted touch, but she simply pulls me to sit with her in the front row. As I settlein the seat, I sigh heavily, leaning back with my legs spread wide, bracing myself for the unwanted lecture.
“I want you to leave her alone, Hell.” She orders as predicted.
I raise an eyebrow, fixing my eyes on Noir as she stretches in a way that almost gets me hard again, then reach into my jeans pocket to retrieve my cigarettes.
Once I have one lit and between my lips, I respond, my words muffled. “No can do. I’m fucking set on her.”
Knowing I can’t control my impulses when I say I am set on something, Madame shifts in her seat, facing me and I feel my jaw tense with agitation.
“I mean it, Hell. I like her, and she’s good at what she does. She fits in perfectly here, and I don’t need you playing your twisted games with her,” she says, calmly trying to rein me in. My eyes flash to hers, a hint of confusion flickering in my expression at her words, and she continues. “Besides, she came with a guy. A weak guy, but a guy none the less. “
My teeth grind together at the thought of that pathetic cunt, every fiber of my being resisting the urge to unleash the murderous words building inside me.
