Suddenly, the lights cut out, plunging me into darkness. My breathing quickens, becoming the only sound I can hear apart from the ringing in my ears. Panic sets in, and I start running, banging into walls as loud, heavy footsteps chase me from behind. My shrieks of horror echo through the building until I spot a set of red, swirling eyes far ahead.
Hyperventilating, I turn on my heel, only to see another pair of green, vortexed orbs closing in. I run again, my hands scraping down the walls in a frantic search for an exit. The eerie laughter of men surrounds me, growing louder, more menacing.
Suddenly, I bang into something hard, and I stumble backward from the impact, but before I can react, I'm hoisted over a strong shoulder. I scream and kick out as they carry me, still in panic mode, but they are seemingly unfazed by my fight, until we enter a dimly red-lit room.
With a thud on my back, I'm lowered onto a hard surface, the impact knocking the air out of me. Once my vision clears, I'm met with the sight of Hell looming over me, his gaze stern. As I lie on a wooden table, he is positioned between my legs, his hands braced beside my head. After scrutinizing my frightened expression with curiosity, he lowers his face toward mine, and I draw in a quick breath.
“What the fuck are you doing in here alone, Dolly?” He asks, biting on his words.
I shake my head once, not willing to tell him about seeing Arabella since it was clearly some fucked-up hallucination.
“Why were you guys scaring me like that?” I say, trying to catch my breath.
He tilts his head to the side, “What?”
I stay silent, wondering if my fear had made me imagine Soul and Wrath as well.
“You nearly got yourself fucking killed, Noir, and when the automatic lights cut out, you ran for your fucking life.”
I quickly change the subject, shifting the focus away from my vulnerable moment, trying to unwind my coiled body. “I was just curious. What is this place?”
I look up and glance around me, taking in the surroundings. A small black room illuminated by a single red bulb, sharp spikes protruding from the walls and ceiling, with a table in the centre. Hell's presence above me feels oddly comforting even though he creeps me the fuck out as well.
“It’s exactly what it’s called. The death rooms.” He responds.
I stare at him, searching his eyes, “You guys kill people here?”
“In here, they kill them fucking selves. Hence the death traps.”
My gaze drops to his lips. “Again, your warped perception is shining through, Hell.”
He suddenly grips the small of my waist in his large hands, pulling me further down the table until my crotch is pressed against his.
“And what would you do without my warped fucking perception, Noir? Your tiny body would have plummeted into those spikes if I didn’t think or watch you like I do.” His gaze hungrily wanders down my frame as he continues. “Nothing in this place is as dangerous as you being alone here with me though.” My breathing quickens, my body tense, and the weight of his words sink in. “Me saving you is becoming a regular occurrence, don’t you think, Dolly? I am now demanding shit in return.”
“The first one was your fault, so it doesn’t count.”
When I snap out the words, his black-painted mouth twitches with a small smirk, lowering his eyes again to my heaving chest before responding. “Maybe not, but this one definitely counts and I’m ready to collect the debt.”
“So, you didn’t just save me out of the goodness of your heart, Hell?” I ask, hoping for a lifeline.
He arches an eyebrow at my question. “Goodness? Heart? I have neither, pretty girl. I’m either completely empty or overflowing with darkness. Tonight, you get to decide which.”
I swallow hard, “I did say I would never let you touch me.”
His eyes flash to mine in an unsettling manner, and I can feel a swirl of conflicting emotions within me.
“Oh no, I won't be touching you if I can help it.” He responds calmly.
I feel confusion before he murmurs close to my face. “You’re going to make yourself fucking come in front of me. That’s what the fuck I want. I want to see what you look like when you’re actually coming apart.”
As his dirty words hang in the air, I find myself stunned, my lips parting slightly in surprise. While staring back into the depths of his whirling lenses, I am reminded by the emptiness that exists within me when it comes to pleasure. It's a void that has been shaped by a history of trauma. One that E has never been able to fill. His struggle with medication doesn’t help.
The truth is, I rarely find release by doing it myself either. Pleasure is non-existent in my life, a haunting memory that I have never truly experienced. It was stolen from me long ago, but now as Hell's heated gaze lingers on me with such ferocity, I am almost tempted to confront the reality of my own desires—or lack thereof. I could be rubbing or fucking my pussy with my dildo for hours and the orgasm might not strike, which is embarrassing. I would be humiliated if that happened in front of him.
“But this place, it’s—” I say anything to get out of it, knowing I am not mentally sane after the shit I just went through tonight.
He brings his mouth dangerously close to mine, cutting me off, and clenches his teeth with aggression that shows his inner sexual frustration. “You either do it or I fucking will. I am not letting you leave this place until I know your pussy is dripping and satisfied.”
