“I am going to ask for mercy on you, but they will undoubtedly want me to give them something in return.”
“Like what?” I question, tilting my head to the side.
He shrugs his shoulders, unbothered. “It could be absolutely anything that the cards draw.”
“Cards?”
He nods. “Yes, the cards of skulls. You’ll see tomorrow.”
While scanning his painted face, I become lost in my thoughts for a while until I speak again.
“When are you ever going to let me see you without the paint? I ask, but he doesn’t answer.
Leaning in close, I reach up and delicately slide two fingers down his cheek, smudging the black paints that conceal his handsome features.
“I want to see the real you, Hell.”
As I gaze at him curiously, studying his reaction, he stays motionless, his whirling contacts peering deep into my eyes. Softly swiping my thumb over his bottom lip, I smear more paint, feeling the oily texture cling to my fingertips.
“Beneath the façade and the persona you play for everyone else. Give me a part of you that nobody else has seen.”
He stays mute until finally, he gestures toward the bedside table. With confusion, I reach over, pull the drawer open and find some makeup wipes. A smile creeps on my lips as I lift them out.
Settling back, I tug a couple free and look at him. I raise the wipe to his face, gently removing the blackness that always masks him.
As I finish wiping away the last of the paint, he lowers his head, pinching his contacts and removing them one by one. Iwait in breathless anticipation, my heart thumping in my chest. Finally, he lifts his eyes to mine, and I suck in a sharp breath involuntarily.
I stare at him, my gaze widening as I take in every detail. His sharp, chiselled features. Tanned skin with a shade of stubble. The way his loose curled, black hair cascades over his forehead. His dark, thick eyebrows. His ice-blue eyes, almost grey, piercing, and beautiful, framed by black lashes. His bottom right lip piercing is more noticeable and his soft lips. When he smirks ever so slightly, a small dimple appears at the corner of his mouth, making him look both dangerous and undeniably captivating.
“You look so different,” I manage to murmur.
He lifts a brow, clearly unsure of what my words mean, and I quickly reassure him. “In a good way, of course. I just didn’t expect…” I shudder, trailing off before continuing, my tone edged with awe and desire. “Fuck, you’re so hot. I didn’t expect your eyes to be that colour.”
Now his face is bare, I can clearly see his jaw flex as he grinds his teeth, his enigmatic eyes sweeping down my front, igniting a burning need to spread through my core.
“God, you have to ruin me like this, without your paints and contacts. Take it all. I don't care. Screw my ass until it's nothing if you want and do it deep.”
His gaze lifts to mine swiftly, stunned by my filthy mouth, but I’m serious. I need to feel this man all over me, I am fucking feral for it.
Without warning, he grabs my throat harshly before slamming me down onto the soft mattress. With him between my legs, his hips grind against mine, his hard length sliding vertically against my bare pussy as he steals my lips, devouring my mouth withan animalistic hunger. I writhe beneath him, dragging my nails down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. He rips the towel away from my body with a growl of frustration and we both become lost in the intensity of the moment.
It’s late evening and I slip my cropped leather jacket up my arms, preparing to face the society with Hell. Nervous doesn't even begin to describe how I feel, but I know I need to ready myself for absolutely anything. I pull my tight black high-waist jeans further up, then turn and head for the front door.
Outside, it's dark and I spot Wrath and Soul already on their bikes while Hell waits for me to join him. I can hear the carnival buzzing with life in background, open again to the public under Madame’s orders. Stopping in front of Hell, he slides a black, matte helmet over my head, then grabs my waist, lifting me onto the back of his bike. As he mounts the front, I wrap my arms tightly around him. He revs the engine with a booming roar, then speeds forward, leaving the carnival grounds behind us.
The cold night breeze whips around us as we ride, and I hold on tighter, feeling Hell’s muscles beneath my hand on his abs. The tension of what’s to come tightens in my chest with every passing minute.
After some time, we ride through massive iron, spiked gates, and I peer over Hell’s shoulder until I see a huge black mansion looming in sight, resembling a castle with bright lights from below illuminating it. When we pull up, Hell kicks out the stand and dismounts. I lift the helmet off my head, taking in the surroundings and noticing armed men guarding every corner. Hell takes the helmet, drawing my attention to him, then slides his arm around the middle of my back, lifting me off the bike.
When I’m standing, he brings his face close to mine. “Listen to me very carefully, Dolly,” he murmurs seriously, and I give a tiny nod, swallowing hard. “Only speak when you’re spoken to. Don’t say more than you need to and don’t ever fucking object to what they ask me to do, no matter what it is.”
I stare into his eyes, my pulse racing. He gives me a firm kiss on the lips before taking my hand and pulling me toward the unknown. The huge doors open, and Soul and Wrath trail behind us. I look around the dark, castle-like décor, noticing only candles are providing light. It seems Hell knows exactly where he is going, his aura radiating confidence. We finally reach a large door, and Hell pauses, glancing back at me with a final, reassuring squeeze of my hand before pushing it.
When the door creaks open, I immediately notice the vast expanse of the room, pillars standing throughout. At the far end, a long, extended wooden table dominates the space, with three men seated behind it, side by side.
As we come to a stop, Hell releases my hand, his warmth dissipating, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable, but I try not to show my fear, though inside, I am screaming.
Hell takes a few steps forward before stopping in front of the men, all three of them intimidating, powerful, and dressed in black suits. Their presence is overwhelming, and I can feel their eyes boring into me, assessing, judging.
