Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Abaddon pulls out his cock, and my mouth waters shamefully. It’s a work of art. The head is long and thick, perfectly shaped with a bead of pre-cum glistening in the moonlight. “Getting ready to fuck.”
“Put your dick away, you idiot. We aren’t gonna fuck.”
“We aren’t?” Abaddon and I ask simultaneously.
Asmodeus turns his head to the side, “I get him being disappointed,” he says, pointing to Abaddon, “but I’m shocked at you, Little Doe.”
“I’m not disappointed,” I lie. “I’m relieved.”
“I joke about fucking dead shit, but I don’t like cold, stiff bodies. I want to fuck her, Mo.”
My heart speeds up at Abaddon’s statement. I’m convinced this man would fuck my cold, dead body just because he could.
“I’ll take your deal,” I blurt. I unbutton my pants and pull down the zipper. Sliding my hand into my underwear, I present him with a small piece of paper. I’m grateful they didn’t bother doing a cavity search when they knocked me out. “But I want assurances I get my information.”
Asmodeus leans in and closes his eyes as he inhales the paper in my hand. “Fuck, don’t you smell good enough to eat?”
My body heats. I’m probably blushing so hard that I’m redder than a tomato. “Do we have a deal or not?”
“I already set the terms, Doe.”
My mouth thins. “Take the paper, Asmodeus.”
“What deal?” Abaddon asks like a petulant child being kept out of a secret.
“We fuck her, and in return, we give her the info she came for,” Asmodeus responds.
My heart pounds in my chest as I watch his long thick fingers open the scrap of paper. Asmodeus’ head rises slowly, and suddenly, I can’t breathe. He says nothing; he just examines me with those piercing blue eyes as if waiting for me to explain myself. I choke on fear and the taste of regret, wondering if that paper was enough to change the entire trajectory of our exchange.
Relief floods me when Abaddon’s voice breaks the silence. “What does it say?”
“Looks like this little doe is on a fact-finding mission for the Cinders.”
“The Cinders?” a third voice questions.
We all turn to the door and stare at Iblis, leaning against the frame, his fingers mindlessly rubbing a rosary.
Asmodeus approaches me and runs the back of his index finger along my cheek. “Apparently, we have something of sentimental value to them, and this pretty little doe was sent to retrieve it.” He bends, keeping his voice low enough for only me to hear. “This will cost you more than a game of cat and mouse.”
The heady scent of rust and something woodsy and all man consumes my senses, making them foggy with lust. A part of me wants to fight and tell him to go fuck himself, to run and find another way to get the information I’ve been searching for. But another part pulls me to him, desperate to be closer, even for a moment. “What’s the price?”
He sneers as his warm hand moves to the back of my head, and the heat of his fingers pressing into my flesh causes me to shiver. “I’m going to need a taste of the merchandise before I deem it an investment worth making.”
I’m unsure what he has in mind. Is he going to bite me? Cut my wrist with a knife and slowly fill a glass with my blood?
My question doesn’t permeate for long as Asmodeus grips my hair and tugs painfully. My reflection bounces back at me as I stare into the blood-filled baptismal pool. My brain wanders off to other places, trying to calculate how many bodies died to fill the tub. Drops of blood fall gently on my face, a reminder of the depravity of the men around me and my fate if they so choose.
A sharp pain springs at my roots as my head is yanked back, and I’m face to face with an enormous cock.
“What are you waiting for, my little doe? Open up.”
Chapter Twelve
IBLIS
I’m frozen while Abaddon grips my hip with one hand and my dick with the other. The little beauty is kneeling in front of me, eyes wide. She looks traumatized but appears strong, like she’s daring us to break her. Asmodeus had that same look twenty years ago. But over time, she’ll break just like he did. You’re bound to lose when inside hell, surrounded by demons.
Asmodeus yanks her head back and viciously pulls her hair. This act isn’t to show his dominance over her, but it’s hurting me. A reminder that I’ll never see light. I’ll never be good or clean. He knows all too well that I won’t refuse her or the twins, that I’m a slave to them and their desires. Because of my perpetual guilt, I’ll bind myself to whatever hell they create for me.
“What’s your name?” I whisper, peering down at her.