Lake of Sin (Prince of Lust #4)

Chapter 1

1

I sat in the wake of Furfur’s departure with revelations dripping over my flesh.

I had been given pleasure, and I had taken pleasure. These were new developments for me, new waters to wade through, but I was thrilled. To have more ways to use my body made me a better servant. In a selfish way, it would excite me further. The prospect of being used sounded ever more delicious with the thought that I could experience pleasure too. . .

Why hadn’t I dreamt of that before? So used to being God’s servant, I had never considered having another serve me. I thought of Galatians 1: “ For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

I wondered: Am I seeking the approval of God, or the devil? Am I seeking the approval of myself?

I was no servant of Christ, no bitch to be lead. With the Earl of Asmodeus’ Circle satisfied, I had three more to meet before my Lord permitted me to stand before it. I needed to experience pleasure with a Marquis, a Prince, and a Duke of Hell.

I should have stayed silent and dutiful, committing myself to the final three before

I kept Asmodeus in my heart, and I called out to it.

“Do you hear me?”

It answered immediately, “I hear you.”

The wind carried the booming voice of Asmodeus. Beneath me, jet-black waves tossed themselves against the rocks with raucous cracks. I breathed in deep, sulphur settling into my lungs, and found I did not know what to say. I had Asmodeus’ attention and no thoughts to share.

I wanted my Lord to calm me, and I wanted to hear it was proud of me. I wanted it to tell me I was worthless beyond my body, and yet I also craved to feel important. I wanted it to know I did this out of a kind of love and as a bid for my future. I sought eternal pleasure, yes, but also a chance to be eternally myself. To embrace every vicious want in me.

Eventually, I said, “Three left to pleasure, my Lord.”

Asmodeus’ hum of approval rumbled over the earth, shaking the land.

And then, without thinking, I said, “Will you please me , when I am by your side?”

I had never been so bold to Asmodeus before. Shivering, I remembered the strength of its appearance when it had come to me in the monastery. It had thrown me across the room; it had possessed the power to crush me, and without a doubt, it could do the same to me if it wished. Most likely, it could have done a lot worse since I had existed fully in its realm.

The sky darkened, and the rumbling turned unhappy. Still, I did not throw myself into apology. I stayed seated, fingers pressed against the warm, rough stone of Furfur’s circle, and I waited for punishment, or for words.

And the world changed.

Shadow fell over the land. More than shadow—a darkness so dense I could see nothing. Then, flashing out from the fog, a clawed red hand shot toward me.

I couldn’t move. Fingers clutched around my neck and hauled me up. Instantly, all the pressure clogged in my throat, and with my trachea crushed, no air could get in. I thrashed. I kicked weakly at nothing, and no face resolved from the shadows, no more of the body. I knew Asmodeus was enraged with me. It ruled this plane, and I had overstepped.

“You little cretin. You whore. You, who I plucked from inconsequence to lead to bodily glory!”

Its voice boomed thunderous. Sound crowded into my ears, a stench of sulphur into my nostrils. What little air I could get down, I gagged on.

“You defy me now? So close to the end, to your prize? You have already given me your soul; if your body is not mine, then you are worthless!”

But that wasn’t what I had meant at all. I struggled to speak. All that came out was, “To be… better !”

An outraged scoff. A chime sounded somewhere, and discordant trumpets, and I remembered Asmodeus had been an angel, once: a grand design from God’s hand. “Better? Better!”

It released me, and I dropped. No ground rushed up to meet me. I fell and fell for a small eternity, and when I accepted the fall—the constant flip of my stomach, the rise of fear in my body—and recovered from the choking, I spoke again.

“A true servant of the flesh should know his own wants!”

Suddenly the ground was there. I landed and rolled, my poor body flinching from expected pain. The fog of darkness still enveloped me, but Asmodeus had not spoken again. So, I went onto my knees and tried again, this time with proper decorum.

“I propose that I am not fully a whore until I can beg for everything I want. I say that one of the demons I pleasured—” and I paused, reframing, “—that I experienced pleasure with , showed me this. I am still a creature of shame. I wish not to be, before I come to you, my Lord.”

For a long time, there was no response. I braced myself for the possibility that this was my punishment. I was set to languish in the umbral dark for as long as Asmodeus wished. But then two red eyes blinked open in the dark, and Asmodeus was there with me.

“Lord.” I pushed myself fully into the ground. My heart raced, like my body could tell this was the real form of Asmodeus, not the watery shade I had managed to summon back in the abbey. “Your demons will tell you how loyal I am to you. I dedicate my life and my eternity to you. But I cannot fully be your creature if I do not know myself.”

The haze dissipated slowly, impenetrable black becoming a soft twilight. When it next spoke, Asmodeus’ voice had taken on a new, softer tone.

“You continue to surprise me, little blasphemer.”

I did not know if this was a compliment or a critique, and so I stayed unmoving in my bow.

“You now are so very different to the man who summoned me.”

Something sharp pressed beneath my soft palate and I was forced to raise my head. A sharp nail bed against my flesh; I gulped as I looked into the porous red eyes of Asmodeus and found them full of interest. There was nothing else to see beyond its eyes, but they seduced me.

The fingers moved to clench my cheeks, nails digging hard against the soft flesh. Pop me , I thought. Leave a mark. Make me yours.

“Do what you must to free yourself from the shackles of your shame. Delight in pleasure. And if you lure my demons into touching you how you wish to be touched, then you are even more alluring than I first expected.”

It felt. . . good to hear that. I shivered with relief and glanced up. Though Asmodeus had not fully appeared before me, those red eyes stared at me.

And the devil winked.