Make Me Sin (Dark Gods #1)

Chapter 8

It feels like I'm having an out-of-body experience, or maybe it's just an outer-life one. I don't find myself in the person that I've become, and the feeling that every decision I’m making lately is wrong is beginning to follow me around every day.

I want to leave for a walk but I have no place to go, and wandering around the hotel didn't work out that great this morning. Sure, I ran into my sister, but it’s not an opportune moment for family gatherings. And then there's Seth Malvagio. The man gives me the creeps, and for good reason. As attractive as he may be, he's also highly dangerous and people like him have women like me for lunch.

For a few good minutes, I walk around the suite without any pre-determined goal. I try to clear my mind so I can focus on the information the assistant provided us. The argument I just had with Nick doesn't help either. I need to do something with my life quickly before the damage this man is doing will be irreparable.

In a way, I'm glad he left. I don't know what I would have done if he had proposed to me. I don't want to break his heart but I don't want to give him false hope either. I don't see much of a future for us when this is done, but then again, I've been leaving him for the last six months and somehow I'm still here. I think I need someone to knock some sense back into me, even if it's the hard way. Maybe my sister could do that. I'm just not convinced I should call her. It's bad enough that I fucked up my own life, I don't want to fuck up hers as well.

My steps carry me in front of my full-height bedroom mirror. It's the first time I realized I only have small mirrors in my apartment back in Elko. I didn't seem to need them anymore and more surprisingly, I didn’t even miss them. But now that I can see myself from head to toe, I realize I'm not the shipwreck I considered myself to be.

And I realize another thing. This is the second time today I’ve seen myself in a full-length mirror. It’s only that my earlier image wasn't nearly as impressive as the one of the man who was standing behind me. Seth Malvagio comes to my mind again, and every time he does I grow more and more afraid he'll never leave it. He is the memorable kind. I just hope it's only because of his looks and not the vicious power he possesses.

I try to focus on myself again. I hadn't worn this kind of makeup in a long time. That's because it took me almost an hour to get ready to meet Mr. Malvagio. I usually just smudge something on my face and that is on the days I'm in the mood to even do my makeup.

I guess I hadn’t given a damn about myself in a long time, at least not in the way I'm really supposed to. And it's about time to remind myself that the life I've been living lately will never define me. I need to get back on my feet and the more I look at my reflection in the mirror, the more I'm starting to fall in love with myself again. I'm not a narcissist, I'm just regaining some self-esteem. It's not just because of the makeup. Actually, I'm starting to remove it with a wet wipe, trying to see myself again. I know I see my mirrored reflection every day, but I want to see my blue eyes without the eyeliner contouring them. My long thick lashes do enough of that trick and along with my high architectural cheekbone and the thick form of my lips manage to boost my mood.

I am beautiful and smart enough to be anyone I want to be. So why the fuck am I wasting my time with a douchebag like Nick?

I'm not well, far from it. I might even think it's my fall from grace. I put it down to the stress I've been dealing with lately, most of it provoked only by always overthinking things. I need to kick myself in the ass to move forward, but for that to happen I need to boost up my mood. I'm levitating somewhere between bliss and a mental breakdown. It's this kind of instability that sets me on a dangerous course.

I’m postponing going to the sanatorium for another time though. For now, I need to get myself into the shower and then into bed to catch up with sleep. Maybe the lack of rest is what’s making me act so crazy.

The feel of warm water running over me is one of my favorite sensations and that combined with the heavenly body lotion that I found in the bathroom—hotel complimentary, restores a part of my sexy attitude. Or maybe I'm just horny.

If my pussy doesn't start to behave itself, I'm gonna have to get the sewing kit—which I know has to be in one of the drawers—and zip it shut.

Still, she doesn't let me put on the extra-large shirt I usually wear to bed. Instead, a pair of silk panties jump in front of my eyes. Okay, maybe they don't jump and I go through the lingerie drawer especially looking for them. No one's gonna know anyway. I just pull them beneath the hotel robe and choose a matching silk nightgown to replace my usually worn top. All of this was meant for Nick, but I have the feeling he's never gonna get to enjoy it. The idea doesn't even bother me that much anymore. What actually bothers me is that my body is starting to act out of turn and that place between my thighs is constantly asking for attention, despite my best efforts to ignore it.

In a last attempt to calm myself down, I walk into the living room and pour myself a glass of water.

God, I wish it was alcohol.

It just happens there are a few bottles of wine in the minibar—hotel complimentary, of course. But I’m steering clear of that temptation. I know where alcohol would get me in this state of mind, and I'm not going to let my heart break over a douchebag like Nick.

Trying to divert that thought, I almost run to the bedroom where I flop onto the bed like there’s someone chasing me.

I watch too many movies and let the craziest scenarios develop in my head. I just never thought that the very next scenario that comes to my mind would be X-rated.

My mind runs through the fucked up connection between the person stalking me and Seth Malvagio.

Impossible , I try shaking off the thought. In fact, it seems so far-fetched that I'm starting to believe I didn't even have a stalker. Maybe it was just a coincidence and I was seeing things where they were not.

Still, Seth is there, in my mind. My needy vagina seems to be the one set on mentally stalking him.

He's hot, I'll give him that.

No, let me correct that! The man is pure sex on legs. I need to keep myself from drooling at the mere thought of him. He literally turns me into the yellow emoticon with saliva hanging out the corner of its mouth.

I hate being so melted over someone’s physique, because I know on the inside, he's as rotten as it gets. I feel it from the expanding evil blooming in his eyes, a malevolent force so intense that if I were to lose myself to him, not even an exorcism would help me escape.

My mother must have dropped me on my head when I was little because that also turns me on. I blame it on my prolonged lack of sex, and I can't help myself from feeling my nipples become rock-hard beneath my night dress.

I leap from the bed as if it's burning me and rush to the window to pull the curtains and fling open the double doors that lead to the balcony.

The view is superb, and I hope it will distract me from my body's agenda. I don't like the thought of solving my own problems due to the lack of other options. Doing it just for fun, as a bonus I sometimes get, is fine with me. But acting out of desperation while I still have a prospective future fiancé makes me sure I made some very wrong life decisions.

The night air, hot and sultry, brushes against my skin, enveloping my senses. It feels like a lover’s hot kisses melting on my cleavage and despite the unique warming sensation it stirs within me, it rubs me the wrong way. My restless core begins pulsing like it's warning me I need to solve the problem before I will internally implode and as much as I want to keep ignoring it, more dirty thoughts pile up to mess with my mind.

Somehow, I end up back in bed, tucked up to my neck, hoping for some semblance of sleep. I already know I'm not ready to rest, but I'm locked in a losing battle with my consciousness. Not too much of a fight anyway because I let my hand slip between my thighs, right on the silk panties I bought especially for Nick.

Nick... I try to focus on him as I feel my fingers coming to life. I don't want to think of myself as being the one doing the job. Call me weird, but it works out better this way. In fact, that's the only way it even fucking works. I don't even know why I want to think of Nick any longer. I blame it on the lack of any other male presence in my life.

I just close my eyes and try to envision him here... or more likely his tongue.

There isn't any way in which I could win this struggle with my body. I just relax, moving my hand over the silk material.

Can't blame a girl for wanting good foreplay.

My eyes squeeze shut, as I struggle to envision Nick’s face, but no matter how hard I try, he's not here. It's like I forgot what he even looks like. That's funny since I last saw him less than an hour ago.

The more I try to recall his features, the more elusive they become. It’s as if my mind has erased him completely.

Maybe it's for the best , I brace myself, knowing that I'm all alone for this particular job .

My hand keeps moving, though with no real use. I hate it when this happens, and I know it would take ages for me to finish or I will just give up before my fingers disintegrate. My hand is almost at the point of abandoning my pussy when I feel another hand overlapping mine and taking control.

It's like I'm afraid to ask my own mind whom it belongs to, and at the same time, too scared to open my eyes, fearing it all might vanish.

Who did I let inside my head?

My mind might not have succeeded in materializing Nick, but it brought a whole different man to play with me.

Even if I don't want to admit it to myself, I know exactly who he is. I'd recognize that cologne even if I’d had Covid. Seth Malvagio has come to my aid.

It feels wrong thinking of a man like him—so wrong that in the greater scheme of things, it almost feels right. I can't bother with morality any longer. I just let him take control of everything and buckle up for what will come.

I don't even feel when he gets behind me—probably because he's not really there. Still, the moist warmth of his breath is already relaxing on my shoulder.

I back into every inch of his manly chest—the bedpost in this case—but I allow myself to be delusional for all I care. I need a release, even if that means mind-fucking Seth.

And yeah, now he's just Seth because I don't want Mr. Malvagio, the vicious businessman. I want the tattooed god I saw walking to his car a few hours ago. Knowing that his body would never be close to mine in real life, makes me want it that much more each time my eyes close.

His manly hand covered in black ink unhurriedly sneaks under the strap of my nightgown, cupping my breast. In response, my nipples harden to a painful limit, needing those fingers that now just caress the surface of my panties to gain more speed. Hungrily, they listen to my desire and push the material aside to reach the place in need.

My head had fallen back by now, resting on the upper side of his shoulder, next to his own. He pulls me closer against his chest, so close that I'm almost struggling for air, but I don't want him to let me go even for a split second. I want him there, needing me the same way that I do, ready to satisfy my darkest fantasies.

There's something wrong with me on so many levels that I'm afraid to let myself even think about it. I just squeeze my eyes tighter and pray he won't disappear the same way Nick did. I still can't seem to get my boyfriend's face to pop in my mind while Seth's is so present, that I recall even the way his nostrils flinch every time Nick opens his mouth to say something. And don't even get me started on the way he cocks a brow, throwing that arrogant look he masters so well. I hate arrogant people. They make me want to desperately prove to them that they're no better than me, but in his case, that arrogance suits him so well that I'm starting to believe he's one of the few entitled to own it.

I'm almost lost to him, feeling the fingers digging inside my core, gaining juices from my body just to use them against my clit the very next instant.

I know the sensation that arises all too well, but I also know that it usually comes with a longer delay. Its impulsiveness takes me by surprise. It's sneaking up on me so fast that I'm almost reluctant to embrace it. I never manage to get the slightest satisfaction that fast, let alone feel that tempo rhythm coming to life that quickly.

I realize the pleasure wouldn’t let me wait for long, and I can't help myself from being surprised by its haste. I have to admit, my body usually postpones responding to this kind of touch, but now that Seth is here , it feels like an incoming impact with an asteroid.

Beads of sweat are gathering on my forehead like I've been hitting the gym all day. My feet dig into the mattress in hopes of finding stability to deal with the upcoming tension that's building within me.

The fluttering curtains bring me little to no relief. The sun is just setting, but the cooler air isn't here yet. Just the tormenting heat, combined with my own wave of warm arousal.

Seth's lips roam the crook of my neck, making my teeth clench, feeling his intense cologne surrounding me. God, I love that scent. It smells of all dirty thoughts put together in one place, coated with something so manly that it acts like pheromones blurring my senses.

I need his hand to move faster. He instantly complies with my command, getting his fingers to speed against my wet core. The pleasure is there. I can feel it waiting to break the surface, but tormenting me for a few moments more while the grip on my breasts grows to a painful limit.

I discovered a while ago that a small taste of pain turns me on. Nothing too pushed to the limit, just that added surge of adrenaline to break the routine.

I'm not sure why, but I never explored that part with Nick. It's probably because I realized it only one year ago when his grip on my hair got a little tighter during sex. He had come home after having a few extra glasses and couldn't assess his strength anymore. It was one of the few times I had an orgasm.

Still, I never opened the subject, mostly because we slowly grew apart in bed. I was never the shy kind, just didn't see the use in giving him pointers on what I liked since we couldn't get past the couch anyway.

And I fucking hate the five minutes of commercial break couch sex!

My nipples become so hard it’s almost painful. A hand grips one of my breasts, fingers expertly pinching my nipple. That incredible grinding against my clit is fueled by the kerosene the slight pain produces. I'm close, and I can feel it. I can barely find my place between the sheets as he gains control of the last conscious part of me. His fingers work harder inside me, deeper, faster, until he draws the last lines from my core to my folds and I find my release.

I can't hold back a loud moan as that uncontrollable shake takes hold of my body. “Seth!” His name fills the room seconds before I wrap both hands around my mouth as if anyone could hear me.

I must be losing it.

It takes a few minutes for me to recover and acknowledge that my release is coating my own fingers. Seth is long gone, replaced by the daylight reality—what's left of the day anyway. I’m all alone in the room. And happy to be so because I can finally realize how much of a loser I really am—almost engaged, and mind-fucking a man I don't want anywhere around me.

How fucked-up is that?

How fucked-up am I?

The fear of answering that question makes me bury my head in the pillow next to me. I just hit rock bottom and the main problem is that the dark side of me wants to keep Seth around for a few more rounds of entertainment. The thought of him made me come quicker than any other of my previous attempts ever achieved and I know my mind won't give him up so easily.

He's just like one of those perfect villains. Designed so even the last piece of hair on his head is irresistible, yet so poisonous that I am sure his touch would instantly kill.

Vegas is bad for my health—mental health, that is. A heist. A boyfriend that I no longer love, but still have feelings for. And a dangerous businessman who has the potential to steal my soul just by stepping into a room.

I need to get out of this town as soon as possible, and for that to happen I need to finish the damn job.

That will need to wait until tomorrow. I am too unstable right now to make any decisions that I would end up regretting in the future.

Cramping all the bedsheets around me, I nest myself in hopes of catching some sleep. Fatigue is getting to me, yet at the same time, there's something restless inside me that barely allows me to keep my eyes closed.

I need rest but there’s little chance of that happening since my mind races between the heist, the relationship I have with Nick, and the man who won't leave my mind—Seth Malvagio. Jesus, even his name sounds wrong. Wrong in all the right ways.

He might be God's perfect creation but I'm sure there’s a devil lurking within him, and I don't have any intention of discovering if my assumption is wrong or right. I just try to chase him away from my mind because at this point dealing with the problems I have with Nick seems like a safer alternative for my mental sanity. My head digs deeper into the pillows, fighting my demons and trying to clear my mind so I can get some sleep. I'm still not aware of how I can build up so much tension again after just giving myself a release. This tension is different. It doesn't consume my body, it consumes my mind and no matter how badly I want to escape from it, it doesn't let me find peace.

Nick is still inside my head bothering me with his damned ring box. I don't like the feeling I have when I think of it. Something doesn't add up, considering his reaction. But maybe it’s just what I want to believe to ease my decision to answer him with a no whenever he pops the question. Strange when this was all I wanted just a few months ago.

I still want the same thing, I'm just not sure that I want it with Nick any longer.

I try to force myself to sleep like that would help me escape my own mind, but I already know that a human’s mind is the most dangerous prison someone could have. I toss and turn so many times that I'm starting to believe that I will soon burn through the sheets. At this rate, I'll die from exhaustion.

The worst part is that I can’t come up with a decent enough plan to make the break-in work without a rested mind.

I squeeze my eyes tighter, fighting the impossible one last time.

Useless. My eyes snap back open, alerted by an unusual sound. I think I hear footsteps somewhere in the living room, but what I didn't hear was the key turning. I'm positive I locked the door after Nick left. It's unlikely for him to come in without me hearing him.

Maybe I was too caught up in my own thoughts to notice him.

I decide to investigate, even though that guarantees I won't be getting any sleep for the next hour. I sense an incoming fight coming our way and that would definitely not calm my nerves.

I'm not sure why, but I step cautiously into the lobby. The same cologne I sensed when I arrived at the hotel is now so intense that it plays with all of my senses. It feels like someone's just walked past here.

Now I have no doubt I’m losing my mind, especially since I discovered the living room is empty. Nick hasn't returned. In reality, I would be surprised if he would so soon after he had left. He’s usually gone for hours. If that used to bother me once, now it gives me relief.

What doesn't ease my mind is the fact that I am sure I heard something.

That freaking scent is so strong it makes the hair on my neck curl. I must be hallucinating, but I feel someone is here, watching, waiting for something that I can't yet determine.

I can’t stop myself from following that trail of cologne. It's like it's coming from within the walls, but as I walk back to my bedroom, I see a perfume diffuser on the ceiling.

I've been paranoid because of a room spray. That's a whole new level of madness I’m racing toward.

I can't help myself and rise on my toes as much as I can to see if that's where the scent is coming from. I just manage to stabilize myself when pooooffff , the perfume diffuser puffs a small dose of spray into the room. What should have been just an innocent room freshener turns into a seven-headed dragon that causes me to fall directly on my ass.

I burst into an insane laugh discovering the reason for my new unlocked fear.

Waving goodbye to sanity.

Since I'm boarding the loony train, my nostrils flinch in the air, trying to sniff and identify the scent. I'm not even sure if this thing puffs out the same perfume. I might have just lost my sense of smell along with my mind.

One thing is clear. I can't sleep. I can't breathe, and I can't be in this suite for a moment longer.

I need to get myself a drink.

I said I wasn't going to contact my sister, but right now her suggestion of a few drinks sounds like the best idea someone had in a long time. I need to try to put out fire with fire.

Just a few glasses I tell myself, though I know I'm lying. I will need a lot more than just a few to numb all the shit that has been going through my mind lately.

Texting Christina, I pray she won't reply so my soul will be somehow saved.

God doesn't seem to be watching over me tonight. Maybe he just turned his gaze away due to my earlier representation. I don't blame Him, but I do blame myself for whatever is to come. And by the looks of it, I'm gonna get my ass drunk because my phone lights up with a text from my sister.

She's free and ready to party. Okay, maybe not party, but definitely ready for a girls’ night out.

I ask her to meet me at the hotel bar. I don't want her to be the one who pays the bill this time. I feel inferior enough because she landed the rich plastic surgeon, while I'm beginning to think I wasted beautiful years of my life clinging to a dream that was never going to be reality.

The expense card is still with me. I'm gonna charge this getaway to Seth Malvagio. And it won't be the first time I take advantage of him tonight. I just pray that the tables won't ever turn.

Christina said she would be ready in half an hour. I should also be ready by then, especially since I’ve already showered. The time frame is still tight. I've lost my dexterity when it comes to being my own stylist, and the broken hair straightener which I have to wire directly into the outlet doesn't work in my favor. At least if something goes wrong, I’ll end up with an instant hairdo.

Fuck, I need money and a life—any kind of life, just different from this one.

I met my sister at the hotel bar, as I’d asked her. I can't deny that all the way there, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Nick. No chance of that happening, the same way I had no chance of letting him go for the night. My thoughts keep racing to the moment when he saw me holding the ring box and what would have happened if I hadn't discovered it.

I’m not in the mood for dinner. I don't even think I could open my mouth for food, while drinks, on the other hand, could flow like the Nile down my throat.

For some reason, Christina seems to agree. Her marriage wasn't the fairytale I thought it was. She had everything she wanted—money, love—but not her husband's time. I guess it's the price you need to pay for fame.

What I find hilarious is that I don't even have one of those.

Cheers to that.

I needed many cheers to reach a state where the pain is replaced by the fumes of alcohol. For the first time in months, I feel fucking amazing. I'm not constrained by the mission I need to fulfill or by my boyfriend, who I never know where he is.

It doesn’t even matter, I’m with my sister. Christina hasn't felt like home for a long time, but she still feels like a part of me, even though in real life, we've grown so much apart.

I manage to get her as intoxicated as I am. That definitely adds a sin to my already crowded list of bad deeds.I know she doesn't usually drink that much. She will probably be banned for life from seeing me as soon asGreg gets a sniff of her intoxicated ass.

Still, I can't stop myself, and neither can she. And since I’ll eventually end up in hell, I might as well keep the drinks rolling so I don't feel the ride there.

Nick came up again as the main subject of our discussion. And no matter how badly I want to keep things from Christina, she already sees straight through him.

I don't need another warning regarding how much of a screwup he really is. I already know that. It’s the reason why the glasses of alcohol flow down my throat.

I imagined a reunion with my sister would be so much different than this, maybe even more hostile. At least I don't feel so alone anymore. I know she won't be here for me after tonight, not as long as I continue with my current lifestyle—my life of crime as she puts it. But I do know she will be with me in spirit. It feels nice knowing there's someone who loves you out there. I just wish I had someone who loves me by my side. I know Nick isn't that person, at least not in the loving me kinda way that I want and need.

I guess this is one of the reasons why my sister kept pleading with me throughout the whole evening to leave him. And that’s without me revealing a single one of my intentions. I only told her about the ring. She instantly flipped out, warning me about the mistake I was making. It's just that fighting the damn memories I have with him feels so hard, especially now that I'm so worn out from all the cocktails I ordered from the bar.

Greg calls, bringing our night to an end. Not that I could drink any more. Saves me the trouble of excusing myself, but not the trouble of returning to my room. I can barely stand, but at least now I’m sleepy.

I'm surprised I even know where the suite is. In fact, I feel like I deserve some kind of an award for managing to get back into the living room.

Life seems so much harder from the second I open the door. Of course, Nick isn't here. I don't even think I want him to be here, but just as a knife twisting in an open wound, his absence adds more weight to the decision of whether or not to leave him.

I'm so thirsty that I could drink the whole bar. I need to settle for water though, so I can still reach the bedroom. The glass I filled earlier is still there, but as I sip it down, I only feel more drunk.

Never mix water and alcohol.

That's it,final decision—I'm quitting water.

I have no idea how I got so tipsy... okay, I have an idea since I’ve been overcharging the expense card. I just didn't expect to get this drunk.

I need some air.

I don't even know how I ended up on the balcony. Jesus, the view is superb. Twinkling lights dance to the commotion, and a light breeze soothes my senses. I wish I could share this with someone.

Damn you, Nick!

I suddenly feel a tear building in the corner of my eye. I really don't want to cry because of him, but the alcohol does me no favors. No matter how tightly I try to squeeze my eyes shut, tears begin to spill, clouding the beautiful lights and replacing them with the anguish of disappointment.

I'm not even sure if I'm crying because of Nick or just because of how foolish I’ve been. By now, I could have been working at the vault company if it wasn't for him. A seven-figure check in my pocket and not a single fucking care in the world.

That thought only makes me cry harder until the lights become just small colored dots, blending into a sea of blackness.