Chapter 30
“And in the master’s chambers, they gathered for the feast. They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can’t kill the beast.”
—THE EAGLES, HOTEL CALIFORNIA
S hem slinked off after helping Ramel force me through multiple orgasms. He told us he would meet us in the dining room. Ramel scooped me up and carried me into the adjoining bathroom.
Post-sex Ramel was a completely different person. He was so gentle with me that I kept pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
The bathroom was massive and was what I imagined a haunted house’s master bath would look like if the Kardashians renovated it. The gleaming black marble floors reflected the soft glow of the green flames that burned in modern wall sconces. The frameless shower was massive and adorned with misting and rainfall fixtures. There was a large, oval tub carved from obsidian set in the center of the room, and floating his and hers sinks along the far wall.
“Wow,” I gasped, and Ramel smirked at me, clearly pleased with my reaction.
“This is all yours now,” he said, setting me down in the frameless shower and gesturing for me to turn around. I frowned but did as I was told. He was being so nice I didn’t want him to revert back to asshole Ramel. I squeaked as he gripped the plug and gently tugged it out of my ass, tossing it with a heavy clank into one of the sinks. He pressed up behind me and gently kissed my shoulder, directly over one of the bruises that was forming from where he had aggressively bit me.
“I’ll get a healer to take care of these after breakfast,” he murmured before gesturing toward one of the benches built into the wall of the open-concept shower. “Have a seat; let’s get you cleaned up.”
He turned on the shower, and I couldn’t help but feel amazed at how it suddenly seemed like it was raining inside the entire room. He fished out a black loofah from under the sink and squeezed soap into it before getting on his knees before me.
“Do you have any questions?” he asked me as he lathered the soap into the loofah. Was he being serious? Of course I had fucking questions. “Now is the time to ask if you do,” he said softly. He ran the soapy sponge up my arm, and I shuddered.
“Why?” I finally asked.
“Why what?” he asked, his expression genuine. “Why did I stalk you and kill everyone you’ve ever known and loved? Or why did I pretend to be Reaver?”
“Both,” I whispered, and he pursed his lips.
“After breakfast, Hazai and I will be taking you to the library. I will be better equipped to answer your first question there,” he murmured, watching his own hand as he slowly cleaned my body. He began at my shoulders and slowly made his way downward.
“I pretended to be Reaver because I needed a way to communicate with you that didn’t give me away,” he explained, still not looking me in the eyes.
“You asked me how I killed people. You made it seem like I could confide in you and tell you my secrets, but you knew the whole time… why?” I whispered. His gorgeous hazel eyes shot up to meet mine, and his mouth twitched.
“I wanted to see if you would tell me. I wanted to hear what it felt like when I touched you from your own lips. I was hoping you would tell Reaver that I had stalked you your whole life. There’s just something about hearing how terrified I made you coming from your own mouth that would have been such a turn-on.”
I felt my stomach sink at the brutality of his honesty. Ramel was a monster; there was no denying that.
He lazily ran the soapy sponge over my abdomen. “Even more than that, I was hoping you would tell Reaver I had edged you all night and ask him to finish the job.” He grinned at me, the evil that I knew lurked just beneath the surface swimming across his gaze. “I would have fucked you right then if you had told me.”
“Ramel,” I whispered as he gently ran the loofa down my left leg. There was nothing sexual about his touches now. He was just… washing me. He frowned when he passed over the tops of my legs. He ran a finger over one of my scars, looking upset that they were there.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” he asked softly, and I felt my throat tighten. Was he seriously asking me that question ?
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, my voice coming out more strained than I would have liked. He frowned and leaned forward, lifting one of my arms so he could wash under there as well. The soap he was using smelled like him. I was suddenly bathing in the scent of frankincense and sandalwood and wondered what the fuck was wrong with me that I thought it was starting to smell less like a funeral and more like home.
He ran his hand gently down my arm and brushed his thumb gently over the scar on my wrist. “I don’t understand why you did this. For how much you hated me, I don’t get why you would try to summon me.”
“ Hate you,” I corrected.
He glanced up at me, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “My mistake, deathtrap. You’re right. For how much you hate me, I don’t understand why you would try to summon me.”
He brushed his finger over the old wound again, looking pensive.
“I wanted it to stop,” I whispered. “I wanted to rest.”
He glanced up at me, and something that looked suspiciously like remorse crossed his face. “Unfortunately, deathtrap, suicide is a cardinal sin. There would have been no rest for you, even if you weren’t who you are. Yahweh doesn’t reincarnate souls that take their own lives. He considers them a failure and unusable. They come here to stay with me.”
For some reason, this made me incredibly sad. It didn’t seem fair that souls who were too tired for life weren’t even given the chance to rest in death.
He ran his fingers over the scars on my legs again, leaning forward to kiss them softly. “These I understand even less. Watching you cut yourself always felt like watching someone carve up a masterpiece.” He breathed against me, and I felt my eyes well with tears. If he felt that way, why did he seem to enjoy hurting me so much?
He wrapped his hands around my hips, tugging me closer as he looked up at me. His hair was slicked back and wet, and his hazel eyes were swimming with an emotion I didn’t understand.
“Why do you do it? Tell me.” He searched my eyes, and I was struck with the fact that he was genuinely trying to understand me better. For a moment, I wondered if there was some part of him that wasn’t evil and rotten. Then I remembered just who it was that was kneeling before me.
“I do it because of you,” I whispered. I met his eyes and let him see just how much he had hurt me. “My entire life has been so miserable. You’ve killed everyone I’ve ever known. I haven’t been allowed to touch anyone for years. Before you decided you wanted to fuck me, the only living thing I had touched until I accidentally hugged Sam was Chaos, and it turns out even he wasn’t my friend. I’ve never been loved. I’ve been so fucking lonely because of you . ”
He looked for a moment as if I had just broken his heart. Though the look was gone as quickly as it came, and the corner of his mouth kicked up instead.
“Well, I hope I don’t need to remind you that cutting yourself is against the rules.” He tugged the collar that was still locked around my throat. “You wouldn’t want to give me an excuse to clip a leash to this pretty throat.” He stood up and reached behind me into one of the cubbies on the wall, grabbing what looked like a bottle of shampoo. He gestured for me to stand and took my place before tugging me back down to sit between his legs. “Let’s wash this gorgeous hair, then get you something to eat. You must be starving.”
Ramel dressed me in a white wrap dress but didn’t give me any underwear. I plucked at the soft fabric and frowned.
“White seems off-brand,” I murmured, and he slid his hand into mine, tugging me toward the door. He was more or less dressed the same as he was when we were working at Voodoo. Black pants and a crisp black collared shirt. I scowled at how hot he was.
“The white will make it easier to spot you when you inevitably try to run away,” he purred, and I sighed. Of course, it had been a calculated decision.
“Cheer up, Lilith, take in the sights. It’s not every day a mortal gets to dine in the House of the Fallen.”
I supposed he was right about that. The manor was spectacular. Everything was black, but the walls were lined with massive gothic arches and windows, providing an incredible view of the endless night that was Hell. The sky was so lit up with stars that the purples and greens of the nebula that birthed the celestial bodies seemed to burn and writhe as we walked the halls. Even I could admit it was beautiful.
The deeper Ramel led me into the manor, the more alive everything became. We started to pass people as we walked. They nodded at Ramel but eyed me curiously.
“Do all these people live here?” I asked.
“They’re not people; they’re demons. And some of them, yes. Many of them work here, and others are likely visiting from the city. We’re preparing for Samhain, so it’s a little busier than normal.
I frowned. “Samhain?”
“I believe you call it Halloween.” He smirked at me. “Which I happen to know is also your birthday.”
“It is.” I nodded, trying not to think about the fact that he knew that because it was the day he killed my mother .
He led me down a hallway that seemed to be a bridge between two spires in the manor. Both walls were filled with those beautiful gothic arches, and I felt like we were floating through the endless starry night as we walked. At the end of the midnight hallway was a massive set of double doors. An impressive rendition of Botticelli’s Divine Comedy was carved into the doors, and I stared in awe at how intricate each detail of the carving was.
Ramel’s lip quirked up. “Shem’s idea,” he said, gesturing to the carved doors. “He loves when mortals attempt to imagine Hell.”
I nodded, my eyes still wide. Ramel pushed the doors open, and I was immediately overwhelmed by the cheerful sounds of clinking plates, cutlery, and friendly chatter. I felt as if I had just walked into a continental breakfast at the world’s swankiest hotel.
In the center of the room was a massive vertical spit with a giant roast pig skewered down the middle. On a circular table around the spit were massive piles of food, including towering mountains of pancakes spilling into heaping trays of omelets. There were also huge crystal syrup dispensers filled with every liquid form of sweetness you could imagine.
The room was packed full of demons sitting around circular black tables. They ate and laughed and chatted with each other as if they weren’t eating breakfast in literal fucking Hell. Along the far wall stood a long table that overlooked the rest. There was a massive black throne-like chair set in the middle. Shem was seated to the right of the throne, chatting with a handsome demon who was clearly flirting with him. Ramel led me up to the table and took his place at the center, pulling me down to sit on his lap.
I stiffened.
“Can I have my own seat, please?” I asked, but he just laughed as if the request was ridiculous. Instead of getting me a seat, he slipped his hand into the slit of my dress and rested his hand on top of my bare pussy. I gasped as he spread me open and ran his fingers up and down either side of my clit.
“Absolutely not, deathtrap. You will sit right here where I can keep an eye on you.” He squeezed his fingers together, pinching my clit firmly, and I squeaked. “Behave. You wouldn’t want me to punish you in front of all these demons, would you?”
Well, I guess we were done being nice.
He snapped the fingers that weren’t holding my clit hostage at the demon who was flirting with Shem.
“Arteqoph, bring my bride something to eat.” He buried his face into the crook of my neck and kissed one of the tender bruises he had given me.
Arteqoph was just as devastatingly handsome as Ramel and Shem, though his coloring was completely different. He had dark skin that stood out in stark contrast against his ice-white hair and glacier-blue eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched up as his gaze landed on me.
“Bride? Isn’t this the little mortal you were sent to torment?” he asked curiously, and Ramel nodded. “She was, yes.”
Shem’s mouth quirked up. “She still feels that’s the case, I’m sure, but we’re working on her.” He grinned at me, and I scowled. “Lilith, this is Arteqoph, he’s my second.”
“Maybe on the battlefield, but I’m your first in bed.” He winked at Shem, who gave him a cool look.
“Hmm, maybe. When I’m in the mood for you.”
Arteqoph didn’t seem put off by Shem’s aloof response at all. “Don’t mind Shem. He can be a little finicky. Nice to see you, Lilith. I’m Art.” He held out a hand for me to shake like I was an actual person. I smiled and reached out to take his hand when Ramel pinched my clit so hard I yelped and jerked my hand back.
‘You know the rules, deathtrap. No touching.’ His voice rolled through my mind.
I ground my teeth together and shifted in his lap in an attempt to dislodge his fingers, but he clamped down on me again, forcing me to still.
“Move again, and you’ll be coming in front of all these demons, Lilith,” he hissed into my ear, and I froze. My face flushed, and I looked at Art’s extended hand before bowing my head in embarrassment.
“Hi, Art. Nice to meet you,” I murmured. He gave me a confused look and glanced at Shem, who shrugged.
“She’s not allowed to touch you,” he explained, and Art held up his hands in surrender, smiling good-naturedly.
“Fair enough. What would you like to eat, Lilith? The buffet is on point today.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Ramel answered for me, making my blood boil.
“She’ll have a little of everything.” He ran his nose up the side of my neck, inhaling deeply as if he were getting high off my scent. “She needs to build her strength up for later.”
“Ooh, sounds spicy.” Art winked at us before heading out to the buffet to get my food. I watched him go and frowned. He seemed nice. Much nicer than Shem and Ramel. Maybe if I could get him alone, I could convince him to help me escape…
“You came seriously close to getting punished, little deathtrap. You need to be more careful,” Ramel purred in my ear.
“How come I can’t shake his hand, but you let Shem torture me with a vibrator for hours?” I hissed angrily, and Ramel chuckled. Shem shot me a nefarious grin.
“Because I’m special, Lilith.”
I scowled at him, but he just smirked and took a crisp bite of an apple.
Shem leaned back in his chair, turning to face us. “Damn, Lil. I’m glad Ramel decided to make you his bride. Things have already been so much more fun since you got here, and it’s only been a day.”
My scowl deepened. I guess I was the only one who wasn’t happy with this new development.
Art returned with my food and placed it down in front of me. He had also brought me a coffee, which I accepted gratefully.
I tried to focus on eating, but it was difficult with Ramel’s hand basically in my pussy, and his apparent hyper-fixation with the side of my neck. With each bite I took, he left a featherlight kiss on the side of my throat and gently moved his fingers up and down either side of my clit.
Every time I shifted or tried to move away, he would growl in warning until, finally, I dropped my fork and snapped at him.
“Would you stop? I’m trying to fucking eat!”
His eyes darkened, and I immediately regretted my outburst.
“Oooh, you’re in trouble now.” Shem laughed, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
With the hand that wasn’t between my legs, Ramel stroked the side of my jaw gently, but the look in his eyes was dangerous, and I knew I was going to regret snapping at him.
“What did I say was going to happen if you moved again, Lilith?”
“Ramel, please. Don’t.” I said, glancing around the packed room. Several demons were shamelessly staring at us already. They were clearly curious as to why Ramel had a mortal perched on his lap. They couldn’t see where his hand was, thanks to the tablecloth, but they could certainly see the way he was kissing my neck.
“I warned you, but you don’t fucking listen. All you had to do was sit here, eat your breakfast, and let me play with you. Now you’re going to come in front of everybody. Was it worth it?” he purred in my ear, and I felt a shot of adrenaline right to my cunt.
“Ramel!” I hissed in protest, and he growled against my neck.
“I would try not to draw any attention to yourself if I were you. Maybe if you’re quiet, no one will notice.” His warm breath tickled the skin on my neck. I looked at Shem, but he just grinned. I should have known better. Of course he was on Ramel’s side.
“Ramel, please, ” I begged, but he removed his fingers from beneath my dress and held them up to my mouth.
“Open,” he ordered. I frantically scanned the room. The demons who had already been watching started nudging their friends and pointing.
Fuck !
“Lilith, the longer you draw this out, the worse I’m going to make it for you. You can quietly come on my hand under the table, or I can spread you out like a fucking feast for everyone to see. What’s it going to be?”
“I hope she picks option B,” Shem said, frowning down at his nails as if deciding whether or not it was time to get a manicure.
I glanced back and forth at the two of them, letting them see how fucking furious I was. Ramel just chuckled and pressed his fingers against my lips again.
“Be angry all you want, Lilith; it doesn’t change your options.”
I scowled at him and finally caved.
“I hate you,” I hissed before opening my mouth. He pressed his fingers into the back of my throat and stroked them leisurely up and down my tongue.
“I know you do, deathtrap. Make sure to get my fingers nice and wet.”