Chapter 13
A STRONG ARM WRAPPED around her shoulder, delicate fingers tracing her jawline, easing her into wakefulness. Isabelle fluttered her eyes open to a broad, blue chest, and tilted her head up to see Rul smiling down at her.
“You’re still here,” she murmured, half asleep after the exertion from the day before.
“Of course, I am. It feels so nice to hold you,” he said, punctuating his statement with a squeeze. “Hold you so tight I’ll never let you go.”
The words should have frightened her, but instead, filled her with twisted hope. No one in her life had fought to keep her, had needed her so badly that her presence drowned them in desire. There was an appeal to feeling so irresistible she made someone want to take her right then and there.
And more so, she enjoyed waking up with him, the sensation of his arms around her. Like she was safe from all the cruelties of the world. Like nothing bad could happen here.
“Did you enjoy yesterday?” he asked, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tease my sweet girl too much, did I?”
Teasing was an understatement. It had been near torture the way they’d used her mouth, then each other, Bellinor leaving without giving her any relief.
“Yes, I liked it,” she answered, the smile lighting up his face making her heart swell. “And it wasn’t too much.”
“I know you can take it, because you’re the perfect plaything. You’re as insatiable as I am.”
Rul nuzzled the top of her head, and she ran her hand across the muscles of his chest, enjoying the way they tensed under her ministrations. A knot welled in her throat, his praise doing little to quiet the thoughts in the back of her mind.
“I’m perfect until you decide to get rid of me.”
He pulled back so he could look at her face, raising a brow in question.
“Get rid of you?”
“Well?” she said, gesturing to the room like the answer was apparent. “There are no other humans here, are there? You will tire of me eventually, just like the others.”
Here she was, acting like she wanted to stay in this cursed place.
“It doesn’t have to be that way…”
“Oh? Can I go home?”
Rul growled.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean? Am I supposed to be your plaything until what? Until I die?”
He considered her words with a sheepish look, like she’d caught him in a lie.
“You could be more than that,” he finally said, his voice so low she almost couldn’t hear, even in the quiet of the room.
“What do you mean?”
Rul looked away, staring at the ceiling and pulling her into the crook of his neck.
“I… don’t know exactly. Can’t we just be content with enjoying each other’s company?”
“You’re a demon,” she said with a scoff, like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.
He smiled, a dazzling grin that coiled tension in her core.
“And?”
“You’re evil.”
That’s all this was, an incubus who knew exactly what she craved, twisting her in his clutches until she bent to his will.
“Is that what your religion tells you?”
“You kidnap people and use them for your pleasure. I don’t need the Goddess to tell me anything.”
Rul shook his head, like a parent reprimanding their child.
“As I said before, no one is kidnapped. They always have a choice.”
“So, I choose to go home.”
He circled his hand around her throat like a necklace, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Is that really what you want? To return to asceticism, all for a goddess you know nothing about?”
Isabelle tried to push out of his grasp, but he held her tight, not letting her escape.
“And what do you know of the moon mother?”
“More than you’d think.”
Rul released her, and she scrambled away from him, her heart racing. She got out of bed, hurrying to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe. This place was full of secrets, ones that no one seemed willing to share with her, vague accusations about the moon mother that sent a tremor through her.
Moreover, she felt Celeste slipping away with each moment spent with Rul and Bellinor, her wicked, hedonistic thoughts making her forget herself.
She was a servant of the Goddess. A Goddess who loved her, even if she didn’t physically feel that love.
It was her job to have faith, even when it was difficult.
Even when she wanted to stray from the path.
Even when Rul’s domination and praise made her feel more cherished than she ever had before.
She looked in the mirror, her hair untamed and disheveled, her body marred with scars. She wished she had her cilice, though even that was a reminder of her depravity, the way her cunt wept from the sharp sting of the tines.
There was a knock at the door, and she took a few calming breaths, splashing water onto her face.
“Come out, sweet Isabelle, I don’t want to fight.”
A warmth settled in her chest from Rul’s soft voice, and she pinched the skin of her thigh hard, trying to remember her place.
When she opened the door, an unbidden smile pulled at her lips, the view of him naked with his arms outstretched making her feel lighter than air.
He pulled her into an embrace as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, the press of warm flesh against warm flesh forcing her muscles to relax, and she slipped her arms around his waist.
“Don’t worry so much. I want to own all those bad thoughts in your pretty little head, crush them until the only thing left is bliss.”
His voice was so seductive, the sentiment equally so, especially when she knew he was capable of doing just that.
When he pulled away from the hug, he cupped her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
“Bellinor could not have found a more perfect companion. You deserve every second of decadent pleasure we can provide for you, just as you will provide it for us.”
First a plaything, now a companion? Her head was spinning, all the contradictory emotions floating to the surface and making her chest tighten.
“I don’t deserve that,” she said quietly, and Rul curled his mouth into a frown.
“Because of things out of your control? Because your goddess says so?”
Isabelle didn’t respond, tears welling in her eyes and a lump catching in her throat.
It was Celeste, but it was more than that.
It was the sick way she derived pleasure from pain, that she even craved sex in the first place.
It was the way she’d given up her morals so quickly in the pursuit of pleasure.
And worst of all, it was the fact that she was the reason both of her parents were gone, a curse from the very moment of her birth.
“I want you to say something nice about yourself,” Rul continued, his command surprising her.
“What?”
Her hands immediately began to shake at the mere thought, the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
“You heard me. Just one little thing.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, you have to. I won’t give you clothes,” he said, pausing to spiral his tail around her leg, petting her inner thigh with the heated tip. “Or touch you the way you want until you do.”
He raised a brow expectantly, and she considered what to say, finding nothing worthy of note.
“I really can’t–”
“You can,” he said firmly, interrupting whatever rambling excuse she would have tried to come up with. “And you will. For me. Because you’re a good girl, and good girls do what their owners ask.”
She cleared her throat, her face flushing with the worst kind of embarrassment she could imagine.
“I… devote my free time to serving others at the temple of Celeste.”
Rul sighed deeply, but nodded, petting her cheek with a smile.
“You are a very giving person, and you did a good job by sharing that with me. Now, there are clothes for you on the bed. Get dressed, and I’ll get you something to eat. You have some painting to do.”