Chapter 15
ASMODEUS
Iwatch Simone sleeping, absentmindedly shuffling our deck of cards. They’re starting to get a bit frayed around the edges with use—it’s been well over a year since Simone has been here, and yet I still haven’t truly made her mine.
After she let me bind and pleasure her, I had hoped our relationship would progress. But she retreated into her shell. One step forward, two steps back.
I wish I could take her into the human world. She could see the boy she occasionally talks about, Henry. It wouldn’t be an egregious breach of the Council agreement—who would believe a little boy that his nanny now lives in Hell? But alas, I’m as chained to this realm as she is to this cave.
The table in front of me is littered with beautiful sketches of models wearing what must be trendy garments.
Something could be done here, perhaps. Maybe with the proper equipment, she could create her own clothes, ones that she would be happier with than the gowns I’ve chosen. But she would need space for it…
I’ve been considering moving her to my Lethe manor, but it’s always full of my children, and the debauchery would scandalize her.
My ziggurat, the official seat of my power, is, as always, out of the question.
I can’t imagine my little fairy there for even a second.
What if I had a new place made just for us?
Perhaps I should have done that months ago.
Perhaps then, she wouldn’t still be resistant to my affections.
Every day that passes only increases my obsession with her.
I never thought I could feel this way about another being.
She is always at the forefront of my mind, no matter where I go and what I do.
And the most shocking part is that I don’t just want to fuck her.
I want to watch the play of emotions on her expressive face.
I want to see those gray eyes soften toward me.
I yearn to witness her growing that steel backbone I know is inside her.
And, yes, I also want to fuck her an indefinite number of times, in all possible positions.
She stirs with a soft moan that gets me harder than I already was from imagining her naked and willing.
“Rise and shine, little fairy,” I say softly, trying not to startle her too much. Still, she flinches.
Her gaze is wary as she blinks at me, staring at me for a few seconds before clearing her throat and answering in a voice raspy from sleep.
“What are you doing here? How long have you been watching me sleep? Pervers.”
I chuckle at her assessment. She has no idea just how perverted I really am. But I’d love to show her.
“Not very long, beautiful. Just long enough to hear that cute snore.”
As expected, she bristles, shooting up into a sitting position.
“I do not snore!”
“Sure,” I tease. I wave at her with the deck of cards. “Come on now. Let’s play.”
Reluctantly, she gets out of bed and shuffles over. She must just have been napping, because she’s not wearing her usual sleeping attire, dressed instead in one of the simpler gowns I provided.
“War again?” she mumbles as she sits down in front of me. “I don’t know why we keep playing games that rely entirely on luck.”
I grin at her. “Because it upsets you when you lose.”
Simone rolls her eyes at me. “That explains a lot of things.”
I can’t help laughing as I split the deck in two and slide half toward her. We gather our halves and square them against the table, her eyes following the movements of my hands. I catch her staring at them sometimes. Is she thinking about how I touched her that one time she allowed me to?
“Ready?” I ask her.
“No,” she quips.
“Excellent. Flip.”
We both turn our top cards—her six of hearts stares mournfully at my king of spades.
I click my tongue. “A tragic beginning.”
Simone snorts. “Yeah. You sound devastated for me.”
After I sweep the cards into my pile, we go again. This time, her queen beats my two.
“How tragic,” she parrots.
I press a hand against my heart. “Mocking me? You’ve changed, Simone.”
“I’m adapting to my environment,” she replies with a sigh.
We continue, cards snapping onto the table in a steady rhythm.
“How would you like to move out of this cave?” I ask neutrally.
Simone’s eyes shoot up. “You’re letting me go?”
A muscle ticks in my jaw as I clench my teeth. I shouldn’t care that she’s still dreaming of freedom—it’s only natural. So why do I?
“I’m having a place built for us by the Lethe.
” I’m not yet, but I will be as soon as I leave here.
“It will have room for state-of-the-art sewing and designing equipment. And a garden. Do you want a garden? Do you want pets? I’m not sure if any animals from the human world could survive here, but if any could, it would be chicken, right? You love Eggs Benedict.”
I don’t think I ever rambled before. She’s driven me to rambling.
Simone just looks at me, then down at her cards. On her signal, we flip another pair. Two eights.
“Ah,” I murmur. “War.”
Neither of us says anything for a moment. I can’t bring myself to jovially suggest a tiebreaker.
“You’re really never letting me go, are you?” she finally questions softly. It’s not even an accusation. She seems resigned and a bit broken.
I scratch my chest over my shirt, wondering at the sudden stabbing itch. Am I failing? Do I need to feed?
“Next round decides the winner,” Simone says, surprising me with the change of subject. Gratefully, I nod, and we hold each other’s gazes as we flip our cards, then look down.
She flipped a queen of hearts. I flipped a six of diamonds. How fitting.
“Temporary setback,” I declare as she pulls the heap to herself.
“I like eggs, but chickens freak me out,” she says like we didn’t pause to play. “I think it’s the beaks.”
“Hmm,” I consider. “There’s a baby imp named Puck who loiters around my brother’s home—”
“No!” she rushes to interrupt me. “Absolutely no imps, baby or otherwise.”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “Fine. We’ll shelve the pet idea for now and get working on the sewing room instead.”
“Fine.”
“Fine. Shall we play another round?” I suggest, my mood much improved from minutes ago.
“Only if you want to lose again,” she replies, already shuffling the cards.
This is a new development, and I have much to do. Half of my attention is already creating a list of tasks for Forneus, wanting to ensure it all goes perfectly.
I don’t recall anything ever scaring me… But holding on to hope that I’m making progress with her? It’s daunting.