When the Dark Wins

Pain crept through nerves, coming to life in her gut, and forming into something obscene.

She wasn’t screaming in pain at all, it was something else—something foreign.

Pulling out until only the tip of his instrument was tucked in her sopping slit. Once she’d found her breath, staring up in horror, it began all over again.

Every time she was on the cusp of abandon, the dev

il took away what tore her apart. It may have been hours, it may have been days, before Pearl understood his brand of torment.

It was never going to end until she begged for the very thing she found so disgusting.

Sobbing she asked for mercy. He told her what to say—filthy words worse than any she’d picked up from men in the supper club fell from swollen lips, desperation lacing every last entreaty until the monster reared and redoubled his effort. The instant she discovered her first climax, he put his teeth to her neck, puncturing soft skin.

His cock kicked and he gushed.

He didn’t drink much, but exhaustion unlike she’d ever known made Pearl’s eyes heavy and her limbs useless. The dusty groan of a beast still filled the air, and it was not until he’d fully savored his pleasure, that the demon laid his lips to the very skin he’d bruised.

Small kisses peppered flesh tender from the scrape of his chest. Gently, he sucked her nipple, tongue teasing, teeth nipping. Warm breath fanned over her flesh as he sighed. “How I wish you would remember the glory of this moment as I will, but alas, that cannot be.”

While she lay struck and horrified, it rolled its hips to tease out a cruel reminder that she had enjoyed his blood, his cock, and even his brutality.

The room was once again cold, Pearl aware of the hideous thing that had fucked her raw and the threat his last words posed. “I don’t want to die.”

If pure evil might be sweet, the demon made an attempt, cooing at her gently. “You are too valuable to break. No, my Pearl, you will be mine forever.”

Chapter 4

Waking groggy, Pearl turned in her bed and snuggled deeper into soft blankets for warmth. A dull ache irritated her gums, and absently she tongued the spot, only to find two teeth were missing. Not just any teeth, but the sharp teeth she’d tried herself many times in life to wrench out.

The thing that made people afraid of her when she got scared or angry...

Her fangs, were gone.

Throwing back the covers, her hand flew to her mouth, and the shock over the nagging discomfort was replaced with absolute bewilderment.

She had no idea where she was.

There was light, golden and soft around the strangest room she’d ever seen. Not a single window contributed to the glow, only weighty gilded candelabras, ancient in design, strewn about. A small portion of the candles had burned to stubs, beside them fresh tapers with wicks white and untouched waited to be lit.

She was in a bed larger than any she’d ever seen. It gave off the subtle fragrance of teakwood and was foreign in its design and height. Above it draped a canopy, heavy curtains of embroidered gold, tied and gathered by anchors implanted in crumbling stone walls. Layered around her body were red velvet coverlets, the pillows sumptuous and plentiful at her back.

Between the candelabras and bed, there was scant other furniture in the small room. A writing desk took center stage, a thick tome open atop it. Beside the blotter were pens, a brush, a hand mirror. Even a pot of rouge.

There was more, other things littering hoary somber stone. Strange fabric against her skin...

Over her breasts was not the familiar uniform the Palace Delight had charged her three dollars for, but black chiffon. So sheer her nipples were on display, it hung gathered at her shoulders like some tart’s version of a nightgown.

Someone had dressed her in this. Someone had put her in this room.

Memories of a man holding her down in the snow, of pain, left her colder than ice. Had he brought her here after he’d finished? Hadn’t she killed him?

There had been so much blood…

A sour flavor.

What was going on?

There was no exit save a wooden door straight from a medieval movie set. Leaning against the portal, half concealing the frame, was a massive mirror. Like the candelabras, it was overly ornate, gaudy, and looked far too heavy for her to move.