Cathedral (Cradle of Darkness 1)

“I love you, Jade.” Delivered with perfect timing, Ethan, believing his proclamation was true, got what he wanted.

Eye’s rolling back, his cock expanding with imminent release, my lover enjoyed his second orgasm of the day. One my own climax drove past the pale as my internal muscles twisted tight, released, cramped, and fought to expel him.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Face the very image of ruin, Ethan threw back his head. The following animal whine, the way he swayed as if on the brink of a faint, it led me to be merciful.

Again I opened, the seed I’d choked off from bursting down its tube allowed to splash against my womb.

Falling to his hands, forehead to mine, he panted through the following waves of euphoria, while I cooed in his ear and ran a comforting caress down his spine.

“I fucking love you, Jade.”

Melting into the mattress, my mind wandered through ecstasy and pain. The sun had climbed higher; soon I’d be forced to move. But for now, the hidden cameras needed to see.

I had done my duty for the day.

Though it was permitted, there was no expectation that I come. My orders were only to be seeded.

Daily.

Which made it doubly lovely that I had gotten this reproductive requirement out of the way so early in my schedule. Perhaps I’d even partake again later instead of leaving Ethan to play with his latest toy, should the mood strike him to get his dick wet.

Warm weight of toned male flesh sliding off my body, Ethan stood with a sheepish smile. After taking my fingers to kiss with adoration, he sauntered off to the bathroom to shower.

Eventually his father would require him to show up at corporate HQ and make an official appearance. Dashing smile, suit immaculate, and model beautiful, he’d be expected to do nothing more than saunter in and fuck around at his computer for an hour or two. I imagine he spent it playing Candy Crush or dallying with the prettier girls in the building.

Entitlement at its polished finest. That was my darling Ethan Parker.

“I’m going to join him.” Despite the aneurism-inducing orgasm I’d given her, it seemed the girl at my side had collected herself. Standing on shapely tan legs, she meandered towards the ensuite’s steaming shower and the man whistling inside it.

Arms stretched overhead, I enjoyed the zippering pops of my spine. “You do that.”

Throwing me a smile over her shoulder, she blew me a kiss.

What was her name? Polly?

Vaguely remembering some Polly wants a cracker reference, I couldn’t recall if this blonde was Polly or if the last blonde had been Polly. Jenny?

Sam?

No, not Sam. Sam had been the curly-haired Venus from last winter.

They all ran together. They all giggled the same, pouted the same, and sported the large gravity defying breasts Ethan had an eye for.

God bless the surgeons who gave those pretty, carefree girls such perfect tits...

For God sure as fuck never blessed me.

And I’m not talking about breasts. My breasts were lovely.

I was stunning, in fact. Dark hair, porcelain skin, designed to draw adoration and attention.

Wealth? I had more money than any man could spend in a lifetime.

But I was not favored by God, and never would be.

After all, I was the child of Lucifer.

Chapter Two

Perfume.

The scent of good taste and deep pockets. Specially blended to my precise specifications.

Over the multitude of years, only one distinctive blend has graced my throat. The ritual of application, the slip of cut crystal chilling a scented trail down my skin—I found it comforting, even if I have never enjoyed the smell.

With the inevitable passage of time, everything changes. Trends, styles, freedoms… but this concoction, the way it alters the air around me, what it signifies, is as ageless as I am.

In the modern, more sophisticated era, several of the ingredients sloshing within the crystal vial gracing my vanity were extremely illegal. Some so rare, their acquisition cost a greater sum than the annual rent on our metropolis’ finest penthouses. Humans of a certain cut, whether it was ingrained in them from high birth, or because they conquered the upper echelon and elbowed their way in, need only take a sniff to know precisely what the cloud of scent signifies.

Affluence. Reverence.

Souls feel me linger in the air long after I’ve left a room.

Their brains tickled and twitched over a ghost of memory they can’t pin down.

As if they’d known me all their lives.

They have. They just can’t remember.

“Uncle Randal wants to know if your father will be joining us at his birthday soirée tonight.” Attention locked on his phone, Ethan scrolled through his messages, as if what he asked were nothing.

I stopped humming.

No breath entered my lungs; my heart shuddered to a stop. Still as a corpse, no longer musing over frivolous perfume, my eyes rose in the mirror, waiting for Ethan to glance away from his phone.