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19.76% Lucifer's Bride [Complete] / Chapter 17: 17

Capítulo 17: 17

I dream that night. It's a strange dream, even by my standards. I'm walking down a cavernous hallway lit only by candlelight. The walls are made from huge slabs of dark marble and lined with endless doors on either side. There's no one else in the hallway, just me. An icy wind whips around the corridor, chilling my skin as I walk. I rub my arms to warm myself, but it doesn't do much.

I continue walking, scanning for any sign of life or company. The hall remains empty, and my gut twists with dread. I like having my own space, but I hate being completely alone like this. I peer down the hallway as I walk, hoping to see someone, anyone, while I'm down here. I'd even be happy if I saw my husband. At least then I'd know I'm not completely alone.

I'm too cold to continue, so I dart into one of the many open doors that line the hallway, hoping to find some relief from the chill outside. I slip between the small space of the door -- an enormous piece of wood carved with effigies of humans and demons -- and close it behind me. Finally, a little relief from that damned wind.

I turn around and hold my breath. The room I've picked I filled with mirrors. They line each of the four walls, stretching from the marble floor to the carved ceiling. Small flickering candles offer some light, but not enough to see exactly where I am.

Regaining my balance, I decide to explore. What harm could a room full of mirrors pose besides being nothing more than an illusion and actually lined with spikes? Nothing that I'd be surprised by. This is Hell after all. There's danger everywhere here.

I walk along the cool floor, taking cautious steps as I go. The floor has been polished to a mirror's surface as well, and I can't see any cracks or impurities in its surface that would let me know its real marble. Suddenly, my illusion idea seems much more possible. Still, I keep moving. My curiosity has me itching for answers, and I'm not about to turn around and quit searching just because I'm scared.

I stop dead in my tracks. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of my reflection in the enormous mirrors. I turn towards them, facing myself head on, peering through the dim candlelight to see what damage has been down.

I'm quite a sight here. First off, I'm completely naked except for a single layer of translucent silk draped around my hips. My nipples, once a soft pink, are now bright red and swollen. And for good reason: they've been pierced. Small black crystals dangle from thin, inch-long chains attached to tiny gold hoops. My navel is pierced as well, another small stone dangling from a matching gold circle there.

I stare at my reflection, dumfounded. I've never been one to desire body piercings or tattoos; I find them unnecessary and too trendy to be taken seriously. Yet here I stand with both my nipples and my belly violated. I blush at my own reflection, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin than I have in years.

How in the hell?

I continue to stare at my reflection, trying too imagine what circumstance I must have been in to agree to this.

Something warm brushes my skin, dragging me out of my musings. I watch in the mirror as two warm hands glide across my hips, resting on the slender bones and holding me tight. A muscled chest presses against my shoulder blades, making me shiver at the contact. Finally, my husbands head peeks around mine. Bright golden eyes shine in the delicate candlelight, boring into mine through the mirror.

The planes of his face seem more sever than usual, the shadows of the light sharpening the angles of his features. He smiles at me and nuzzles his cheek against my neck.

"You look beautiful," he whispers.

"Thank you." My voice is soft out of embarrassment. I know how much he's lusting after me, and this is the last thing I want him to see.

He continues to smile as one of his warm hands slips down over my hip. His flingers slip between my thighs, finding my clitoris with impossible speed. He circles it lightly with one finger, making me shiver again.

"Why not here?" he asks.

I speak without thinking. "Because I'm scared." It's not what I really wanted to say, but it is the truth.

He places gentle kisses along my neck. "Of what?"

I chew my lip. "The pain. The last ones weren't very enjoyable."

What am I saying? I agreed to this?

He purses his lips for a moment. His hands leave my hip and thighs, skimming over my body and cupping my breasts in his hands. I stifle a moan; they're so warm and soft I almost feel dizzy. He rolls my gilded nipples between his fingers, and I wince from the tiny sparks of pain that echo through my body.

"Tender?" her asks.

I nod, the pain lessening as he continues his gentle teasing.

He kisses my neck again. "It wouldn't be so bad."

"It would still hurt," I counter.

"Only for an instant."

"Down there? I don't think I could take it." I shake my head.

He sighs, disappointed. I'm sure he finds this image of me more than just appealing. Knowing him, though, I'm sure he would have been more pleased to have me go the whole nine yards and get everything pierced. But my dream self is apprehensive and not willing to play his game.

"I think you could," he whispers. He grips the slender chains of my piercings and tugs slightly, making me wince again.

I whimper. That hurts. I'm not a masochist by any standards - I hate pain.

"I think you could." He tugs the chains again. "A little training and stamina in you and you could take all the piercings I could give."

My lip quivers as he tugs harder. I desperately want to get away from him, but I'm frozen in my place. He's holding me hostage without having to touch me. I think it's his eyes. They're so beautifully hypnotic it almost hurts to look at them.

He pulls the chains again and I cry out from the pain.

"Stop," I beg. "Please. That hurts."

His smile returns. "Oh, the things I could do with you. You're so sensitive, Amelia. That gives me more to work with."

I whimper again. He keeps the chains taut, holding them out so my nipples are tormented endlessly. I understand how he got his reputation as a ruthless tyrant of damned souls. This is torture in itself.

"Stop!" I beg again.

His smile turns wicked. "I think not. I want to test just how much you can take. If you're going to be my queen, you need to have a bit more endurance than this."

He loops the chains around his fingers, his wicked smile growing more sinister as my eyes widen. I know what he's going to do, and I'm helpless to fight him off.

"I'll break you in, my sweet queen," he purrs. "Don't you worry about that."

I take one final breath before he jerks hard on the chains. Pain sears through me, burning my breasts and rendering my thoughts useless. I scream in agony, tears rolling down my cheeks as I wonder how much more of this I could take.


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