inferno | 18+

XXV

"Put your hands on my knees, she said,
and think of me as the book you've
been dying to read."
- Micheal Faudet

DEVINA

I use every ounce of force in my body, and push him back, his lips cutting their contact with mine. We're both breathing heavy, our lungs filling with lust. Desire spreads in my kitchen. I feel the wetness between my legs seep out of me, and onto the lingerie I wore. He told me to wear something pretty, and to taunt him, I did. I wore the prettiest set of blood-red underwear I had lying around, knowing I wouldn't grant him permission to see it.

The fact that I was wearing it, and he had no idea of knowing was enough. The Skims maxi dress I was wearing hid my underwear well enough. But now I'm not sure. I look into those beautiful dark eyes that are staring right back at me. I stare and I stare, searching for anything that might tell me not to do it.

And as if God is sending me a sign, I see Rudra's bloody face come into focus. He's leaning over Zakaria and I. The blood from his throat is dripping, but not hitting me. Not hitting the floor. Not staining me or my dress. My eyes jump from my dead husband, to the man who killed him, and all my brain is telling me is that Zakaria is real. This is real. He is on top of me right now. His lips were on mine not even mere seconds ago.

Rudra isn't real, which is all the confirmation I need.

I wrap my arms around Zakaria's neck, and bring him down. I crash my lips into his, tasting him. My fingers run wild. I tug on his hair. I pull his shirt up, and leave crescent shaped marks on his back. I moan and I cry, as he touches me. His touch ignores my skin. Sparks show in the room. I see stars. He pushes my dress up, and nudges my legs apart.

He doesn't have to do much work. My body helps him. When he realises how tight my dress is, he lets an annoyed grunt out, and rips it from my collarbone. He repeats the action, until my dress sits on me like an open cardigan. His eyes swipe over my body, that's dressed in the darkest shade of red there is. The lace sits on me like a set of extra skin.

"Your beauty is atrocious, angel. I don't just see it. I feel it. I feel it everywhere. When you're with me; when you aren't. It's revolting, how much I think of you; how long I've thought of this," he whispers down at me.

He leans down over my bare body. His fingers run themselves down my exposed skin, and I let them. I want this. God, I want it so bad, I could scream. His fingernails softly graze me, as he runs them up and down my abdomen, until he's between my legs. He looks up at me, for what I read as confirmation, and I grant it to him. I grant it to him loudly.

He runs his index up and down over my wet slit, and I gasp at the sensation. I haven't done anything in so long. Even before Anas; Rudra and I stopped having sex a few months into our marriage, and that was in my circumstance.

"Fuck," he lets out. "Mine." I look up at him, through my lidded eyes. "This is all mine." He leans down over me, taking my bottom lip between his teeth, before kissing his way over to my ear he nibbles the lobe of it, making a shuddered breath escape my parted lips. He runs his tongue over my sweet spot, and I shake under him, touching his bare skin. I want his shirt up, and his pants down.

"You want this?" he whispers.

"Yes, fuck yes," I reply. He parts my legs even further, with his arm, before nudging his knee between my legs. Very carefully, he massages my aching clit, and a moan hacks out of me. I widen my eyes, trying to shut my legs due to the sudden pleasure.

I catch the glimpse in his eyes, as he stares down at my face. The wicked smirk on his lips, doesn't go unnoticed. Suddenly, I feel cold. Empty. Alone. A protest yelps out of me, as he gets to his feet, walking toward my dining table. He grabs a chair, and sits on it, watching me. I push my underwear back to its original place, before sitting up.