34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

Rayven

Icy terror flooded me as I stared at Belial’s visage. His storm-gray eyes, the ones I'd lost myself in countless times, watched me through the holes in his mask, an evil glint nearly making them glow.

I felt sick, my stomach twisting into knots at the sight of him.

“No, no, no. You’re not him.” It was the only thing I could say as I stared at Belial’s likeness. It looked so much like him, the same way Belphegor had portrayed Asmodeus, but I knew it wasn’t real.

Belial wore a black, lantern-sleeved shirt and tight black pants that hugged his impressive bulge perfectly. Everything about him was familiar, aside from his scent. The smell of sweet, ripe strawberries was missing, replaced by Belphegor's perfume-soaked skin. The illusion was otherwise uncanny, with the exception of bronze charms decorating his antlers instead of silver ones.

I focused on those inconsistencies, reminding myself it wasn’t real; Belial wasn’t really here.

“Rayven,” he said, the low, familiar rumble of his voice making my stomach flutter.

I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head. “No. Fuck you. You’re not him.”

“Don’t be like that, little human,” Belphegor said, tsking his tongue. “Aren’t you excited to see me? You should be dripping with arousal to see the demon you’ve been pining for standing before you, just a touch away.”

I felt his eyes slither down the length of my naked body, which was still stretched out on the St. Andrews Cross, completely exposed to him.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

It was true that I was desperate to see Belial. Not in a dream, like he appeared to me before I woke, but here, in front of me. I wanted him to appear more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life, but not like this. Never like this.

I’d considered a lot when I convinced Belphegor to betray Mammon and take me for himself, but I hadn’t counted on him using Belial against me.

How stupid of me to assume anything less. At least I wasn't being eaten, but it wasn’t a good sign that the fact no longer felt as reassuring as it once had.

The Lord of Gluttony taking on Belial’s form shouldn’t have unsettled me as much as it did.

Seeing him in the flesh made me want to scream and cry and wrap my arms around him all at once.

The complicated emotions knotting my chest turned heavy, like an anvil sat on my ribs, when Belial’s illusion pulled his black mask off and tossed it aside. Seeing his beautiful, scared face lit my body on fire, and a terrifying spike of desire and fear twisted through me.

“Fuck you, you sick bastard,” I cried, trying and failing to tear my gaze away from him. From his dark brows to his marred lips, everything about him was the demon I loved.

Judging by the laugh that followed, Belphegor knew just how deeply seeing him like this affected me, and he was enjoying himself way more than he had any right to.

“Oh yes, this will be much more fun than parading around as one of my ex-lovers,” he chuckled. “Is your heart racing out of fear? Or because of what I can do to you in this form?”

He reached for me, grasping my chin and forcing my gaze to his. His gloved thumb stroked my bottom lip, and I hated how soft and gentle the touch was. It was a lie.

“Keep your fucking hands off me,” I growled.

A wicked smirk curved his lips. “How about I touch myself then? Unfortunately, I haven’t had the chance to fuck Belial yet, but this will do for now.”

He slid his gloved hand over the front of his pants, his cock twitching beneath his touch. I didn’t know what I would do if he whipped out his dick and started stroking it in front of me. Would I find it hot because it was Belial’s likeness? Or would I be thoroughly fucking disgusted?

I shook my head, trying to banish the demented thoughts from my mind. I didn’t like where this was going at all.

Belphegor made a show of unlacing the front of his pants, shoving down the material until a thick, unpierced cock sprang free.

It was strange seeing Belial with a cock that didn’t belong to him—the shape and length weren’t quite right—but a shiver still rippled up my spine when the demon in front of me moaned in pleasure as he gripped the shaft.

The sounds, the delicious moans and groans, were all uncanny. If I closed my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between this fucked up illusion and the real noises Belial made when he was inside me.

“Do you like what you see?” Belphegor asked, sliding his hand up the shaft of his cock and dragging it back down with a hiss.

“No, and I wouldn’t mind chopping it off,” I spat, dragging my gaze to glare into his storm-gray eyes. “For old time’s sake.”

“I have a better idea,” Belphegor cooed, stepping closer to me with his fingers still wrapped around his dick. I whimpered as he lifted his free hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against my cheek.

“I could sink my cock into something besides my hand,” he said, leaning close enough that he was just a kiss away. His breath fanned over my face, but it was nothing like Belial’s. He stepped even closer, dragging the head of his cock up my bare thigh.

A scream lodged in my throat. Even if I yelled and cried, it wouldn’t do any good. No one was going to hear; no one was going to save me.

If he fucked me in Belial’s form, I didn’t think I’d ever recover. Every time I fucked the real Belial, I’d think of this moment and cry. Even if I closed my eyes and did my best to convince myself it was really him, pretending I wasn’t being raped by his shapeshifting brother, it would taint every single time Belial touched me from here on out.

“Come on, little human. Don’t you want to play? I’m a demon lord. Causing pain is in our nature…”

His fingers trailed up to coil the patch of hair between my legs around a ringed finger. “And I know you crave the Lord of Bones’ brand of pain.”

That damned voice… It sunk into my marrow and seeped into my system like poison.

“Get fucked!” I squirmed, trying to escape his touch, but it was no use. I was completely at his mercy. My legs trembled and would have given out if I wasn’t manacled to the cross.

“No?” he hummed, his free hand dipping between my legs, dancing over the skin of my inner thigh, dangerously close to my pussy. Goosebumps pebbled my skin, discomfort tearing its way through me as his fingers lifted to brush the three cuts Belial had made on my inner arm before falling away. “Well, if you’re sure. I can think of someone else who’d love to have Belial’s fat cock inside them.”

He tucked his dick back into his pants and stepped away from me, marching over to Catherine.

My stomach dropped as he reached up to unfasten her wrists, and her shrill scream pierced through the chamber as she fought against him.

“No!” I gasped, my heart slamming to a stop. I thrashed, jerking against my restraints, fighting with every ounce of my strength, but it was in vain. “Stop! Leave her alone!”

When she was free, Belphegor wrapped her long hair around his hand and dragged her to stand in front of me, turning her so she was on full display. His other hand came around to cup one of her breasts, eagerly dipping lower to tease over her exposed skin.

“Please, don’t touch her,” I begged, my voice coming out ragged and raw.

As much as I didn’t want him to touch me, seeing Belial's hands on another woman had my heart ripping at the seams. It wasn't real—I knew that—but it didn't make it feel any less difficult to watch or soothe the jealousy burning through my veins. It didn't numb the pain tearing me apart.

Aside from the visceral pain I felt at seeing Belial's hands on her, I couldn’t let Belphegor torture Catherine. Judging by her reaction, he’d done enough to her already. She hated Belial, and assaulting her in his form would be the ultimate penance for a crime she didn’t commit.

“Do whatever you want to me,” I said desperately, jerking against the shackles holding me in place. “Fuck me, do your worst, but…” I couldn’t believe I was saying it. “Leave her alone.”

He yanked her hair harder, making her cry out, and craned her neck until she was staring up at the ceiling. With a dark chuckle, he ran his teeth over her throat, letting his tongue dance out over the pale skin.

My stomach pitched to my feet and ice prickled up my spine. “Keep your fucking mouth off her.”

“You had your chance, mortal,” he teased, dipping lower to bite her shoulder. She jerked, trying to fight and get away, but he only twisted his fist tighter in her long locks until she submitted. “Now you get to watch while I play with the Lord of Bones’ other precious pet. I bet she’ll scream just as prettily as you do.”

His hand dipped between her thighs and slipped between her labia, his fingers harsh and careless against her skin. “He certainly has a type. You both have long, raven-black hair and moon-pale skin. The same frantic little flutter of her pulse pounding inside her…”

She screamed, shattering the rest of my heart, and he thrust two fingers into her entrance.

“You sick fucking bastard!” I cried.

I wanted to close my eyes and block out what was happening. I wanted to scream until the sound of Catherine's cries faded into nothing, to save myself from having to watch the demon I loved hurt her, touch her, rape her.

But as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t look away.

Tears burned my eyes and streamed down my cheeks as he fucked her with his fingers in front of me, a sick fucking grin distorting his scarred features.

“You take my fingers so well,” he muttered in Catherine’s ear, the sound of Belial’s voice making me sick. “I wonder how you’ll take other parts of me.”

“No!” I screamed, but he was already pulling his fingers out of her and dragging her backward toward the bed. “Stop! Don’t do this!”

My words went unheard as he shoved her down onto the mountain of blankets, shifting the fabric around until he found what he was looking for: more manacles.

Catherine fought against him, kicking and thrashing as he fixed her wrists in the restraints, but she was no match for his size and strength.

“Now, now, that’s no way for a good little pet to behave,” he said, clamping a massive hand over Catherine’s mouth to muffle her screams. She trembled as he painted a lick down her neck, catching her nipple in his mouth.

“Belphegor, please ,” I begged for both of us. I couldn’t stand the sight of Belial pinning another naked woman down while she screamed for him to set her free. It was worse than anything I’d faced so far in all the layers of hell.

If I had anything in my stomach, I would have thrown up. Instead, I could only choke on the bile burning my throat.

Belphegor crawled off the bed, peeling off his clothes and tossing them to the floor while Catherine screamed herself hoarse. I felt so hopeless, so fucking helpless, watching and not being able to do anything.

It’s not him.

Through the tears blurring my vision, I watched him pry her thighs apart and settle there. Pain lanced down my arms as I strained against my cuffs.

I had to get free. I had to help her. I had to do something besides stand there and watch the visage of the demon I loved rape this pour woman’s soul.

“You should be happy to serve your lord,” Belphegor rumbled in Belial’s deep baritone as he lined his cock up and pressed his hips forward. He sank into her slowly at first, gradually picking up speed. His mouth moved over her skin, his tongue dancing over her chest, up her neck. “It’s an honor to be bedded by the Lord of Limbo.”

My heart clenched as I tried to block out his words, squeezing my eyes closed as he picked up speed. Even though I wasn’t watching, the sounds of flesh against flesh and the heartbroken whimpers coming from Catherine turned my stomach to acid and had detailed images forming in my mind.

I couldn’t escape it, and neither could she.