Currency in Flesh

Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

S ean thrashed against his bindings, looking like a trussed pig headed for slaughter. The thought made me chuckle to myself because, honestly, he was.

I reached for the straps of my nightgown, preparing to pull it back up, but Lady Cora swatted my hand away with the flogger. “I do not recall telling you to dress.” My eyes flitted back and forth between Sean and Lady Cora. Did she really mean for me to do this while exposed? I took three deep breaths. Sean had seen my body countless times. This was nothing new or frightening.

But then his voice started to whisper in my mind.

Fat bitch. Your saggy fucking tits. Disgusting. You sure let yourself go.

The corners of my eyes prickled, but I stood. The little bit of fabric that composed my nightgown slipped down my hips and legs, and I stepped out of it. I felt Lady Cora’s eyes trace the lines of my body, lingering on the warm, red skin of my chest and the generous curve of my ass. I straightened my shoulders. Sean was a piece of shit in a blood stained bespoke suit. His opinion of me was as worthless to me as his soul was to Lady Cora. I smiled, then, feeling strong and secure in the knowledge that he would never matter again, and that someone thought I was precious .

He continued to make pathetic sounds and squirm as I approached him. This time, I noticed, the table held not only implements to cause pain, but also a spread of much more appealing toys. I looked over my shoulder at Lady Cora and she smirked.

A thin metal rod sat at the edge of the table, about the length of my forearm, with a wrapped handle at the end. Picking it up, I swung it through the air and found an odd delight in the whistling sound it made. Sean’s eyes had widened to show the whites all the way around, and a high-pitched whine managed to find its way through his gag. He had lost a shoe at some point since arriving in the Underworld, and his bare foot was an odd shade of blotchy purple, I assumed, from being restrained. I gave the rod a few more practice swings, testing out the weight of it in my hand, before hitting Sean’s foot directly across the arch.

He screamed, and Lady Cora laughed. “Such a vicious creature,” she mused. “I generally save the feet for later on in the process. They are quite sensitive.” I hit him again, and he jerked wildly from side to side like a fish pulled from the sea.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, bending to put my face level with his. “To be unable to fight back?”

His features contorted with rage, and I walked back to the table with forceful steps. I picked up a pair of what I was pretty sure were pruning shears. Sean’s anger fueled my own. How dare he be angry at me, of all people. He should be begging for my mercy, hoping I’d find some shred of affection left in me for him. He should be praying I’d take pity on him, now that the tables were turned. But he had shown no remorse, no apology. He was just as filled with self-important disdain hanging here like a hog as he had been slapping me in our kitchen .

I moved without thinking, reaching between the rope and his upper thighs to wrench his pinky finger toward me. He blubbered and wailed, the noise building and building until it was a crescendo of true fear, and with a slightly manic laugh, I cut the wriggling finger off just below the knuckle.

I didn’t expect the blood to well up so quickly, and it poured from the wound onto the fabric of his pants, dripping down to the floor below. His eyes rolled back, and I thought he might lose consciousness, but before I could look any closer my confidence collapsed, and I doubled over, heaving. There was nothing for me to vomit up except the red liquor, and the sight of it made me dizzy, blending with Sean’s thick blood in my mind and sending my hand flailing for the table to stay standing.

I didn’t know why it affected me so much more acutely than when I had broken all his fingers. Furthermore, I didn’t understand why his fingers were even identifiable after what I had done with the flashlight. I sucked in deep breaths of cool, faintly smoky air, and tried to steady myself. Logic trickled in slowly, and I realized Lady Cora must have healed him. His face, too, was missing any sign of the slash I had given him. I startled at the sound of Lady Cora’s voice from behind me, but the gentle touch of her hands at my waist helped slow my rabbit-fast heartbeat.

“Breathe, blossom,” she murmured. “Remember the first time you visited the pit?”

I let out a grim chuckle. “I almost passed out then, too.”

Her lips grazed my shoulder. “I forget how delicate you can be. A fragile little bloom.” Her hands moved forward, sliding over my bare stomach and grabbing handfuls of my pliant flesh. “So soft,” she crooned in my ear. The anxiety coursing through me started to sink lower, heating my insides in a much more pleasant way, especially as I noticed her usual pointed nails were shortened and smooth. She had promised to make me come, after all.

One of her hands drifting down lower, I sucked in a sharp breath as her fingertips grazed over my pussy. She nipped at my earlobe, lips curving into a smile against my neck when I let out a little whimper, and my back arched, pressing my ass toward her. Teasing, agile fingers slipped between my thighs, parting my flesh just enough to run one finger through the slick wetness that had begun to gather. Lady Cora hummed, in appreciation or approval, and I heard her bring her hand to her mouth.

“My perfect little pet,” she whispered, “you taste so very sweet.”

My lips fell open, but I couldn’t say a word as she pushed her hand between my legs once again, finding my entrance and slipping two fingers into me. Her long tongue traced lazy patterns across my neck and I leaned back into her, moving one foot to the side to give her better access. She fucked me with slow, languid motions, letting my arousal build until I could feel it on my thighs. Her long fingers moved against a place deep inside me that made my toes curl, and I couldn’t help but move my hips in time with her. When she withdrew from me, I whined, and she shushed me with a quiet hiss.

I felt slick fingertips move back, circling my ass, and I tensed slightly. I’d been fucked there before, but it hadn’t been enjoyable. But her touch was so gentle, my body so wet and accepting of her, that I relaxed into the slight pressure and groaned when one finger slipped inside the tight hole.

“I am going to fuck every single one of your delicious little holes,” Lady Cora breathed into my ear. “With my fingers, my tongue, maybe even my entire hand if you’re a good pet.”

My pleasure-heavy eyelids shot open. Her hand? She laughed. “Oh, Grace, you have no idea what your body is capable of.”

I pictured it, her slender fingers inside me, framed by the plush, pink petals of my pussy. My legs spread wide, giving in to her, stretching to accommodate four fingers. Her thumb drawing together with the rest, her hand disappearing into me until all I could see was her fine-boned wrist.

“Fuck,” I moaned. I pushed back into her, wanting that finger in my ass to be deeper, to feel her inside me as I envisioned such an obscene, unspeakable act. Another finger pushed its way inside me, and this time my body admitted her easily. Her thumb toyed with my clit as those fingers worked in and out of my ass. It felt unnaturally good, better than anything had before, and I wondered if I had been missing out on this all my life.

Just as the sensation started to build, she slipped free of me and I nearly sobbed. “If you think a single pinky is enough for me to let you come, you will be sorely disappointed.” I pouted, and she laughed. “Go on, I told you, I want to hear him scream.”

My legs were unsteady, but I shook off the syrupy slowness of pleasure and walked back to face my husband. His bleeding had stopped, and he watched me with a mixture of horror and disgust. Picking up the bloodied shears, I snipped the rope of his gag, and his head lolled forward—no longer held up by force. I knew he would have something vile to say, and I was counting on the anger it would bring me to give me the confidence to keep going.

A cracked, bitter laugh clawed its way up from his chest. “You’re fucking that—that thing?” he croaked. “Have you even seen what it really looks like?”

I knew Lady Cora could change her form, had seen her as a dark-haired man when I first arrived in her realm. And she had mentioned choosing this body intentionally. I wasn’t afraid of whatever else she made herself to be, if anything, it piqued my interest to know what she had shown Sean.

Would you like me to show you? her voice spoke in my thoughts. I nodded without looking away from Sean. There was a strange susurrating sound from behind me, and a long noise like a brush upon canvas, and then I felt something cool and smooth move against my thigh.

It was only my desire to see Sean’s panic that kept me from falling into panic of my own. An impossibly large serpent was slowly coiling itself up beside me. Its scales were nearly black, but shimmered with a breathtaking, subtle rainbow iridescence. As its immense body shifted, and I was able to see its head, a quiet gasp fell from my lips. It was easily a foot across, triangular in the way venomous vipers were, and large, angular eyes glinted chartreuse in the candlelight. It was horrifying and beautiful, elegant and ominous. I thought I would have recognized her in any form, but this one was absolutely remarkable.

All bravado gone, Sean began to cry, and he sounded like a child. Lady Cora coiled around the bottom of the cabinet, making it impossible for him not to look at her. He shook uncontrollably. The grouping of candles to the left of the cabinet was dense, glowing brightly with dozens of small flames, and I held the black iron over them, rotating it back and forth as I watched him quiver and the serpent continue to coil itself in a massive spiral. After a few minutes, I figured it was hot enough, and I walked quickly back to Sean, moving in front of the serpent with zero hesitation, and pressing the heated iron against his torso right below his ribcage.

The sizzle of Sean’s burning clothing, and then his skin, sent wisps of smoke rising through the air. It smelled terrible, like burnt hair and overcooked bacon, but the garbled wailing and half-formed words that poured from Sean were like a perfectly harmonized choir. I laughed again, and he bellowed threats and curses amidst violent retching gags and pain-heavy sobs.

Something in me snapped. I wasn’t looking at a person anymore, all the inescapable compassion I felt seeing another human being in pain was gone, replaced by a dangerous combination of anger and enjoyment. I liked it. I reveled in the inhuman sounds that came from my writhing abuser, I was filled with amusement seeing him so completely helpless and suffering so completely. I was so fucking angry that this weak, sniveling wretch of a man had made me feel so many terrible things.

I grinned like a woman unhinged as I stalked back to the table, picking up what appeared to be a length of chain attached to a bit of pipe. As though watching a film play out before me, I saw my arm swing through the air, the chain striking Sean in the shoulder, the ribs, the face, the leg. Again and again, I heard the dull clank of the chain’s links, the whoosh of the pipe. Sean’s voice had faded into nothing but the static whine of an analog TV, a station not properly tuned. The room had dissolved into darkness and Sean, and I hadn’t realized Lady Cora had returned to her more human form until I felt cool hands on my biceps.

I jerked—shocked out of my furious tunnel-vision by the touch, and spun to find wide green eyes staring back at me. My skin was coated in a layer of sweat, sparkling faintly in the candlelight and the verdant glow of her gaze. The moment I stilled, my adrenaline spiked and then crashed and my entire body began to shake. I resisted the urge to look at Sean. I didn’t want to know what he looked like. He was quiet, and that was enough.

“I know I have been insistent about this,” Lady Cora said in a gentle voice. “But you do not need to continue if you have reached your limit. I wanted his punishment to come from you for both of your sake, but not to your detriment.”

“I’m fine,” I said, voice quivering despite the confident words. “I think it’s just adrenaline. I’m okay, emotionally.” She stepped into me, her lips finding my shoulder. I grimaced, knowing I was covered in sweat and blood and god knows what else. “I’m disgusting,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t touch me right now.”

Her eyes blazed. “Grace, you have never been more appealing. It took all of my restraint to keep myself from sliding between your legs while he screamed.”

I knew my face had gone red. “I’m glad you think my unhinged violence is sexy.”

She sank to her knees in one fluid motion, so much like the serpent she had been only moments before. “Let me taste you.”

My body moved of its own accord, one leg swiveling out to bare myself to her more readily. Her eyes stayed locked on mine as her tongue slowly slipped from between her lips. Fuck , it was so very clearly inhuman, but some twisted part of me reveled in it.

I was fucking a monster; I was a monster.

As though I had spoken aloud, she shook her head. No, her voice said in my mind. You are a treasure. Before I could reply, her long, flexible tongue brushed over the line parting my flesh. So delicate, like the feather-light wing of a butterfly, but then her palms splayed over my thighs and she leaned into me. Her tongue opened me, teasing apart the wet, plush folds of my pussy and delved into my drenched center. She found my entrance and pushed in, undulating as she sank further and further into me. I was unsteady on my feet, still coming down from the rush of my vengeance, and the waves of sensation nearly sent me toppling to my knees.

Her strong arms bracketed my wide hips, pushing into the soft flesh and keeping me upright even as she plunged her tongue deep within me. It felt like she was devouring me from within, and when her lips hit my clit, it was almost too much. I was so full, could barely think with the intense sensation of that long, swirling tongue all twisted up inside my body. She groaned, and the vibration of it traveled over my skin, leaving goosebumps peppering my bare, damp skin. My head fell back and I moaned, loud enough to echo throughout the room.

I could feel her tongue withdrawing and I cried out, “No! Please!” but she just chuckled, tongue still half-buried inside me. When I was well and truly empty, I sucked in a deep breath and then felt her fingers toying with the now relaxed and needy entrance. She tugged at the thin bit of flesh, opening me further and causing pathetic little whimpers to tumble from my lips.

Her hot breath moved over my thighs and she kissed each of them with shocking tenderness before moving her tongue right where I wanted it. It curled around my clit, tugging at it in a way that felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. My thighs spasmed with the overload of firing nerves, and I cried her name.

Her fingers quit stretching me, and slid in with a devastating slowness. I didn’t know how many, all I knew is it was divine. “Your Highness,” I panted, breathless, “I don’t know if—” I shuddered, knees shaking violently. “I can’t stay up—need to lie down.” She chuckled again, and it was like an electric current running through my oversensitive clit. I cried out again, wild and untamed, and she removed her fingers as slowly as she had put them in.

“Come, then, pet,” she said, rising to her full height and taking me by the wrist. Her palm was sticky with my wetness and I felt debauched, knowing it was touching my sweaty, bloody skin.

She led me toward the platform and I froze. “Wha?—”

But she just took me by the shoulders and directed me to turn and lie upon the cool marble floor of the upraised platform. My knees hung off the edge, putting my pussy higher than my feet, and she got to her hands and knees between them. Sean was only inches away, and I realized with a twist of my gut that she knelt in a pool of his blood .

She looked like the Goddess she was, eyes feral and bright as she looked up at me from between my thighs, but then her tongue swirled over me again and I fell back with a pained sigh. When I felt her pushing into me again, I lifted my hips, wanting to give her all the access she could need. My hands opened and closed into fists at my sides as I tried to fight the rising waves of impending climax. She sucked at my clit and fucked me with her fingers, and it was almost too much to bear.

She made a long, shuddering groan against my pussy, and my toes curled. It was like every high-priced sex toy I’d ever tried, all rolled into one all-encompassing pleasure. I rolled my hips against her and called her name out into the silence and the smoke. Whatever she was doing, it was filling me so completely that it approached pain. Her hand moved in, out, in, out, and I could have sworn each press into me stretched me more. Pulling her mouth from me with a wet pop , she whispered, “Breathe in for me, princess,” and I struggled to take a deep breath. Her mouth was back on me and it was so much, so many places that felt good. I exhaled, and screamed as I thought my pussy was about to tear in two, but then there was nothing but a cascade of pleasure as my body pulled her in and I came and came and came.

“The best girl,” she murmured against my thigh as she guided me through the longest orgasm of my life. “I told you, you have no idea what your body is capable of.”

Those words shook me from my climax-induced haze and I pushed up onto my elbows, wondering what she was talking about. Her hand was lost inside me, buried past her wrist. My thighs, her face, her arms, all of it was smeared with blood. Panicked, I scrambled to sit up, but she stopped me with a hand across my hips.

“It is not yours, pet,” she assured me. And then it settled around me like a low-hanging mist.

The Queen of the Underworld had just fucked me in my husband’s blood.