The Devil's Masquerade: The Poison (3 page)

Dennis Savage, my father, has been powerful and wealthy since I was born. My stepmother, Belinda, was arranged for my father by his own father. She was expected to make a strong match for him. Belinda is, and always will be, loyal to my father — her one endearing quality. She would never betray him, and she has strong connections with the High Council which gives my father the edge over all the other Lords. His need for my stepmother, however, didn’t stop him from satisfying his sexual desires.

My mother, Sancia Jayzon, was so beautiful that every man that saw her wanted her, and my father was no different. Despite my stepmother’s protests, he pursued my mother anyway. My mother is said to have fell hard for my father. She adored him, and he loved being with her, craved her even, but he refused to love her. He refused to show any sign of weakness to a woman, to a simple, non-powerful woman. Only, he had no idea how much power she did have over him. He was ready to have me killed after I was born, but she, yes she, the simple powerless woman, stood up to him and said, “If you take my child, I will take your heart with me, to my grave.” The only sign of his heart ever beating is me.

Unfortunately, my mother died of an illness no one could seem to heal. No doctor, or hospital that my father took my mother to could help her. The day she died, the harshest storm ever formed hitting our city and destroying much of it. The leftover rubble was cleaned up, and out of the ashes, my father began to rebuild, and he rebuilt an empire that could not be fractured.

My father has never approved of any relationship my siblings or I desired to have. He only approves the ones that are arranged for us. I have to wonder if his heart was taken to the grave with my mother, like she threatened to do. All that is left of him is a heartless, vindictive soul. No one can be happy if my father is not.

While my father built his empire, I was brought in to share his home with my half-brother, half-sister, and detestable step-mother. My younger sister, Galena, has been more motherly to me than my stepmother has ever been. I guess I can understand why, not that it made things any easier for me. I grew up sheltered from the world until my father decided I was ready to be Pasha: a sultan, a prince to his kingdom as he saw it. It is an honor to be believed in by him, for him to call me, “Ma Joie,” French for, “My Joy.” I am his joy, and for anyone to take that joy away from him is considered a direct attack. I smile with happiness every time he honors me this way. I know what I mean to him, but I can’t imagine I can push much further. I need to tread carefully and give his choice for me a chance while I pursue my own.

Chapter 3

Dante

I don’t know what it is I am feeling, but I do know Sophia makes my every day better than the day before. I try to keep calm around her and not look too eager, though she catches me smiling at her more than once during our work day. At the end of my day, I approach her once again and ask her to join me for dinner. She smiles but tells me she has a lot to do before she can leave, rambling on and on about the long list of duties she must complete. There is no way she can finish all of her work in time for dinner. I understand her issue after looking around the garage, so I change into one of the many uniforms she has available and begin cleaning up, doing the odd things she mentioned. I don’t plan on having dinner alone tonight.

“What are you doing, Dante?” Sophia asks as she emerges from her office.

“You said you couldn’t leave until you were done, so I am helping you leave earlier in hopes you will have dinner with me,” I say, trying to look my best whilst holding trash and a broom.

Her expression leaves me confused, and I prepare for another one of her harsh gut punches as she quickly approaches. Only, Sophia smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. “Oh my gosh! You are so adorable.” I feel a smile coming over my face, but I don’t want to look ridiculous. I try to force it back, but it keeps fighting its way through. She lets go of me and laughs for some reason.
It’s the damn smile… I know it.
“You are a big spoiled brat, and you talk strange, but at least you care about something other than yourself.”

“Of course. I care about you, Sophia,” I say, feeling good about my answer when she leans up on her toes and kisses me on the lips. I don’t let her simply taste my lips and run; I bring her back in and press my lips against hers. The wondrous sensations running through my body give me reason to hold her tight, massaging her lips open so I can slip my tongue between them, urging her to give me more. I pick her up, sit her on the hood of one of the cars, and pull her legs around my waist. She leans back and allows me to feel her breasts, but the moment I start to rip through her shirt, she hesitates to go any further. I press my erection against her and watch as her eyes flutter and her mouth quivers, a subtle invitation. Her body heats up with mine, and her clothes begin to stick to her skin. I unzip the top of my grease-stained coveralls, allowing the pants to hang halfway off my hips while I push her shirt over her head. Her nipples tease me as they press boldly against her tank top. I take hold of the fabric between her breasts and tear it from her body, releasing her breasts into the open air. She gasps but settles in as I massage one breast after the other against my lips. My cock frees itself, wanting its own desires to be satisfied. Our skin is wet and heated, and I have to peel her pants from her legs, but I make up for it by holding them up and kissing every part of them from the tips of her toes to her barely-there panties. I lick the outline of her pussy against the fabric before slowly edging them down and out of my way. I force my tongue inside and send her reeling backwards, but my tight hold on her thighs keeps her from getting away from me. Sophia reaches out and fists my hair, but she doesn’t beg me to stop. I feel the rush of her pleasure against my mouth and proudly lick my lips as I rise up. Still gripping her legs, I give my cock what it has been wanting. Feeling inside of her, my dick has never felt so good. I look down at her and smile, but when she opens her eyes to me and reaches out for me, I instantly collapse into her arms and kiss her deeply, whispering my secret desires before coming inside of her with a whimper.

“Ummm … well that was an interesting first kiss,” she says.

“I liked it,” I reply with a smile. “I can’t wait for the second.”

She smiles but straightens up with an attitude. “No second kiss until I get my dinner.” I help her off the hood of the car and kindly give her another kiss.

“That one was only for inspiration.”

“Inspiration for what?”

“To decide where I want to take you for dinner.”

Smiling beautifully, she looks over me and laughs. “You are a mess, you are going to have to clean yourself up before we go to dinner because I simply cannot have you embarrass me.” I lean over and look into some shiny rims she has displayed to see the grease on my face and my hair a mess. “Don’t worry. You can clean up at my house while I make us dinner.”

“But I was going to …”

“Shush! The last thing I feel like doing is getting dressed up and going to one of your hoity-toity restaurants.” I would argue but something tells me it would be best to just shut up and follow her.

Sophia’s home is small, but refreshing and warm. While she prepares dinner, I take a shower and scrub the dirt and grime from beneath my fingernails. I walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, searching for my clothes that seem to have disappeared. “Sophia, where are my clothes?”

She runs in and looks down at my towel and smiles, “Wow, ummm. What was your question again?”

I shake my head at her wandering eyes. “Where are my clothes?”

“Oh yes, your clothes. I hid them. I laid out some more common people clothes there for you. Try them, or wear your towel if you prefer, and then meet me in the kitchen for dinner.” I look down at the odd wears and pick them up in horror. “Don’t look at them that way. They are my brother’s, but they should fit you fine. They are sweats, something you should try once in a while to relax a little.” I refuse to wear such things, so I sit down to dinner in my towel to her instant humor. “Stubborn ass.”

“I would be fine naked if you prefer, but I was trying to be respectful, and those clothes are nowhere near respectful.”

“I’m not complaining, Dante, the towel is fine with me. Perfectly fine,” she says with a suspicious smile. “Now that you are here, can you help me by getting that dish on the top shelf?” I do as asked and notice her staring at me. “Nice ass,” she laughs, putting the dish aside and sitting down.

“You didn’t need that dish?” She shakes her head and waits for me to sit. I narrow my eyes in her direction, wondering how this woman is causing me to be so under her power.

This time during dinner, we enjoy some polite, and somewhat flirtatious, conversation. At one point, I find her hand in mine and enjoy rubbing circles with my thumb more than I do eating. When we finish dinner, Sophia leads me to another room where she sits down close to me. I invite her to share my towel, but instead, she has me toss it aside.

Sophia tempts me by running her fingers over my arms, my chest, and down my neck until I can’t take it anymore. I grab her hips and sit her square on my lap. She asks me to slow down before she moans my name and whimpers, “Mmm, don’t stop.”

She pushes me back but then pulls me forward again, straddling me with growing pleasure of her own. Sophia slips out of her shirt and breaks free of her bra while I enjoy watching her control me. “I want you, Sophia. I want to be inside you,” I say between soft kisses and disrespectful touches. “Do you want me?” I ask, sliding my hands into her pants and watching her carefully.

“Dante, I have only been with one other man in my life, and it ended terribly. We are moving much faster than that relationship. You shouldn’t be here now, and I certainly …” She begins moaning again as I lift my hips up into her. I pick her up and find her bedroom. Placing her on the bed, I slide off her remaining clothes.

“I promise you, Sophia, I am not like any other man. You won’t ever need another. I will take care of you forever and beyond,” I say as I reach down and into her hot, wet desiring place that she happily opens up wide for me. “Let me inside of you Sophia, let me come inside you and feel you come on me,” I whisper against her ear, and she continues to search for control of her emotions. I won’t let her maintain control. I go down and pleasure her until she gives in, until she is completely mine. Her exhaustion is my success, and now I can have more of what I want. She rubs her hands down my erection and licks her lips. “No, no I think my cock is better served somewhere else.” She releases her grip on me and lies back, closing her eyes and breathing heavily as she awaits me. I find my place in her arms, and my cock finds it way so deep inside the tight, warm center that I have to let go of my emotions and groan my appreciation for her.

“Dante, please don’t let go of me,” she cries out, holding onto me with everything she has.

“Never, my darling, I will never, ever, let you go.” She smiles, and I follow. I feel so good. The emotions running through my body are like nothing I have ever felt before. The moment I feel her come on me, I release into her, holding her close and respecting her breathless requests by wrapping her in my arms. I can’t imagine anything feeling more wonderful in my life.

As opposed to my perfect night last night, tonight I am forced to stay home and have dinner with a woman that my father finds more suitable for me. Wendy is the well-bred daughter of one of my father’s friends. Wendy’s father is an advisor to the High Council and, therefore, important to my father. She is an attractive woman which gives me a slight hope for the evening, but the woman takes my hand without looking my way and sits as though she has a pole extending through her body. She seems as if she is waiting for someone to let out the seams of her dress so she can breathe. When we are left alone to talk, I do my best to try to find some endearing quality about this woman for my father. “So what do you enjoy doing?”

“I enjoy nothing. My existence is simply to be and breed with my match. To respect my husband and follow him wherever he goes,” Wendy says with little emotion.

“You don’t do anything all day then?”

“I study and prepare myself to be the perfect mother and wife,” she says. “I assure you, no man could want for much more than me.”

“Really?” I ask, looking over her stiff posture. I can only imagine taking her to bed. The thought sends chills down my spine.

“Yes, whatever you need, I can do. Whatever you care to discuss, I can discuss, or I can simply listen to your wonderful ideas and feel great pleasure in hearing your intelligence be spoken.”

“What if my ideas are terrible though?” I ask.

“I am sure they are not. I am sure whatever you say should be heard and executed without question.”

“What if I told you stand on your head?” I ask, receiving a slightly puzzled expression. However, I have to hand it to her. Whatever I tell her to do, she does, and by the time my brother comes in to check on me, Wendy is balancing on one foot with a book on her head and an apple in her hand while reciting her favorite poetry. Saldean looks her over and nods with approval.