Sin Corridor

Devil's incarnate

I turned to find a pair of dark eyes in a sculpted face that would make a nun strip on command. Though it's cliché, the proper way to describe him is tall, dark, and handsome.

Even as he seems completely put together in a tailored three-piece suit and loafers, I am not fooled by this gentleman's façade. Underneath prowls a dangerous demon waiting to pounce.

Expensive watch and slicked-back hair scream old money but what I notice is the underlying power in the flex of his muscles. And oh boy he is ripped.

Did I mention I have a thing for veiny forearms? He checks the box with strong fingers that can do wonders for my body.

I am tempted to see what he is packing, and from the tent in his pants, he is hung. Hmm, delicious.

Casual stance, cool demeanor, and eyes that promise pleasure, he is temptation in a gift-wrapped box that I want to unwrap with my teeth.

After my thorough examination, I find him smirking. Huh, I am not one of the typical girls who would cower when caught staring. I am shameless in that way. I held his stare in challenge and his' flared up in heat.

"Scared? This is way beneath my league."

"Is that so?" he smirked. He moves forward in slow languid steps like closing in on prey and plucks a black card from the table and starts flipping it between his fingers.

As I watched his fingers move in a trance, "And pray tell, what is your league?" he whispered so close to my lips, just a hair breath away. All I have to do is tilt my head to taste him but something in me warned against it.

"Huh?" I mumbled, too mesmerized and drunk on him to respond. The smell of mint and smoke assaulted me.

He chuckled. "Write down your name sweetheart." He pressed the card in my palms only then did I return to the living world.

"Do you smoke?" I don't judge people who smoke but I personally hate smokers. It reminds me of my dead father, coughing on hospital sheets and struggling for each breath, fighting lung cancer. I close my eyes willing the image to go away.

His thumb traces small maddening circles along my pulse, grounding me.

If he is confused by the abrupt change in topic, he does not comment on it.

"No," he says as he traces my jaw with his nose and I can feel his smile. The hand on my pulse moves over my arm in a featherlight touch sending goosebumps in its wake.

"Then why do you reek of smoke?" God, why do I sound breathless? He still hasn't even properly touched me.

"When you play with fire, you have to bear the burnt and its remnants cling to you." he nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder making me gasp.

"Good thing my specialty is ice." I snarked.

He gives me a devilish grin reminding me of ice cubes on heated skin. I shivered.

"You still haven't told me your name"

And he is standing close to me, my nipples hardening to painful points as they brush his solid chest and I am sure he is well aware of my reaction to him.

"Me-era" I stutter.

"Meera" he repeats my name slowly syllable by syllable as if tasting it.

And I wonder how it would sound when he whispers dirty things. Come for me, Meera. You are a dirty little girl, aren't you Meera?

One of his hands curls by my waist caressing the underside of my breast making my breath hitch while I stand there like a doll, letting him have his fill, completely under his command. For all my speech, he had me mewling with a few touches.

"What brings you here, Meera?" he asks as he places open-mouthed kisses along my jaw.

I don't want to tell him that I came here to live for once not because he wouldn't understand but because he is exactly the kind of life I desire.

"Insomnia," I say dryly. I am panting like I ran a race and I am so wet just from his playful touches, it's indecent.

He laughs surprising me. A rich sound that skitters deep into my bones spreading delicious warmth, so contrast to his Devil's incarnate vibes.

He takes the black card from my hand. Just when I thought he was going to drop it in the glass bowl, he pens my name on the card in elegant strokes and stuffed that card in my bra, in my fucking bra like I am a hooker. I sucked in a breath as the card comes in contact with my aching nipples.

The gall of him! But why does it make my pussy throb?

"Well Meera, I wish you a very long, hard night." His voice deep and meaning clear.

He steps back, rubbing his lower lip with his thumb and gives me a heated look from to toe. With a smirk, he departs leaving me a withering horny mess.