“What toll?” I shook my head. “You said something about that before but you never explained. I tried to give him the coin but he wouldn’t take it.”
“It is not in money that you must pay.” Laish was still looking at me intently. “But in deeds. You must pay the Sin Tax to cross from one circle of Hell into the next.”
“Sin Tax? What are you talking about?” I put a hand on my hip, all out of patience. “Look, Laish, just tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it. Come on—help me out, here!”
“I will be more than pleased to help you out—though I do not think you will like it,” he said quietly. “You see, Gwendolyn, in order to pass on to another circle, you must commit a sin. A small one at this juncture, as we are still in the upper levels of Hell. But as we pass through each concentric circle, your crime must be greater and greater in order to satisfy the tax. It is the only way that you, as a living human, may pass through.”
“But…what kind of a sin?” I asked, though I was afraid I already knew.
“One of lust, I believe will do at this point.” Laish fixed me with those ruby eyes and beckoned to me. “Come to me, Gwendolyn. I can help you pay the tax.”
At last I understood. This was what he had meant when he said I would have to let him touch me in order to get through Hell. I felt a flush of warmth run through me, though if it was lust or anger I couldn’t tell—maybe it was a mixture of both.
“You…I…” I had no words. What could I say? “What…what am I supposed to do?” I finally got out.
“Just come to me,” he murmured. “I will be gentle, I swear.”
Rather than reassuring me, his words scared the Hell out of me—no pun intended. “What are you planning to do—have sex right here on the river bank?” I demanded, holding my ground. “Because I’m not up for that—not even to get across the river.”
Laish sighed. “I wish you did not fear my touch so very much. No, mon ange, I will not penetrate you now. As I said, only a little sin is necessary to satisfy at this juncture. If you let me simply touch you, I think we can pay the tax very well.”
“Touch me how?” I asked, still reluctant to go to him. “What are you going to do? I need to know.”
“Simply caress you.” His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and his voice was soft and deep. “Come, Gwendolyn—don’t fear me. I will never hurt you, I swear it.”
“And if I let you do this—if I let you touch me—we’ll be able to get on the ferry and go across?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.
He nodded. “Exactly so. Come.”
At last I came to him and stood in front of him. I couldn’t meet his eyes though—instead, I stared down at my little black shoes.
“All right, here I am. Go ahead,” I muttered.
Laish sighed. “May I remind you that you must be a willing participant in this? It is you who are paying the toll—not me.”
“But I don’t know how to do that.” My heart was pounding but I made myself look up at him anyway. “I don’t know how to…to make myself willing.”
“I can help you,” Laish pulled me into his arms and nuzzled my neck, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of my throat.
I couldn’t help the shiver that ran through me. Goddess help me, I knew it was wrong but I wanted him to do this. It was scary and dangerous and absolutely sinful but I just couldn’t deny it—his touch felt good.
I thought he would continue kissing me but then, to my surprise, Laish turned me gently in his arms so that my back was pressed to his front.
“It’s all right,” he murmured in my ear, running his big, warm hands up and down my shivering bare arms. “I won’t hurt you, Gwendolyn. I wish only to bring you pleasure.”
He was doing a pretty good job of it already, and he hadn’t even really touched any “sinful” areas yet. I bit my lip as his warm hands moved inward, caressing my belly and sliding up the thin silk dress to cup the under-curves of my breasts.
“You don’t know how much I wanted to do this as we were riding earlier,” Laish murmured in my ear. I had to bite back a moan as he cupped me more fully and rubbed over the hard bud of one nipple with his thumb.
“You…you did?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t sound so breathless.
“Mmm-hmm.” His voice was a low growl of pleasure and I could feel something hot and hard poking against my lower back. Gently, he plucked at the other nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and finger. I gave a little cry as sparks of pain and pleasure shot through me, then bit my lip, trying to keep back the other sounds that wanted to come out.
“It’s all right, mon ange,” he murmured in my ear. “You can make noise if you need to. I like to hear it—like to know how I am affecting you.”
I wished desperately that I could say he wasn’t affecting me at all but Laish would have seen through my lie at once. It was obvious by the way my heart was pounding and my breathing was short and shallow that his hands on me made me react.
I didn’t know why I felt his touch so keenly. I had let other guys touch my breasts before—mostly back during my reckless, rebellious phase in high school—before I saw what happened to Keisha and decided I didn’t want to end up that way. Since every boy I ever fooled around with had to stop above the waist and couldn’t go any further, it never ended happily. But I had to admit, it had felt damn good while it lasted.
But no one had ever touched me the way Laish was touching me now. His hands on my body were gentle but incredibly possessive. He stroked over my flesh as though he owned me and intended to do exactly what he wanted with me—which was apparently to make me moan. Because I couldn’t help doing exactly that.
“Does this feel good, mon ange?” he murmured, pulling down the thin top of the dress to reveal my naked breasts.
I wanted to protest that we were in public, that we weren’t alone, that I couldn’t let him do that to me. But somehow nothing came out of my mouth but another moan as he touched me.
“Laish,” I gasped as he cupped my bare breasts, twisting both nipples at the same time and then letting them go and stroking them with feather light caresses.
“Yes, mon ange?” he growled softly in my ear, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Tell me, my little witch—after so many years of enforced virginity—are you hungry to be touched? Hungry for the feel of hands on your body?”
That, of course, was the real problem. I was hungry to be touched—so hungry that I didn’t even care that it was a demon who was doing the touching.
“Stop,” I whispered. “Stop, we…we must have paid the tax by now.”
“Not quite.” Suddenly one of his hands left my breasts and stroked down, sliding over my trembling abdomen and coming to stop between my thighs.
“Laish!” I protested, squeezing my legs closed as tightly as I could. I was already over stimulated down there from riding on the hard saddle. I was afraid if I let him start touching me when I was already so hot, I wouldn’t want him to stop.
“Relax, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “I wish only to feel the heat of your sweet little cunt in my palm. I promised not to penetrate you and that is a promise I intend to keep.”
I didn’t want to—I told myself I didn’t, anyway—but somehow I found myself spreading my legs for him.
“That’s good. Good girl,” he growled softly. His large, warm hand slid down my leg and before I knew it, his long fingers were trailing under my dress and up my bare thigh.
I trembled against him, expecting to feel those fingers slide into my lacy panties at any moment. Instead, he simply cupped me, as he had promised he would, holding my pussy gently but firmly in the palm of his hand.
“Why, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, tracing the slit of my pussy delicately through the thin lace. “Your panties are positively soaked.”
I gasped and jumped at his light, teasing touch. “Laish, please…” I pleaded, uncertain what I was begging for.
“Please, what, mon ange?” His deep
voice was filled with lust. “Do you wish me to touch you more, to slide my fingers past this flimsy barrier and fill your soft little cunt while you grind against my palm?”
“I…you shouldn’t,” I whispered breathlessly. But I kept feeling closer and closer to something I’d never felt before—some hidden peak that had always been denied me, no matter how I searched for it. “I shouldn’t want you to.”
“But you do, don’t you?” he insisted. “You want me to fill you, to penetrate your hot little cunt and fuck you with my fingers until you come all over my hand. Come, Gwendolyn, admit it.”
“All right—fine,” I moaned, unable to help myself. “I…I admit it. I want you to.” The moment I said the words, I felt a ripple in the air around me—as though something vast and inimitable had somehow disappeared. The tiny part of my brain which was still capable of rational thought wondered what the hell it was. But most of me was still completely centered on Laish’s hand between my thighs. “Do it,” I begged him, shamelessly. “I want you to—I want you to touch me.” I was panting now, unable to catch my breath. “There,” I gasped. “I said it. Satisfied?”
“By no means, and neither are you, I know,” Laish murmured. Suddenly, he drew his hand away and stepped back from me. “But the Sin Tax is.”
“What?” I was so dizzy from desire I didn’t understand what he was saying at first. I turned to face him. “Why…why did you stop?”
Laish raised an eyebrow at me. “You mean why did I stop without giving you satisfaction? I do not like to leave you hanging, as it were, Gwendolyn, but I was under the impression that you didn’t want to do any more than was absolutely necessary to pay the toll.”
“And…we did? It’s paid?” Without his hands on me, I was beginning to get a little control back. It occurred to me that I was standing there with my breasts still completely bare and I had just begged him to touch me. Not just touch me—penetrate me. Blushing, I pulled up the top of the red silk dress and pushed down the bottom, trying to ignore how wet I still was between my legs.
“Yes, I believe it is.” Laish was still looking at me steadily. “At this early juncture it was enough for you to simply admit your lust aloud. Now we should be able to cross over the river to the second circle.”
“Great,” I muttered, smoothing down my dress and feeling like a fool. Not just any fool either—a stupid, horny fool. Ugh. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
“Gwendolyn…” Laish lifted my chin and made me look at him, though I was so embarrassed I never wanted to meet his eyes again. What must he think of me now? With just a few kisses and touches he had reduced me to a whimpering pile of hormones. “Gwendolyn,” he said again. “You should know that it was perfect—for me, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I muttered, still having trouble meeting his eyes. “You didn’t, uh, get satisfaction either. Did you?”
“No, but that is not important,” he said softly. “What was perfect was the way you trusted me. The way you put yourself in my hands and allowed me to give you pleasure. You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you to do that.”
“Yeah? Well don’t get too used to it,” I snapped. “And anyway, I only did it because I had no choice. How else was I supposed to get to the next circle?”
“How else, indeed.” The warmth went out of Laish’s eyes and he dropped my chin abruptly and stepped back. “Come, then—let us board the ferry and move on.”
Abruptly, I felt sorry for my outburst. “Laish—” I began, but he appeared not to hear.
“Come.” He beckoned to me but made no more attempt to take my hand. “Charon is waiting for us and he will not tarry forever.”
“Fine.” I stepped aboard the ferry feeling miserable. What was wrong with me, first reacting so strongly to Laish’s touch and then snapping his head off like that? And what about the feeling I’d had when he was touching me? The sensation that I was finally going to reach that elusive peak that had been denied me all my life? If he’d gone on a little longer, would it finally have happened?
Stop it, I told myself uneasily. Stop thinking like that. You ought to be more concerned about how you reacted than how you felt. Not to mention—what are you going to have to do in order to pass into the next circle of Hell?
I had no idea but I was afraid I was going to find out.
Chapter Eleven
Laish
After we paid the Sin Tax, Gwendolyn had no further trouble in climbing aboard the infernal ferry. For my part, I decided to give her some room. I stood beside Charon while she gravitated to the far end where Kurex was standing patiently, waiting for the ride to be over.
I watched as she stood close to the big horse, stroking his neck and taking comfort from the gentle way he nudged her with his nose and nickered softly. She wouldn’t look at me at all, preferring instead to stare into the distance. If she was trying to make out the other shore, she was out of luck—the Styx is always shrouded in mist. The great city of Baator and its outlying areas would not be visible until we landed and traveled a little distance to the Iron Spike.
Though I tried to control my frustration, I couldn’t quell it completely. Why was she so stubborn, so unwilling to accept any gesture of affection from me? I wasn’t thinking about the way she had responded to my hands on her body—she had given herself freely then, gasping and trembling in my arms until I longed to do much more than simply run my hands over her lush flesh. I loved the deliciously wanton way my little witch gave in to her emotions, to the pleasure of my hands on her curves. That part of our encounter had been delightful.
It was afterwards, when I had bared a little piece of my heart (if a demonic creature like myself can be said to have a heart) which bothered me. Or rather—her reaction to me, bothered me. Why was she so quick to turn away? So defensive and unwilling to let me in, even a little? I understood that she feared to lose part of her powers but it seemed that there must be something else, some other reason she resisted feeling anything for me. Would I ever find out what that was?
As I mused, the flat bottom of the ferry at last ground to a halt against the pebbles of the far side of the river. Gwendolyn and I had made the passage safely—a passage few living mortals had made. Even fewer had come back, but I promised myself that Gwendolyn would be one of them. No matter what I had to do to keep her safe, I would protect her until the end of this journey we were taking together.
“Well, I guess we should go.” Gwendolyn looked at me uneasily, as though she was apprehensive that I might accuse her in some way or perhaps try to touch her again. On that score, she need not have worried. I was determined to leave her strictly alone until it was necessary to pay the Sin Tax again.
“Yes.” I reached for Kurex’s reins and led the huge steed onto dry land. He snorted and stamped once, as though pleased to be on solid footing again. Gwendolyn followed quietly, throwing one last uneasy glance over her shoulder at Charon. The ferryman waited silently until we were all ashore and then pushed off, gliding across the tarry waters again to meet his next customer.
“Well, that was…creepy.” Gwendolyn shivered.
“Mmm.” I nodded neutrally.
“Look,” she began. “About what I said to you—”
“You need not apologize or explain,” I said. “I understand that you’re wary of me—you don’t trust me or my intentions.”
“It’s not that exactly,” she objected. “It’s just…well…”
“What?” I turned to face her and saw that her creamy café au lait cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “Why, mon ange, you’re blushing.” I reached up to stroke her cheek but she flinched away. “What is it?” I asked again.
“I just don’t understand why I can’t control myself better with you,” she burst out. “I mean when you touched me I just…I couldn’t help myself. And I don’t like that—I don’t like feeling like I might not be able to…to stop. I mean, what happens when we have to pay the Sin Tax again, for the next circle. What happens when—”
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“Gwendolyn…Gwendolyn.” I dropped Kurex’s bridle and took her by the shoulders. “If you’re afraid that you won’t be able to stop yourself from going too far, don’t worry.”
“Of course I worry!” Her eyes were wide. “I don’t want to lose half my power. I don’t want to end up like—” She stopped abruptly, biting her lip. “I don’t want to end up stuck in the middle of Hell without enough power to help myself,” she finished.
“You won’t,” I said gently. “I won’t let you. Would it make you feel better if I told you I wouldn’t let you go so far—not until the very end and not unless it is absolutely necessary?”
She looked at me suspiciously. “You’re saying you’ll stop? That you won’t take my virginity?”
“Not unless there is no other way to pass through to the seventh circle and enter the Abyss,” I said.
Gwendolyn shook her head. “But why would you do that? Why would you promise that? I thought that was the main thing you wanted from me—the only thing you wanted. Why else would you agree to come on the quest with me and help me close the door I opened?”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Did it never occur to you that I agreed to help you simply to get closer to you? Because I crave the pleasure of your company?”
“No,” she said flatly. “It didn’t.”
It was yet another indication of the way she didn’t trust me. Inwardly, I sighed.
“Well, it should have,” I said lightly. “Just because I am a demon of lust does not mean that bedding you is my sole intention.”
“Wait a minute.” She held up a hand to stop me. “You’re a demon of lust? That’s your thing?”
“It is my area of expertise.” I shrugged. “What of it?”
“Well, I mean, that explains everything.” She sounded relieved. “I mean if lust is what you do, no wonder I lose control when you touch me. No wonder I can’t help myself.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have even the slightest bit of emotion for me,” I murmured. “Or the fact that we belong together—that you fit so well in my arms it is as though your body was made for my touch.”