Damned if I do | Damned trilogy #1

Chapter Fifteen: Drake

I could totally do this. I could pull it off. It was actually starting to feel like I could be with Wren and not, you know, be with Wren. In the Biblical sense.

Not having sex wasn't even that hard. There were plenty of ways to satisfy all urges without going that final step. All going to plan, I could see this thing out until the end days perfectly sated and keeping my wife happy.

We spent the next two weeks investigating everything but the homerun. I made sure I knew every inch of her. Intimately. Every curve. Every mountain. Every valley. I paid them all the utmost attention, nothing short of what they deserved. And she'd amazed me how well she'd repaid the favour. No one had known my body better. None had been able to elicit that sort of white-hot response in me. Not even the first succubus to walk creation had been able to please me so well. And she'd tried. Very hard.

When I wasn't working, Wren and I were together. Her eyes lit with that mischievous desire as soon as she saw me. It was something I felt deep in my soul and my cock.

On the occasions we were stuck with my father, or the boys thought they had things to do in our room – I felt bad kicking Kyle out constantly – she showed me how to actually enjoy Samba Sunday. I began not hating Music Mondays. I fought harder in Tussle Tuesdays. I kept her in bed during Waterboarding Wednesdays. I let my father dress me up for Tiki Thursdays. I did my best to protect her from the worst of Dad's Faustian Fridays. And I actually went to Shakespeare Saturdays to watch the devilbums acting their little hearts out, then getting annoyed with each other and just start fighting.

Even when there were witnesses, I found myself holding her hand, holding her close. We snuck kisses even when it was totally obvious. I'd thrown her against a wall a couple of times in the tunnels and almost forgotten I was in a room full of hellspawn watching my every move. I wasn't a stranger to sexual exploits with viewers, but Wren was all mine and I wasn't sharing any part of her.

When we were alone, we couldn't get enough of each other. As the son of the Lord of Hell, my sexual appetite was known to be pretty rampant. I was the literal definition of insatiable. But Wren had no problem keeping up with me. Every time I thought I'd exhausted her interest in me, she went to extraordinary lengths to prove me wrong. And it was only polite to reciprocate. I'd actually never had sex that frequently before her, and we hadn't even got that far.

My existence had never felt so right. Perfect wasn't something I'd ever associated with my reality, but it was a word I was fucking close to using.

Until it all came crashing down around me.

I was doing my usual wander around Hell, torturing some souls, checking on the rest, when my route took me past Cerberus' domain. It had been a while since I'd seen the dog who – let's be honest – was the most responsible for me kissing Wren in the first place. It gave me a strange sense of sentimentality towards him. So, I thought I'd go and check on him.

I didn't expect to find practically my whole family there.

Dad had his fiddle out, gallivanting around. Wren was dancing around Cerberus, holding Kyle's hands while his hooves rested on her feet. They were both smiling and laughing while Larry and the quartet sang for them all. Truman was tapping his hoof over by the wall. Ignacio was jerking around in his version of dancing. Even Esther was there and watching everything carefully.

But I couldn't take my eyes off Wren for long. She looked so carefree and relaxed. She looked like she belonged, and that she wanted to belong. It gave me this buoyant feeling in my chest I couldn't remember feeling before.

That was when it happened.

I laughed.

It was like a split-second chuckle. If that.