Darkness and Devotion - A Tom Riddle Story

The Devil's Lair

"Hello, darling." His voice curled around her face, whispers tucking themselves in the smallest of crevices. His breath was warm but his hands were cold where they touched themselves on her jaw.

"Tom," she whispered as she recognized his cool tone.

"Little Dove," he murmured. "Did you miss me?" He brought his hands lower and swirled his long fingers on her collarbone. She gasped, though whether it was at the chill or the feeling of his touches penetrating something deep inside her, she didn't know. All she could focus on was the smell of musk and the sound of his deep voice intoxicating her. Just like with the voice, it entranced her every being.

Coherent thoughts weren't coming to her mind so Evelyn could only gasp out, "Y-yes," in between the gentle strokes of his fingers. It was dark in the room but somehow she knew he had a wicked smile.

Silence. Tom was studying her, still brushing his hand over her collarbone. They protruded slightly, a result of her skinny frame that her father had passed down to her. She didn't have many curves, just harsh lines like that. But the way Tom touched her made her feel almost beautiful. Like her body was a piano he used to play a haunting melody when no one had ever dared to try before.

Then, Evelyn felt the gentle presence in her mind. It was cold and dark and yet it felt right. Just... just like Tom. She felt the fingers of the presence gripping her. "W-what are you doing to me?" she stuttered breathlessly. Because despite the lack of control, it felt incredible to lose herself in him. His scent. His touch. His power.

Evelyn realized that losing control to a man like Tom wouldn't be so bad. She welcomed the presence into her mind, allowing it to explore the maze of her thoughts and memories.

"You're mine, darling," Tom said softly but not gently. His voice was firm and hard, which she didn't quite understand. She had never given him a reason to think she belonged to anyone else. From the moment she saw him in the corridor, she had been his. He had consumed her every thought, her every desire. She had always been completely and utterly his.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'm yours."

A voice sounded from next to hers, a quiet whisper that held a promise within. His breath curled around her when he spoke. It brought shivers to her spine and goosebumps to her barely covered arms. "You belong to me, Evelyn Black."

She gulped, then nodded. She felt as if she was in a trance. Perhaps she was. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing but Tom.

"You will listen to my every command," he muttered, gripping her chin again with a harsh force unlike his gentle touches earlier. "You are mine. You will only allow my touch. You will only speak with me and my people. You will only do my bidding. Your every thought, every word, every touch, every gaze, every fiber of your silly being belongs to me. Your soul is mine, Little Dove, from this moment on. Do you understand?"

Perhaps there was a part of her that should have been afraid. Perhaps there was a part of her that should have tried to escape from the claws of his control. Perhaps there was a part of her that knew she shouldn't give herself to anyone mind, body, and soul. But there was also a part of her that felt the care behind his words, that was desperate to be held as he was holding her, that knew, despite his harshness, he treated her with more respect and adoration than anyone ever had. So perhaps she shouldn't give herself to this man but she had lost so much of herself over the years that she was happy to find a home with a man like him. A man who already made her feel safe, cared for, and appreciated when she had a life of everything but.

"I-I..."

He gripped her chin harder. "I said: do you understand?"

She practically moaned at the feeling of pain caused by his cold hands. Maybe there's something wrong with me, she thought. Hearing a voice, feeling a presence controlling her mind, giving herself up to a man who had a darkness in him that couldn't be contained. Yes, something was definitely wrong with her but if being wrong meant that she could be like this with Tom Riddle, she didn't want to be right.