Hell's Belle - Eve Newton Page 0,14
is way too enticing when he is being all naked and an asshole.
“Did my father give you something before he...uhm...went away?” I ask carefully.
Elijah’s eyebrow shoots up. “Went away?” he scoffs. “Since when are you so coy about death?”
Since he’s not dead.
“I’m not,” I growl. I feel that my rep might’ve just taken a serious hit. I will have to make sure that when I dish out the Daily Dealings in an hour that I'm vicious and unfeeling. Well, more so than usual.
“I figure any bitch who will take down her father to gain power is one worth watching,” he drawls, his eyes searching mine in a really unnerving way.
“Did he leave something with you?” I grit out.
“No,” he says, breaking eye contact and turning from me to busy himself with the nearest thing to hand, which is a broom.
I stifle my laugh as he looks so comical sweeping the floor, like a giant with a matchstick.
“I’ll come and see you later,” he says after a few sweeps. “I want to see our ruthless leader in action.”
“Will it get you off?” I ask salaciously.
He stops sweeping for a moment and looks up. “Do you want it to?”
I hold his simmering gaze for a few seconds and then look away. “I will search this place from top to bottom, but it’ll be easier if you just tell me.”
“No,” he states. “He didn’t give me anything.”
“Then you give me no choice but to look myself,” I say and march into the back, his private quarters.
“The only reason a bitch goes back there is to cream all over my dick. Is that what you want, Queenie?”
I clench my fists, but don’t turn around. “When you picture this dick creaming, am I on top?” I ask and keep walking.
“Oh, no,” he says following me, and in three giant strides has caught up with me. “You’ll be underneath me, writhing around as I impale you.”
“I didn’t mark you as a male that enjoys missionary style,” I say with an evil smile at the mild insult.
His eyes hood dangerously, and he growls. “I didn’t say anything about missionary,” he grits out.
“It was implied,” I drawl and turn to face him. “I’m always on top,” I add, even though it’s not true. Drescal got me good and proper flat on my back earlier.
“Not with me,” he says, full of arrogance, as if he actually believes it.
It infuriates me. I am his fucking Queen. He should be on his knees in front of me begging to be at my service, not making sexual comments to me, that may – or may not – be affecting me.
I march up to his desk, situated in the corner of the open space behind the wall. I start to open drawers and poke through them, which angers him.
“I told you, your father didn’t give me anything,” he bites out.
“I don’t believe you,” I mutter, but all I come up with is an empty desk, which makes me suspicious. Why have a desk in the first place? I slam the drawers shut with a huff.
“Told you,” he says, again with arrogance.
“You are such an arrogant asshole,” I seethe.
“Takes one to know one, darlin’” he replies, and I lose it.
I mean really lose it. I lose it in the way that I’ve been trying not to and is the whole fucking reason that Gregory is here supposedly helping me.
I sprout wings of flame on my back, but far bigger than anything anyone has seen for a while, and they didn’t live to tell about it. I feel the heat in my eyes as my pupils turn to flame that lick out of my sockets and singe my eyebrows. Hellfire sparks on my fingertips and when I clench my hands to try to stop the rage, I end up with two flaming hot fists. I start to breathe heavily as the stench of ash and brimstone, coming from my fire, hits my nose.
I get the satisfaction of seeing Elijah gulp and drop to his knees, head bowed.
“That’s more like it,” I snarl at him in a fear-inducing Demonic voice that resounds around the kennels. It makes the hounds start to yap and whimper.
A spiked tail has torn through my pants and is swishing around me. The horns on my head are making it ache. My teeth are sharp rows of fangs and my tongue is forked.
The She-Devil has come out to play.
The rage inside me swirls up to an even greater height, making my whole