Thread: A Devil's Game ::: {Ariamella & Prince of Smut}

RE A Devil's Game Ariamella Prince It was amazing how small Macy felt in comparison to Damien's towering height. He looked to be at least a good half-foot taller than her, and that was with the heels acting as leg extensions. Had she been wearing her usual black flats from Payless, he would have easily intimidated her usual 5'3 frame. But where things currently stood, she was still feeling the effects of being dressed to the nines, drunk on the delicious feel of smooth, manicured fingers and soft cashmere rubbing against her back and bare midriff. Cold eyes that hid her fear dropped gaze for a fraction of a second to the stack of papers in his hand, just as a way for her questioning mind to confirm all he was saying. From the distance she was at it was hard to make out any words, but what she saw was enough for the fear in her heart to grow a little bit stronger. Her signature, in its loopy, feminine penmanship, was written across the bottom of the first page. She kept silent even as Damien revealed the crystal from under his shirt, and her eyes trailed the movement of the necklace that pulsed and twinkled with pale blue light. What was that? For someone who criticized her fashion choices, his own strange amulet looked ugly and out of place with his expensive suit. She watched as he brought his thumb and forefinger together over the odd gem, squeezing it like someone might pinch a toddler's cheek. Oh my god-- Macy gasped out, her knees giving out as a sudden migraine hit her, throbbing behind her eyes. She stumbled forward and caught herself on the dark desk in front of her, breathing heavily from the onslaught of pressure that gripped her entire being. Everything from her heart to her muscles seemed to clench together relentlessly and she felt choked, drowning in the very air that kept her alive. Hot, she was too hot! The name Burberry meant nothing to her in that moment, and she almost ripped the button as she hurriedly took it off, letting it fall to ground in a heap of tan fabric. Her small body heaved with every breath she took, but without the coat, her cropped white blouse was in full view along with her flat stomach and toned arms. A peculiar sensation of death loomed over her, a severely odd feeling considering she was alive and healthy. Looking up at the man who toyed with the blue light, she gritted her teeth against the pressure. God, she felt like she was going to vomit. Stop... a weak voice managed to force out. It sounded pitiful and helpless it was the voice of the former Macy. Then in an act of bravery, stupidity and defiance all rolled into one, the girl's arm shot out to grab the necklace from Damien's grasp but barely missed it, collapsing again when the pressure was too much to bear. Fuck, STOP IT. The strange pain was already beginning to recede even as she almost yelled the words, and her figure slumped in the chair beside her as she steadied her breath. Her hazel eyes looked up at Damien in alarm at his words, wide with fear and misty from the sudden realization of the consequences of her actions. She had thought the taking of her soul was just something that wouldn't mean much for her, but she didn't know it meant her death. She didn't know it meant an eternity in hell, and if it was anything like what she experienced at Damien's hand, it was the number one thing she wanted the least. But in classic Macy fashion, her pride still spiked hotly when he called her vain, egotistical and shallow. Was that really what people thought of her? Even though she had been clearly defeated, her pride was not so easily put down. God, she would give anything to slap him hard across the face, to hear the satisfying crack of palm-to-cheek contact. He was a total dick. Well, Mr. Van Horne ... This deal... I can't do this. The haughtiness was gone from her voice after the initial sarcastic emphasis on his name, the rest of her words coming out a soft soprano that carried only a slight edge of attitude to it. Had I known it would've been like this, I wouldn't have signed that book of yours. You're a liar and a cheat, and you don't play fair. Why didn't you tell me in the first place? Why do you have to be such a gaddamn manwhore? Why do you have to be seriously fucked up? Macy couldn't help the anger, hurt and fear that crept into her voice. I don't want to die I'm too good to die. My life is just starting. I want this deal broken now. Rip up the contract and shove it up your-- I mean, dispose of it. I'm not doing this.