His To Use: Seduced By The Incubus

His To Own

4

Zyrella

I stood under the shower, hot water beating on my skin, but it didn’t wash away the shame twisting in my chest. I kept replaying last night, every word, every look. I told him I’d rather die with this scar than let him use me. I meant it when I said it.

But the second I got home… I texted him. "I’ll do it."

I felt so foolish. I kept telling myself it was only for my face. That’s the only reason. I can’t keep living like this, walking around with scabs that burn and itch and make people stare like I’m cursed. Just two months, that’s all I agreed. Two months, and then I’m free. After that, Selvik Voss won’t own me anymore.

And maybe I can use those two months for something else. To dig into him, into his mysterious life. He appeared from nowhere, no past, no family, yet suddenly he’s everywhere... business, parties, headlines. If I uncover the truth about him, that will be the biggest story of my career.

The thought gave me strength. At least that’s what I told myself.

When I stepped out of the shower, I pulled on a simple outfit. A white flare trouser, a blue tank top that hugged my body but not too tight. My face mask, my sunglasses... I never forgot those anymore. They had become my shield, my disguise, the only way I could walk outside without crumbling.

A black car was waiting, he had sent a driver.

The ride was silent, but my heart wasn’t. It beat hard against my ribs, each thump reminding me what I was walking into.

When we pulled up, I stared at his penthouse from the outside... it stretched tall into the afternoon, glass and steel, arrogant and untouchable like the man himself.

Inside, it was worse. The atmosphere was dark and warm, the kind of rich that pressed on your skin. Every corner whispered wealth, power, secrets.

And then I saw Selvik.

He was shirtless, only wearing black joggers, his upper body bare with muscle like it was sculpted by hands that knew exactly what they were doing.

And across his chest, crawling up his shoulder, was a tattoo unlike anything I’d seen before. Strange, dark symbols, curling like flames. It didn’t look normal, but it looked alive.

My throat went dry, and my eyes lingered before I could stop myself.

He caught me. Of course, he did. His lips curved mockingly. “You can drool if you want. You’ll get more of my body for two months anyway.”

Heat flushed up my neck. I gulped hard and snapped my gaze away, realizing how shameless I must have looked. He was a monster, an arrogant, insane monster. And yet... why was my body reacting like this?

I forced myself to stand tall. “I’m here now. I did what you asked. So clean the scabs on my face.”

He didn’t move. He just stared at me, his eyes cold. Slowly, he stepped closer, closing the distance between us until the air felt too tight, like he was stealing all the oxygen.

“Don’t rush, Zyrella,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. “You’ll get what you want.”

I swallowed, my hands curling into fists at my side. “Then do it.”

His smirk widened. He leaned in, close enough for me to feel the heat of his skin.

“I will cleanse the marks,” he said softly, “after I’ve taken what I’m owed.”

I could swear something was moving inside me, not just thoughts but a pull, a voice, a pressure that wasn’t mine. It whispered, nudged, almost like it wanted to control me.

The feeling got stronger whenever I looked at him. My chest tightened, my fingers twitched, my body wanted to move without my permission.

I snapped at him, my voice louder than I meant. “Are you messing with my head too? You already toy with my face, now you’re inside my mind?”

Selvik scoffed, like I had asked the dumbest question. “That’s not a trick, little one. That’s just how I am. It's my nature.”

His nature? I frowned hard. “What does that even mean? You’re human, aren’t you? So how the hell do you do this?”

He didn’t answer. He never gave straight answers. He just watched me, and the weight of his stare made the atmosphere thick.

I bit my lip and pushed again, anger and mixed with my confusion. “Then explain this. Explain how you gave me this hideous look. Explain why every time I’m near you, I feel… something. Like I can’t help myself, like I’m being forced to obey you.

Just last night, I swore I wouldn’t accept your offer. I meant it. I went home full of anger. But the moment I stepped inside my apartment, I picked up my phone and texted you yes. Tell me why.”

He leaned back, then he sat down in a wide chair, his legs spreading, and his body sinking into a relaxed sprawl. Power dripped from the gesture alone. He didn’t need to say a word for me to know what he thought: I own you already.

His voice came calm. “The earlier you succumb to me, the earlier your scars will vanish. You want your pretty face back? Then stop pretending you can fight me.”

My throat went dry. He was mocking me, daring me, and somehow I hated him more for being right. Because deep down, I did feel something... this pull, this compulsion that terrified me as much as it made my heart pound.

Then his eyes sharpened, burning straight into me. His mouth curved in a dark, cruel smile. “Now… show me how far your pride can bend. Come closer, kneel and suck my hard c**k. Let me see how good you are at obedience.”

My whole body reacted... heat rushed to my face, my chest rose and fell too fast, my legs refused to move but also ached to.

“No…” I whispered, but my voice shook. My fists balled at my sides, and my nails digging into my palms.

He didn’t move. He just watched, his eyes gleaming like he had all the time in the world. “You’ll come,” he said softly, his tone taunting. “It’s only a matter of when.”

And damn me... I hated that a part of me already believed him.