The devil's pawn.

Two.

POV: JAMES-MATTEW.

JMS was buzzing as usual. From the deafening sound of music blasting through the speakers, to every sinful body grinding to the bass and clicking sounds of glasses. This club had always been my hunting ground.

From the mezzanine above, I had the perfect view of every single thing that transpired in this building, thanks to my binoculars. From the ladies hooking up with lust-driven men to couples making out in corners, a blonde puking on himself, I burrowed my eyes into the crowd, searching for tonight's special prey–to warm my bed.

Then I saw her….

Her face bore the weight of a pain she couldn't talk about and her eyes were desperate for some answers. She gripped the small purse tucked under her arm while searching for her place in the busy crowd.

“Sir, it seems like you found someone?” Marcus muttered over my shoulders. He was my right-hand man.

“Here,” I handed the binoculars to him. “That girl….. the one with messy black hair.”

“That’s a new face, Sir.” He chipped in.

“Interesting, It's been a while since I had a fresh meal. Bring her to me – nice and clean.”

“Okay Sir.” He replied, bowing curtly as I walked away.

I had to get ready for my meal.

To me, s*x was never about love. It was control. Possession. Claiming what others couldn't have and a fantastic way for getting rid of the day’s stress.

It had never been a hard nut for me to c***k, because women always threw themselves at me and fought through teeth and nail, so as to end up in my bed. Everyone wanted a taste of the dreaded mafia, James-Mattew Sylvester and I gave them what they wanted– only in a twisted way.

***********

The basement suite.

************

The door to my private suite opened slightly and she walked in, still carrying the pain in her eyes like a second skin. She looked effortlessly pretty in her blue basic top and ripped black jeans and I couldn't wait to wipe that pink gloss off her lips.

“Welcome to the devil's playground, darling.” I hissed and she froze, my poise sending a direct message to her– he was untouchable.

I jumped down from the gigantic bed and strode towards her with an urgency I had never felt before. The smell of her perfume caused a surge of heat flow through my veins.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded as she took a few steps back, until her back hit the cold tiled wall.

“Stop right there!” she yelled, pulling out a pen knife from her hip pocket. “I may be weak….and vulnerable right now….but a stab from me...will end…your…life.” She stuttered.

Bold, defiant and clumsy.

Marcus, you are really damned.

“Interesting…” I smirked as I leaned in on her, gripping her arm. “Why don't you give it a try, Carmen?” I stressed out her name that tasted like honey at the tip of my tongue, offering my neck to her. The knife dropped from her slender fingers.

“How do you..”

“Your name? It's very special I must say.”

“Okay! Thank you for the compliment.” She swallowed, “Now, why don't we talk things out first? Mmm?” She pleaded softly, squinting her eyes.

“We have nothing to discuss.” I shot out in defiance to her plea, grabbed her hands and placed them above her head, slipping my left hand under her tiny waist. My stud diamond earrings reflected in her pupils as I towered over her with my insane height,

“What's your name pet?” My voice was husky yet calm.

“pet?...” she stuttered, blinking her lashes furiously, “I'm not a pet.”

“You look too cute not to be one.” I whispered, grazing my lips on her neck as she stifled a moan.

“What do you want from me?” she weaseled,

“Just a midnight meal.” I cooed.

I gently grazed her lower lip with the tip of my index finger and her body shuddered under my touch, sending a rush of adrenaline through my blood. She was so soft –everything about her– from her composure to the way her body reacted under touch. It only made my desires rile up until I could no longer endure it.

“Why don't we get down to business? Because tonight, you belong to me Carmen.” I groaned and crashed my lips on hers. They were soft, juicy and tasted like the mocktail she had, a while ago.

She bore into my skin with her fingertips, trying to push me off and reciprocating my kiss at the same time.

“Wait!” she moaned softly. Her pleas however fell on deaf ears as I gripped her waist tighter, pressing her against my cold unyielding chest and wildly savouring her lips. I just couldn't get enough of that mocktail and vanilla-flavoured gloss. My insides churned with desire and my brain became fuzzy.

Filled with want and fury, I lifted her up and crashed her onto the vanity table, ripping her basic top.

“What do you think you are doing?” She muffled but when she saw I wasn't giving in, bit my lips hard, as the metallic taste of blood hit my taste buds. I stopped abruptly, raising a curious brow at her.

“I'm not pushing you away, trust me. But this feels….. wrong.” She expressed, a confused look plastered on her pretty face and for the first time in forever, my heart wanted to reach out to someone. This strange girl was doing weird things to me.

I gently raised her chin and looked deeply into her eyes, trying to search for the words she couldn't speak. Her next action however took me by surprise.

“You know what, screw this!” She cursed as she pulled my neck and took my lips in hers. Her kiss was slow, she marinated her taste properly in mine, gently caressing my neck and bare back.

This time, the kiss wasn't just wild, it was laced with a sad feeling I couldn't place my fingers on. Her mouth didn't speak but her gestures made me want to punish whomever or whatever that put her in that dilemma but, I can't pry into her private life.

I kissed her back passionately as our tongues went in sync, like they were meant for each other. I was not a fan of kisses but this felt really new and exciting.

Her hands slowly moved from my bare back to my abdomen, impatient, clumsy, tugging at my belt. The metallic clink of the buckle filled the silence between our breaths. She was shaking but determined, yanking until the leather let loose.

By the time she wriggled out of her pants, I knew this wasn't lust as usual, it was punishment. She was trying to drown the anger in her with pleasure.

My hands slid lower and instead of resistance, she arched her body under her touch, as if daring me to take what she rarely offered, on a platter of gold. I broke through the last barrier of clothing and her fluids instantly lubricated my index and middle finger.

“Damn!!” I muttered under my breath, taking that as an approval from her.

Not like I needed one though.

But as I inched closer, her body jerked violently and she let out a gasp–not of pleasure– of pain.

I froze.

Her lashes flustered and her face twisted in pain, then it hit me.

“F*ck!” I hissed loudly, pulling back. “You are a virgin?” I shot out, desperately hoping for a counter but her silence gave her away.

I don't do virgins. They were clingy, messy, inexperienced and dangerous. I wanted control, not complications. Yet I had one here, trembling under me, shaky breaths and tears swelling in her blue eyes. She parted her lips to speak but her body gave out before her as she slumped against me, unconscious.

“s**t!” I muttered and caught her immediately before she could hit the floor. My pulse rumbled in my eardrums and my blood burned.

However, as I adjusted her limp body against my arms, the ink smeared on her thigh peeked through–an upside down cross with a snake hanging on it.

My eyes narrowed.

The devils.