Chapter Twelve- Under The Table Sins Part six

Just acknowledging that his hand was wedged between my bare thighs and the other three people at the table had not the slightest idea what was taking place under the table, was exciting

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I left my room, made a dart for the kitchen, sauntered down the empty halls with his starter secured in my hands and made it to the dinning room.

I took a deep breath preparatory to stepping inside the room currently sheltering the Devil and the first pair of eyes to welcome me were my mothers. The table was an unnecessary twenty sitter, unnecessary seeing as we rarely, and I mean rarely host any guests and dine them. My mother, and my two younger sisters Arsica and Avine were sitted on the right and the Devil, as usual was alone and on the left. No one could join him on his side, because no one matches his preponderance. Every single being in the world is beneath him. I cracked a small smile when I noticed my plate of food facing an empty chair next to Arsica's. I will be sitting across him, there is no way he can get to me there.

I featly presented the meal to him, laid it on the table gently while being successful in avoiding his eyes. I quickly discovered that I had not taken any cutlery with me and whispered an apology to him, before dashing to the kitchen. I picked the appropriate cutlery from his set and when I returned to the dining room- horror awaited me!

No!

Did he read my mind or something?!

Much to my horror and to the undoing of my plans, I stepped inside to find my food had been removed from the safe side and were repositioned by the chair right next to the Devil's. I placed the cutlery where it should be and eyed my food with dense incredulity. I was in disbelief, frozen by shock. No, I don't want to sit next to him! My body can't handle his presence and nearness!

"Please join us, rabella." (Sweetheart/ honey/ precious gem). My mother's mellifluous voice and her urging eyes were like the call of perdition. I was extremely reluctant, but in a position to do nothing else but what is asked of me, I uneasily walked past the Devil and sat next to him. The distance between our chairs came to notice, it was undeniably smaller than the one between my mother's and Avine's chair. The chair next to mine was in line with the one next to Arsica's, the arrangement was now messed up with mine because it had been shifted closer.

I was not going to look at him, his scent was already making his presence even heavier, I did not want to find myself entranced by his eyes. I cannot describe the way he smells, it is not artificial, he does not wear cologne, (I would know because I have never bought him any) but his scent is so strongly captivating, so magnetic, and it internally disturbs me with how vehemently it draws me in.

I kept my eyes downcast and on my plate, I had absolutely no appetite because of the tango on going in my stomach, but I ate and distracted myself with cutting into and forking my food. The eerie, uncomfortable silence did get to me at some point. No one was saying anything, and as for my half sisters, they have never uttered a single word to me since I have known them. I do not even remember what their voices sound like, they only ever glare at me or refuse to acknowledge me at all. I in fact used to think that Arsica and Avine are mute, until one day I overheard them talking to my mother. Trust me they are uncanny looking girls with striking features, and Arsica has matured very well for an eleven year old, she has the figure of an eighteen year old and you can tell that she shares blood with the Devil because she has dead grey eyes and the most diabolical smile.

With nothing being said, my mind was compelled to wander away and I found myself thinking about things I should not think about.

It was him, his scent, it was doing something to me.

My throat was yet again dry, and my thirst could not be quenched despite me having doused my throat with water multiple times. My stomach was tying in knots and I was beginning to feel feeble, to feel like my core had a fever and I was burning up inside.

I knew what my body was doing, this was self- sabotage I was not going to allow.

As I pondered over the mystery of my internal heat and this weird feeling harassing me, a cold palm laid flatly on my exposed thigh and instantly detracted my attention from musing.

My eyes immediately shot down and surely enough, daddy had his hand on my thigh and I forgot how to breathe. I quickly tore my eyes away from my thigh before mom asked any questions and I stabbed them into the side of my father's face, but he carried on as if everything was normal, as though he did not know what he was doing.

I knew what was to follow, what was to transpire under this table.

The lines of my favourite novel played in my head, word by word and I could taste the thrill Tarlia felt when Oliviero slipped his hand under the table and fingered her while they had dinner with his business associates. He worked his fingers with skill, discretely enough not to call for attention and he played with her femininity like an instrument and then ended the pleasure for her when she was about to climb over the crest of the wave of unbridled pleasure and cum. Because she had been a bad girl and daddy needed to punish her.

The thought had me flustered and as if my thoughts were not tormenting enough; there was motion. His cold hand slipped up my warm flesh slowly, his fingers brushing along my inner thigh, leaving a scorching trail of flames in their wake. My entire body tensed up and it took every bit of strength in me not to jolt up as his hand made it under my silk nightgown.

I was suddenly very aware that mom had had her eyes pinned on me for too long and I reacted reflexively. I squeezed my thighs together, but could not bring myself to lower my hand under the table and remove his from between my thighs. My mother, his wife was right across us- this was shamelessness at its finest. His hand was too close to my pulsing warmth, but this man is my superior, I have utmost respect for him. I was very thankful when he made no effort to proceed with what he had in mind, because I was beginning to get reeled in, I was beginning to feel emotions that I should not feel for the Devil.

This has been the most eventful night of my life and I wanted it to come to an end already before I do something I will live to regret. The Devil is very masterful in his craft, he must know just how effective persistence is when it comes to me. Yet again I could feel my walls relaxing and my gut tightening, I was making myself even more aroused by just thinking about this under the table sin. Just acknowledging that his hand was wedged between my bare thighs and the other three people at the table had not the slightest idea what was taking place under the table, was exciting. I felt awful about it.

Just look at him.

Completely unfazed. He eats his dinner at ease while my heart is racing and I can barely breathe. A lump was clogging my throat, I was being strangled by anxiousness that I could only remedy by chugging down my drink.

I reached for the glass for the second time and flinched when I heard a feral growl only a beast like my father can produce. My head snapped to my side and I found him to be staring ahead, yet his fingers began to curve into my thigh and apply gripping pressure to it. Gulping uneasily, I ignored the sensations on my thigh and lifted the glass up and brought it to my lips. The rim of the glass had barely touched my lips when a voice sounded in my head, a deep, frighteningly attractive, haunting voice belonging to the Devil.

"I can smell your arousal, I know that you want me, Marosa, you have always been in denial about your destiny."

Before my bewilderment could even simmer and I could question how he was able to communicate with me through my mind; I had gasped loudly, jerked up and spilled all of my drink on me.

"Rabella, are you okay?" My concerned mother asked while Arsica and Avine just bored their eyes into me.

I must be going insane.

Gaping, I looked at the Devil again and he was still gazing ahead.

"I- I am fine mom…" my wavering speech wasn't to convince. "I just...I just…"

My mind could not conceive a plausible lie and I was still visibly shaken. I was soaked and very confused, I needed to leave, but that meant having to address the lord of the mansion and ask for his permission.

"Daddy… may I be excused?" I asked quietly, sounding more docile and bashful than I would have liked.

His grip on my thigh tightened and I nearly gasped, but still he did not face me. I could sense it, he was enjoying tantalizing and taunting me, he was reveling in satisfaction seeing me this breathless and confused about my feelings because of him.

"State your reason." He demanded, the deep vibrations of his voice electrifying. He had a stupefying effect on me like he has on anyone who is unfortunate enough to find themselves in his presence, so for a moment I could not formulate any words.

"I need to change out of my soaked wear, daddy." I prayed for him to release me and my prayers were answered when he pulled out his hand.

"You are excused." He addressed me sternly, and I felt my bones shift from the intensity of his voice. As I stood up, he finally turned to me and faced me with a smirk and his eyes spoke to me.

"You cannot run away from the inevitable." That is what they told me.

I briskly strutted out of the dinning room and headed for my bathroom. I needed a cold shower.

I stripped out of my nightgown and stepped under the pour of warm water. As the fall cascaded down my back, soothed my nerves and nourished my skin, I immersed myself in my thoughts. Frustrating, dooming thoughts, because I still could not get him out of my mind.

I began to fantasize, as much as I am not proud, that is the best, most honest way to put it. My body was still inflamed, was still craving more of that fire it had tasted. I had always thought that I would never ever in my existence think of my step- father sexually, despite how blazing hot he is, despite how attractive his power sometimes is, despite the inimitable, raw sex appeal he possesses- but here I am now, fantasizing about him in the shower, here I am imagining vividly how things would have went had I not resisted.

My eyes closed, I could almost feel his fingers caressing my inner thighs, setting my skin on fire, I could almost feel my femininity spew juices and throb with heat as his long fingers pull my panties aside, run up my slit and part my puffy lips, I could almost feel that current of electricity ripple through me when his finger first comes in contact with my swollen clit, I could almost feel that sizzling, enrapturing wave of pleasure numb my mind as his rough fingers dance on my sensitive bud while another or two stretches my barricaded opening. I could almost hear him softly chant my name as I moan breathlessly and beg for more.

Marosa."

"Marosa."

"Marosa." He calls me over and over again.

"This is your fate, you are mine."

"Only I will touch you this way."

Light flashed before my closed eyes, I was awakened by reality. I blinked repeatedly, my hand between my thighs, my fingers pressing into my wetness. Trembling, I quickly tore my hand away and gazed at it with shame.

Something had transported me out of this realm.

I thought I was imagining everything and creating a scene where consequences do not exist in my mind, but nothing was as real as those words. His voice. It sounded so real. In my mind...

I was about to…

Or maybe already was….

What is wrong with me?

I was about to touch myself, finger myself until I release my juices on my hand to the fantasy of him pleasuring me insanely.

"No, Vanessa, no! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I berated myself, only I could save myself from damnation.

You do not want him to touch you that way.

I am a daughter to him.

Nothing but that.

I should never fantasize about him again, there is no destiny.

He is my mother's husband, I will never go there with him, no matter how good his touch burns me.