You checked your uniform in the mirror one last time before leaving your flat: your tight black shirt bore no wrinkles, your mini white bow tie was straight and unkempt, your pencil skirt was without blemish, and your sky-high leather stilettos showed off your illustrious curves beautifully. You pulled your ponytail to rest on your left shoulder as the cab noisily called you to it; tonight was a big night and you were strictly asked not to drive to the club yourself. On nights where the owner visited, the staff was allowed to order whatever they wished when their shift ended and joined the rest of high society, albeit for just a few hours. Tonight was one of those nights, and everyone was excited. You had not met the owner just yet, but from what your female colleagues had said about the man, you would be lying to yourself if you weren't unbelievably jittery to shake hands with the devil. That's right; the owner was a half-devil, he had an identical twin brother, and he was undeniably handsome. He was very particular about his drinks and who served them, so everyone was asked to be on their best behaviour, just for one night.
You stepped out of the cab at the rear entrance of the club, and the line already went down the block one hour before opening time, taking your time to gaze at the outfits of the females, or rather the lack thereof. Damn, this guy must be one high profile slut; I hope he has some really deep pockets filled with condoms, you thought to yourself. The clothing, however, added to the nervousness and tightened the knot in your stomach, and you found yourself becoming anxious for this man's approval.
Stepping through the staff entrance, you could see everyone touching up their makeup or adding tiny bits and bobs to their already sophisticated attire in the hopes of slithering into this man's bed.
You spoke without thinking. "You're all big bad sluts."
The comment was met with raucous laughter that vibrated along the walls of the room. One of the barmen turned to face you and placed a hand on his hip. "Darling, if you knew the big man, you'd turn into a big bad slut as well. Even now, you're the only one here with dry underwear."
The club was in full swing – people were on the precipice of being tipsy, while the more purposeful ones glanced at the door every couple of minutes for the boss to make his grand entrance. You didn't know what to expect, so you went on with your duties and looked after your patrons. It was only after an hour that you got a light tap on the shoulder from the barman with the apparent wet underwear. "He is two minutes away. We can wait outside at the door and watch him come in."
As it turns out, you were not the only one who heard the good news, and patrons neglected their tables as a collective endeavour to have a first look at the fine owner of the establishment. Everything went silent, and the deep hum of an Audi R8 could be heard from outside. As a ritual, the staff stood along the wall to be the first to see, and they put you on the threshold: it was your first time, so it was imperative that you got a good long glimpse of the eighth, and possibly ninth, wonder of the world. The stylish car pulled up and you could hear the crowd pooling to the door inside the club. The music started again, pumping louder: the driver stepped out and opened the door behind him, and everyone went berserk. The noise of the club inside rivalled the customers still waiting to get in. No one spilled any beans when it came to his appearance, so when you saw a shock of violent silver hair, something inside you twitched – in a good way. The car door on the other side opened as well, and what got out was one inch short of a god: silver hair was plastered against his irrevocably handsome face, crystal, icy, almost translucent blue eyes, thick kissable lips, and a strong jaw. The man floated to the other side of the car where the door still stood open, and you took the opportunity to run your eyes over his delicious frame: broad, muscled shoulders, strong, powerful arms and legs to die for. He stood smiling at the crowd as he waited for his brother to get out of the car. Your mouth went dry when he did: the man was a splitting image of the god standing next to him. The difference in attitude and personality was obvious, but that didn't take away from the fact that you felt an irrefutable need to be fucked, hard, by one of them.
Of course, they were both draped in the most expensive clothes you had ever seen. They dressed exactly the same: a tight black shirt that accentuated the mouth-watering curves their muscled chests made, a pair of black dress pants that sat snuggly lower than it was designed for, and Chuck Tailors graced their feet. The fun one of the duo seemed to have made that choice. A figure length high collared black suede and leather coat finished both their ensembles, and you drew a breath when you caught sight of the milky pale skin of their chests that seeped through the unbuttoned region at the top of their shirts. The only differences present were their hairstyles and two almost-identical necklaces they wore around their necks.
OH. YOUR. GOD.
They started walking toward the club, and all the customers that pooled at the door dissipated into the club to not rouse their suspicion they were being avidly watched. And they knew; they knew all too well – no one could look as good as them and not grab a hundred pair of eyes making the trek to the grocery store. Who were you kidding; they never did their own shopping. One brother took the lead walking and greeting the staff with curt nods. The other fell back and shook hands and joked with them, pausing to ask how their families were. What a stark difference, you think, but you don't have enough time to think anything else before the leading twin nodded in your direction. His eyes lingered a few seconds longer on your face, and your temperature spiked to an inhumane level. You could feel the heat reverberate in your face and between your legs, and the previous 'dry underwear' comment made more sense. You muster a meek smile, and he smiled back.
"You're new." Liquid sex dripped out of the corners of his mouth; his voice was musky, sleepy even, and it was smoother than honey. Your throat ran dry in reply, as every bodily fluid focused itself on messing your panties. He laid a hand out for you to shake and you took it lightly, careful to taint the embodiment of perfection that was your boss. "You got a name?" You take a few deep breaths and finally manage to whisper it, only to have him move closer to hear you over the loud music. Your lips brush the soft contours of his ear as you repeat your name, and you hope he didn't hear a small breath hitch in your throat at the heated contact. "I'm Vergil. The owner. Not mister anything, just Vergil, alright?" He leaned back and resumed his resolute stance, glancing if his brother was close by. He wasn't going to wait in the cold, and the other twin was definitely more social than him. "I'm going inside, Dante," he screamed, and disappeared without your permission.
"Aaaaand? What do you think of the big boss?" It was perfectly possible that your colleague next to you could feel the heat radiating from your body. "Please tell me your panties are identical to ours." You weren't ashamed to nod. It was very seldom that so little did so much to you. He was your boss, yes, but you felt the professionalism slip out from between your thighs. "Be careful though, his brother is just as contagious-"
And as if on cue, the twin named Dante stood before your colleague and gave her a big hug and asked all sorts of questions. As a courtesy you heeded no attention to the conversation, allowing your mind to be consumed by the vigour that was Dante and Vergil. You were still daydreaming when Dante waved a hand in front of your face to bring you back to reality. "Anyone home?" You shook the thoughts from your head as you plastered a broad smile and shook Dante's hand.
"I am so sorry-"
"Don't worry, Vergil has that effect on people." A collective chuckle followed his observation, but he resumed his introduction. "I'm Dante, the god's brother." Another chuckle. "I assume you're new, I have never seen you before." His cheerfulness was inescapable, and he was very different from the mystery that was his brother. After you swapped names, he took your hand and kissed it apologetically. "I'm sorry to have to cut this short, but Vergil will kill me if I don't join him soon. See you inside?" He rushed in the crowd cheered, happy to see the other half of the dynamic duo. The staff all looked at you expectedly. 'I told you so' was etched on their faces.
"I need a fucking drink." Indeed you did.
The group followed you into the club to continue their duties. You sweep it to look for the twins, but turn up empty. One of your colleague turned your head in a vague direction, and surely enough there they were, the two of them huddled into a dark corner shrugging off their coats. Their shirts were rolled up to their elbows, and you nearly lose your footing as you gape at their provocative flesh. You had never seen arms like those in your life, and the notion of having them wrapped around your body made your knees weak. Your mind was in shambles but your body held resolve. That very resolve disintegrated when Vergil caught your stare and held it. He seamlessly slid into the booth next to his brother, ordered a drink, and rested his head on his elbows without breaking eye contact. A quick smirk from the man sent a deadly shiver down your spine, and you turned to the bar to busy yourself with more drink orders.
You jumped in surprise when you felt a small tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Dante bobbing his head to the beat, leaning over the bar to order a drink. After ordering, he gave you a smile that could melt chocolate on sight. You found yourself smiling back, strangely comfortable with someone you had barely met. The barman placed two shot glasses in front of him and grabbed the lavish tequila from the shelf, pouring them to the top. Dante picked up both and handed one to you. "To tonight, good health, and fucking explosive sex!" Your face turns blood red at the sentiment – but what the hell he was right – and the shot burned your stomach on the way down. The conversation that followed was light and pleasant. "Don't look now, but Vergil is totally eyeing you from across the room." You were tempted to look, but the form in front of you more tantalising up close than his so far away. "Let's switch things up, shall we?" Dante started giggling and playing with your hair, pushing it behind your ear and running his fingers along your jaw. You followed his lead and played with the buttons on his shirt, craving the flesh underneath. You nearly withdrew when soft skin mixed flawlessly with his rock hard abs, a shock to the senses as Dante leaned down to kiss you on your strawberry pink cheek. You leaned into it and closed your eyes, savouring his caress and supple, albeit manly, hands. "I'm sure this is more than enough to send him over the edge. He hates it when I cross his boundaries." Dante moved to whisper on your lips, his breath intoxicating. "And no, he didn't say anything. I just know him too well for his own good."
He left with another peck to your cheek, and moved swiftly into the crowd. Your eyes followed him in the hopes of peeking at Vergil: your boss watched the entire thing, and his stare didn't waver even after incident. His eyes were lidded and he squared his jaw as he took a sip on what you believed to be a scotch on the rocks. The eye contact was too much and you looked away, just as the barman behind you got your attention.
"Big boss is calling for you." He placed a tray with a long island ice tea and three vodka and limes in your hands. You gave your colleague a questioning look. "I don't know either. Don't forget to smile though," he said, pinching your cheeks. You looked back to his table and saw Dante slide into the booth as if nothing happened. Vergil turned his head, and your knees buckled as you stole a glimpse of his prominent jawline. This was the first time he had taken his eyes off of you, and his frame proved more intoxicating than any kind of alcohol. You deliberately took your time to get to their table. When you finally arrived, the twins sported different looks. Dante had an 'it seemed to have worked so whatever happens now is up to you' look, while Vergil held an 'I know you did it on purpose and now you're gonna get it' expression. This change in the usually icy twin was very welcome in your books: you had known him for the better part of an hour and your psyche was being pulled toward him and everything he had to offer. You sat the drinks on the table and were alerted to the sound of Vergil's voice. "You are to wait on no one but my brother and I, do you understand?" The dominance in his voice was sexy. His request wasn't up for negotiation. "I will get one of the others to cover your tables. Until we leave, the only face I want to see at the table is yours. Do I make myself clear?"
Vergil's eyes turned a darker shade of blue. This wasn't you being reprimanded – this was certainly something else. The elder twin slithered out of the booth and grabbed a drink off the able, finishing it in one slug, standing possessively behind you, pinning you to the table. "Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?" Vergil rooted you to the spot by whispering domineeringly into your ear.
"Yes, Vergil," was all you could handle. You could feel the power pulsating through his body.
"Good." He kissed you on your neck and playfully got back to his seat. Dante was sniggering, making obscene gestures with his hands and mouth. "Now, I will only be drinking these tonight. You see my glass empty, you bring me another." He picked a second drink from the table and drank that one too. "Keep your eyes on me and only me." He picked up the third and took a sip. "And I'm a thirsty, thirsty boy…" With that, he finished his last drink. He placed all three glasses back on the tray and handed it to you, the muscles in his arms suffering very little strain under the tray's pressure. You took it obediently and, heeding his words, went straight to the bar for a refill. The barman handed you a fresh Jägermeister and you downed it quicker than the previous tequila. He replied by pouring you another. "You look like you need the whole bottle, sweety." You downed the second one and relief numbed your senses. "What did he say?" You repeated his exact words, and he smiled from behind the bar. "That man is fucking brilliant."
"Why would you say that?" you questioned, your rationality crumbling to tiny pieces.
"You see," he started, "by having you tend to him all night, you are obligated to watch him like a hawk. You have to train your eyes to look at him until he leaves. Like we have said, he doesn't talk much, but what that man does with his eyes will transport you to another dimension, probably involving lots of sex." Your head snapped embarrassingly toward him. "What? It's true. It's painful to look at something like that and watch it leave without you. But I'm pretty damn sure he is taking you home-"
"I just met the guy," you interjected, not completely disgusted at the thought.
"So? If that's what stopping you, I will gladly swap places." You shot the barman a cautionary glance. "Thought so. And you just answered your own question." He poured the vodkas and laughed as you drifted to their table.
You watched your boss intently throughout the night, and his eyes never left yours. You even tried to catch him not looking at you, but to no avail. His eyes were transfixed in wonder at your body, and the only movements you caught were him clenching and unclenching his perfect fists. You were sitting at the bar drinking a water when a hand dropped to your shoulder. You turned and Vergil's face was inches from yours. "We're leaving."
You didn't have time to be shocked. "My shift hasn't-"
The barman interjected, "I will tell the boss you weren't feeling too well." He gawked Vergil's way and the boss gave him a sultry wink. He grabbed your hand and led you out the club into his Audi.
"What about Dante?" You looked back into the club and couldn't see Vergil's cute and bubbly brother.
"He will be here until closing time." He rushed you into his car and he sped off in the general direction of the outskirts of the city. The trees blurred past as he broke the sound barrier. "Don't take this the wrong way. I just really despise driving." He held one hand on the steering wheel and the other ghosted between your legs. He used his thumb to gently rub circles on your inner thigh and held it there for the rest of the trip. You absent-mindedly bit your lip at the smooth texture of his hands, shifting to accommodate him more. The driver chuckled, and the sound was lost on your senses.
Vergil was nowhere close to being any form of intoxicated. You tried to remember how many vodkas you delivered to his table, and stopped at the number twenty three when he opened the door to his and Dante's condo. He held the door open and you entered gingerly. The lights turned on, with no signs of switches anywhere on the walls, and Vergil closed the door. "I like blue and he likes red. We compromised on black." True to his word, everything in the home was black, white, or a peculiar grey. It was simple, it was sophisticated, and it suited them both really well.
"You want a drink? I only have white wine. All the hard stuff is Dante's."
You nodded in his direction. Vergil meticulously prepared two glasses of wine as you made yourself at home, choosing an angled spot on the sofa to stare at him tastefully. He glided across the kitchen and made such a menial task look so damn good. He removed his coat and hung it up with care, rolling his sleeves further up his arm. The more you saw his skin, the more you salivated in anticipation. You mentally slapped yourself and giggled: it was too early to be thinking such things, but who would blame you? Vergil stuck his tongue out as he poured the wine, and your mind wandered to how badly you wanted it and where you wanted that tongue to go. Those thoughts were quelled when he moved to sit next to you on the couch, and handed you your glass. "I don't know how tonight will go, that's up to you, but may it be… extraordinarily satisfying." He clinked his glass on yours and took a sip.
Vergil reached to his shirt and popped open a button. Fuck, more skin. You could feel the heat boil in your face slowly descend to your chest, your bra growing heavy, your stomach developing knots, your pelvis constricting its muscles at your sudden arousal. You tried not to concentrate further down: he saw your internal struggle and swapped the wine glass to his other hand, his icy fingers travelling up your skirt to smoothly massage the sensitive flesh on your inner thighs. Your body acted on its own accord, opening wider to give your boss more space. He was touched by the gesture, showing his appreciation by grabbing the hemline of your panties and ripping them in one swipe, watching your undies fall to the floor. "I hope you don't mind." Vergil withdrew his hand and you took the opportunity to down the rest of your wine: you leaned to place the glass on the table in front of you, and Vergil tugged at the zipper on your skirt. In three seconds, the piece of clothing gathered at your ankles. Without thinking, you stepped out of it, walked to the couch and straddled Vergil. The material around his cock tightened at will, and you dropped to its level, rubbing the soft material. Vergil still held onto his wine, but threw his head back at the pressure you placed on his evident arousal. His erratic breathing urged you on, and you got to work on his shirt. "Just rip it." Vergil could barely speak, his head still thrown back, as you grabbed his collar and yanked as hard as you could, the buttons flying in every direction. You pushed the material over his unbelievable shoulders and looked down: you couldn't resist running your hands over his velvety skin, your fingers grazing over every prominent muscle on his abdomen, making your head heavy with desire. You held your hands over his stomach and felt his muscles contract as you resumed your movements, and you felt the bulge in his pants grow bigger and tighter. You started on the affects holding your destination prisoner, but Vergil grabbed both your hands. He moved them to hold the back of the couch and added two digits into your mouth. "Be a good girl and stay like that, okay?" You replied by sucking them whole-heartedly, using your tongue to move another into your mouth. As you sucked, Vergil's eyes rolled back into his sockets, but he quickly gained composure and removed them, only to wreak havoc and pierce you. Starting off with one finger, he moved quick, obvious to your previous arousal. Your head fell limp onto his shoulder as he worked two digits inside you, moving methodically deeper and deeper, and lathering your walls with your own fluids. He added a third, and you bit deep into his shoulder where a small but generous moan escaped his lips. "Move," he warned, and you found yourself grinding your hips on Vergil's motionless fingers. Your knuckles grew white gripping on the back of the couch as you came ever so close to your release. Your body jerked as you reached your peak, and you calmed your body for the release to fully overcome you, but Vergil curled his fingers and roughly worked your G-spot. He leaned forward and bit down onto your bottom lip as you came, your muscles keeping him embedded inside you until his fingers were smothered in your cum. He twisted them before removing his drenched fingers from your body, and you felt every inch of him slip away owing to the swollen walls inside of you. His tongue trailed your inflamed lips before he dove in with full force, sucking your appendage into his mouth and deepening the kiss. Vergil's mouth was warm and supple, and you leaned in for deeper exploration until Vergil broke for air. You didn't notice he had expertly unbuttoned your shirt until he spoke, breathing warm air on your collarbone.
"I guess that answers that question."
He abandoned his wine glass on the sofa, picked you up and carried you up the stairs to his room. His hands held you firm in place and your arms tightened around his neck, playing with his silver locks. He kissed you along your shoulder and neck and you heard the faint click as he locked the door behind him, doing a one eighty and pressing you against the wall next to it. Vergil held onto your chin and pushed your gaze to his, a seriousness had plagues his facial features. Your legs dropped to the floor, but you remained pressed between a rock and Vergil's hard place. You urge Vergil on with your hands, carefully wrapping them to rest on his back. He grabbed one in his own and kissed it gently, returning your stare.
"I want you. Badly."
"Then take me-"
"It's not that simple. I'm going to ruin you. No other man will make you feel like this. The euphoria you will experience tonight will make you beg for me over and over again. My name and body will be etched in your physique, and the voids I will leave will be unfulfilled by any other. You will crave me for days, possibly months, when this is all over." He pushed you harder into the wall, and continued on your lips. "Your body will desire satisfaction from me and me alone. A part of me will be buried deep… very deep inside you, and you will not be able to get it out."
You were so touched by his warning that you unknowingly stripped him of the one thing keeping him sane. His trousers and boxers dropped to the floor. "I'll take my chances."
Vergil glared at your bold move, but it said all he needed to hear. He crushed his body into yours as he devoured your neck: his hands fiddled with the clasp of your bra and it tore from your body to the floor – Vergil took one in each hand and massaged lovingly, gliding the tip of his penis delicately into you. You raise your leg in the hope that he would break his teasing, but he relentlessly dragged it on, only submerging his tip and nothing more. "Sit at the edge of the bed, hang your legs over the side." Vergil's voice dripped with sex; he had exhausted every ounce of sanity he had left in his endeavours that he grew tired of his own games. You did as he asked and sat quietly, waiting for your walking orgasm to fall to his knees between yours. "Lay back, my darling." He gave your stomach a tender push and you flopped back. He draped your legs over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around them, holding them tightly in place by knotting his fingers across your pelvis. Vergil dipped his head and so began your slow descent into madness; he bit at the flesh of your inner thigh and deliberately tongued his way to your entrance. He glazed his tongue on your sensitive skin, nibbling on your engorged clitoris, and carving you inside out with the appendage. You knuckles dug deep into the mattress to no avail – the bedding was crisp and clean but held no substance – so you relied on tearing at your own skin for control. Every time he delved deeper, your moans came easier and louder, and that motivated Vergil more. He broke from his attack, giving you a few seconds for scattered breaths. "Let me taste you. Come for me." It didn't take you long to obey his order. The force of your release rippled through your spine and into Vergil's mouth, and he in return didn't let one drop go to waste. He dug deep inside you one last time and resurfaced, tongue extended, and trailed all the way up your body when he repeated his actions on your upper lips. Your legs encircled his hips and elevated yours, scraping your wetness along the length of his throbbing cock. The nerves inside you felt every hardened vein pump between your legs, and you smiled at the feeling of Vergil becoming harder at your actions.
He managed to slide you up his bed, both your bodies lying comfortably stretched and flushed against one another. Vergil let his body fall on yours, running his hands down the side of your body, where they stopped in your hip bones: he dug his fingers down the rest of the way, lifting your legs and spreading you wider, bending his knees to hold his position on your body. His one arm held his weight as he collected leftover moisture from inside of you and ran his hand over his painfully erect penis. He guided his tip at your entrance and you drew a deep breath as he dove slow, not wanting to hurt you. He followed through until your body swallowed his entire length, the base of his member barely visible upon inspection. Vergil leaned in and kissed you tenderly, letting his cock get accustomed to your warmth and depth; his heartbeat resounded inside of you, and a moan bolted from your throat.
"Wow." He stayed inside you for as long as he could handle. Your muscles retracted around him and he pulled out gradually. "Oh god…"
Vergil pushed in, more confident in his movements, knowing you could handle it. He watched your face for any signs of discomfort, but your eyes forced themselves shut to concentrate on the bliss pumping between your legs… inside of you. His thrusts were measured and deep on top of you; your hands dug trenches in the beautiful pale skin on his back, and the pain mixed with the smell of his own blood urged him on, but his pace remained unwavering. His words were hungry touching your earlobe. "Tell me," and let out a staggering breath and pushed inside you once more, arching his back in resistance, "what do you want me to do to you?"
How on earth was he going to expect an answer, you thought - your body has been incomprehensible mush for the past two hours. You were about to grace him with a barely audible answer when he entwined your fingers and pinned your arms to the bed, shoving deep inside you once more. Vergil's body weight applied the right amount of pressure in conjunction with his movements down below, and you surprised yourself by letting out a breathy scream, your scorching lungs working at an irregular tempo. "I asked you a question." His next thrust resonated in a part of you you never knew existed, and an animalistic growl left your swollen lips.
"Please, just-"
"Just what?" Vergil shoved again. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
You couldn't breathe. You couldn't speak. White lightning tingled up your spine from your pelvis to the base off your skull. His hands squeezed tighter as he remained resolute in his position. "Fuck me-"
"What's my name?"
You nearly forgot it. "Vergil." His name on your lips brought a familiar delight down under, and you could feel the beginning of a growing release.
"Tell me what you want me to do to you." Vergil miraculously climbed onto his back and impaled you on top of him. He moved your ankles to either side of his form and held your hips firm, pinning you into place. "You are not to move until you-"
"Fuck me, please."
"Say it louder." His hips jerked upward, and again your body greedily sucked him inside. Your hips bucked and a bubble of oxygen popped at the very top, blue murder dripping off the corners of your mouth. The signal sent blood pumping to Vergil's penis as he pulled your forward into him. His hands traced the muscles on your back and rounded on your ass, pulling your legs apart and lowering your entrance onto his, using his thumb to massage your clitoris before he spoke into your ear. "I'm going to fuck you raw now." His tongue left his mouth and ghosted your jawline. "I'm going to make you scream my name." He kissed you lovingly as his arms snaked around your back and gripped your hair. "And I will not stop until I know you have had your fill." Before you could comprehend your demise, his eyes glowed a dark crimson and his grip on your body grew tighter: you bit down hard onto Vergil's shoulder when the initial shockwave hit your withering frame – at first it seemed bearable, but as his penis grew in girth and depth, the thrusts brought overwhelming waves of unashamed ecstasy. Your screams met each of his, and it wasn't long before your cum was smothered over Vergil's pulsating member. "I know you have more in you," was all you could hear as he continued without mercy between your legs. You could feel him smile against your neck, obviously enjoying the aftermath of his pent up desire. You came a second time and your throat burned in the process of saying his name. His speed braked as he lifted your head to meet his gaze. "One more, I'm almost there." You opened your legs wider to prepare for his devilish onslaught and nodded, resuming to the only possible position that was comfortable. You surrendered your last morsels of sanity and whined with each thrust, again and again, each one increasing in pitch and tempo, until all that was left were silent whimpers of pleasure. Vergil followed suit and growled into your neck; he could feel his yearning creeping down his abdomen, and his guttural moans transformed into deeper, demonic cries for his emancipation. His body shook as he came, holding your hips securely on top of his as he felt you come.
The only audible sounds were the two of you breathing; your gasps were in perfect harmony; your breaths were deep and shallow; together, you basked in each other's afterglow. You mustered all the leftover energy in your body to gaze upon his handsome features. He took your hands in his and kissed them warmly. You held his face in your hands and kissed him passionately, and you sunk into each other once more.
Vergil was right. You were ruined.