It's been a few days since Mona's talk with Dante, and since then, he's backed off quite a bit. He still sulks, but not nearly as bad. Nero and Mona haven't so much as kissed since their wild romp. This morning, Mona wakes up at what Dante calls the ass-crack of dawn. The entire house is quiet, as it usually is at this hour, when Mona pulls herself from her soft covers and warm sheets. For the past couple of days Mona has been getting into the studio hours before everyone else so she can put the extra practice time in. By now she's familiar with all the dances, but she needs to be able to do them in her sleep. As she tiptoes down the hall after dressing at a lazy pace, she averts her gaze from the mirror hanging above one of the tables pushed against the wall. She hates looking in mirrors anymore: she never sees herself, she only ever sees Matrem looking back at her. Lately she's been wondering if it's still her own reflection, but now she's just seeing it for what it always has been.
Believe it or not, these silly thoughts keep her awake at night: last night was no different. She laid awake for hours before she went and crawled in bed with Dante. It's not that she didn't want to go and sleep next to Nero, but each of these men give her things that the other doesn't. Dante never looks worried when Mona crawls into his bed and wraps herself around him. Nero always looks afraid for her, he always looks like he's in pain seeing her this way. Last night she needed someone who looked at her like everything was okay, and she was just being foolish. When she crawled in bed with Dante, he barely opened his eyes to look at her, he just pulled her in closer and let out a heavy sigh and grumbled in her ear, "I should just start sleeping in your bed." He tried to act put off, but a smile crept into the corner of his lips.
Mona walks down the dimly lit streets to the studio, after quietly creeping down the stairs to get her bag. The sun is barely poking through the clouds, casting a blue-gray haze over the damp pavement, and the air chills her dark skin, raising goose bumps: she should have worn a thicker cardigan. Vaguely, she hears footsteps behind her and she picks up the pace, and it's not long before Mona breaks out into a full-fledged run. She doesn't risk looking back to see who's chasing her, if she looks back, she loses vision of what's in front of her and that's when someone could jump out to stop her. Dante has told her from the beginning to keep your eyes forward when you're running away from something. You look back you can trip. Mona turns down a corner, left, then right, and then right again. Quickly, she bends down and picks up a broken bottle and waits. Suddenly, a figure in black flies around the corner and skids to a stop in front of her.
"Jesus Christ, Mona!" Trish yells as she lowers her hood.
Mona breathes a sigh of relief and drops the bottle back down onto the pavement where it shatters. "What the hell, Trish?" Mona glares at the woman and starts to walk back out of the alley. "You scared the shit out of me. Why didn't you just come up to me?" Mona continues to walk towards the studio, now annoyed with her friend.
"I'm on babysitting duty this morning. Dante and Nero took the day off, so now it's my turn. Although, I don't think you need it. I thought you were going to take my head off for a minute back there." Trish walks beside Mona, her eyes inconspicuously scanning the surrounding area. "Why are you even up this early?" Trish hates being up this early: it's unholy. This should be the witching hour, not three in the morning.
"I'm going to the studio. I need to get the extra hours in otherwise Clara will get my spot. I've been working for this for years, Trish. I'm not going to let some bitch with bad skin, dead eyes, and pointy teeth take it from me." Trish snickers beside Mona at her description of Matrem. "Dante says you've been doing research. Found anything interesting?" Mona shifts her bag to the other arm as the two women walk briskly.
"Not much, no. I can find nothing on Matrem. Well, that's a lie. I did find out that Matrem means mother in Latin. Whoever she is, she wants to keep her identity from us for a while. I'm suspecting she's a very old demon though. Usually the ones that are the oldest are the ones that look the most…well demonic. Of course, most of them can take on different shapes." Trish has been digging for weeks trying to find out who this Matrem is with no luck. Nothing turns up on her, several texts mention a "mother", but none of them say who she is, or what she's capable of. There could be several thousand mothers in the pit of hell. "I'm guessing she's rather high up though. Also, she's got to be several thousands of years old, and very powerful."
"So nothing, then huh?" Mona tries not to sound dejected, but it's hard when her life is on the line. "What about that Sitri guy that showed up?" Mona asks with curiosity. She's not seen much of him since the apartment, but he doesn't seem like the type to give up.
"What name did you just say?" Trish's expression hardens when Mona repeats his name. "I've dealt with him before. He's a slimy son of a bitch, that's for sure. You have to watch out for him, Mona. He can make people lust after each other. And I don't mean, as in a wam bam thank you ma'am. I mean lust as in you can't eat because you're only thinking about the other person. You'll do anything to be with them, even if it means killing. You want nothing but the person he makes you want. He knows your darkest secrets, and he'll use them to embarrass you. Especially women: he's a bit of a misogynist."
"Yeah. I've felt that first hand. He told Nero I thought about giving him a blowjob. One fucking time," Mona grumbles as she waits for the walk sign.
"Mona, this demon is powerful. He has sixty legions under his command. Mona, if the person summoning him asks him to come in a human form, he'll be very beautiful. And he's charming. I know he probably wasn't the first time you met him, but he was trying to scare you. Now that he knows that won't work, he'll try and charm you if he comes back." Trish keeps her shoulders squared as she talks about him. "He'll make you bare yourself to him Mona, and when you do, he'll take you as his own before giving you over to Matrem."
Mona gets the feeling that Trish has dealt with him personally from the way she talks about him. Cold chills wreck Mona's body as the two walk the rest of the way in silence. She lets her mind wander over the two demons they had encountered so far. If Sitri is powerful, it would make sense that Matrem entrusted him to break Mona down. Though, if Sitri can possess people, like he clearly did that corpse, how is Mona supposed to know who he is? He could be anyone, and she wouldn't know until it was too late. Mona struggles to shove those thoughts aside as they approach the studio.
~/~/~/~
It's nearly midnight by the time Mona and Clara leave the studio. Practice ended four hours ago, but the two decided to stay and put the extra time in. The two used each other to practice their numbers, both giving advice and tips out in the process.
"I wish I could do my turns like you do yours," Clara tells Mona as the two exit the building. Before Mona can thank her and give her advice, Clara continues. "Mona, what's really going on? I know you're not being stalked. Something's up, Mona." Clara's voice drips with concern as she begs her friend to tell her the truth. She's not stupid, she knows something bigger is going on than a stalker.
Mona honestly wants to tell Clara what's happening, but at the same time, she knows she can't. She doesn't want to endanger her friend. "Clara, I wish I could tell you. I just don't want to get you involved in this mess. If anything were to happen to you because of me, I would never forgive myself. But you are right. It is more than a stalking, I'll tell you that much. I'm trying so hard not to let it interfere with work, but you don't know how hard it's been. I feel like I'm losing my God damned mind. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and I don't see me anymore. It's like…It's like I'm becoming someone else and I can't stop it," Mona finally admits to someone other than herself.
Clara frowns and takes her friends hand. "What you need is some cheering up. Mona, when's the last time you actually went out and had fun?"
Mona has to think long and hard about that answer. When was the last time she went out? It was before Patricia showed up that night and ruined her life, a while before that. "I honestly don't even remember. Too long ago to remember properly," Mona admits with a laugh.
"Okay, tell you what. I'll take you out tomorrow. It's our day off! We'll go get our paws and claws done, and then we'll get our hair done. Darling, you have horrible split ends and I'm going to take a pair of scissors to them myself if you don't get them cut. And then we'll go and I'll buy you a new outfit. After that, we'll get dinner, I'll drop you off at your house, and then we'll get ready and go out drinking and dancing. But slutty dancing, not ballet." Clara practically vibrates with excitement. Mona can't say no to her, not that she even really wants to. So when she nods her head in agreement, Clara shrieks and jumps up and down. "This is going to be so much fun!"
~/~/~/~
Mona tries her best to sneak into the dark building: she knows that if the boys are up they're going to kill her themselves. Knowing the door creaks when it's about half way open, Mona stops just short and squeezes and twists her body through the narrow opening. Carefully, she avoids the third floorboard that creaks when stepped on, and drops her bag silently into its usual spot. So far, not a sound can be heard except her quiet breathing. Mona breathes a sigh of relief as she shakes her long hair down from her bun: Clara was right, she needs a haircut. Mona thanks whatever God there is, that they aren't up, because the last thing she needs is-
"Where the hell have you been, you asshole?" Dante asks as he flips his desk light on. His voice makes Mona jump about three feet and karate chop the air in front of her a few times. Dante represses the smile that wants to sprout on his lips: he's angry at her, he won't smile. "It's one in the fucking morning, Mona. You could have at least fucking called to tell me you were going to run over. This is complete bullshit." Dante's voice is completely calm, making Mona even more nervous. She feels like a teenager that got caught out after curfew.
"I forgot to call you, I'm sorry. Look, Clara stayed with me," Mona starts to explain but is cut off by Dante.
"Clara? Oh, yes. Small, petite, frilly little Clara who could probably not bend a bendy straw. A lot of good protection she is. Look, it's not that you stayed out without us. It pisses me off that you didn't even have the common decency to call me and tell me that you were going to be late, but you're fine." Dante places his hands on his desk and stands up, leaning over the piece of furniture just slightly.
Mona licks her lips and swallows, trying to think of something to say, but failing. All she can do is raise her shoulders and splay her hands out into the air. With a sigh she relaxes her hands and shoulders, straightening up. "Am I grounded?" she muses with a smile. Dante always appreciates humor. Mona frowns when his reaction is not what she expects. Dante instead narrows his eyes further and stares holes through her. With an off-set grimace, Mona sighs through her nose. With a smirk, she crosses the room as sexy as she can. She makes sure to touch her toes to the back of her heel as she walks towards Dante. Sliding her hips like water from side to side, dropping her shoulders, raising her chin, and pushing her chest out slightly, she knows she has him. "I am sorry."
"Yeah…yeah, I bet you are," Dante grumbles, trying not to watch her hips glide from left to right. His tongue feels heavy in his throat, making it hard for him to say anything at all. It's not that she makes him speechless, not at all.
Mona stops when the front of his desk pushes into her thighs. With cat-like movements, she places her hands on the desk in front of his and leans forward so her face is only inches from hers. God he smells good, she thinks to herself as she brushes her nose along his jaw and to his cheek. Smiling, she leans back to look in his eyes: since she met him she has always thought his eyes were gorgeous. If there is only one thing that can be said about Mona, it is that she is not afraid to make and keep eye contact. Teasingly, she leans forward so their lips are only millimeters apart. Expertly, she presses their lips together, and places her hands over his. It doesn't even take a few seconds before Dante is kissing her back. When Mona feels his tongue against the outside of her lips, she pulls away, says goodnight, and quickly glides up the stairs.
"Fucking tease," she hears him growl out behind her.
Mona drops a hand behind her to rest over her butt, and without faltering or looking back, she flips him off with the same hand. She mentally curses when she hears him running up behind her. Smiling, she races towards her bedroom door. Her hand grabs the knob, turns, and before she can open it, Dante has his arms wrapped around her waist, and jerks her back, making the door open. Spinning in his arms, she lets go of the door handle and kisses him again. Dante pushes them both back into her room and shuts the door behind him. His lips pull from hers and work their way down her chin, jaw, and then her neck. She shudders when she feels him pull her head back by her hair and bite her neck sharply.
Unlike Nero, Dante wastes no time in getting Mona's clothes off of her. His quick hands strip her sweater over her head, exposing her leotard. Dante makes a disgusted noise in his throat when he can't pull the leotard off.
"If you can't get it off," Mona moans, dropping her head back, "then you don't deserve what's under it." She raises her head to gaze upon Dante's disbelieving gaze. "I mean it. If you can't figure out how to get it off, then you can get out. I would have thought a man as skilled as you in b-" Dante kisses her sharply.
"You talk too damn much, babe." Dante grunts when he rips her leotard in half and strips it off her. Mona is just about to yell at him when he bites down on her right breast. She arches herself into him, and fists her hands in his silvery locks. "There," he says smirking, "it's off." Mona works desperately on Dante's jacket, her fingers trying to unbutton and unzip. "If you can't get if off, then you don't deserve what's under it," Dante mocks.
"Oh, shut up." Mona yanks his head back forcefully and nips at his jaw. She pulls back sharply on his jacket, making him stumble forward into her. Quickly, she reaches down and unzips his pants, forgetting all about the coat. Just as she starts to slip her hand inside, his fingers wrap around her wrist.
"Make you a deal," he breathes out heavily. "You get the rest of your clothes off, and I'll get mine off." Mona nods in her agreement and start stripping out of her shredded leo and tights. Dante throws his jacket in the corner, followed by his boots and pants. Mona watches as Dante starts to slip out of his boxers, biting her lip as her eyes roam over his naked body. His shoulders are wide, wider than Nero's, but his waist is small, giving him the physique of a Greek god. "You done molesting me with your eyes, babe?" Dante asks with a smirk, strutting himself over to her.
"You like it," Mona muses as she backs herself up, stopping only when the wall makes her. When Dante finally reaches her, after taking his slow sweet time, he lifts her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Mona rolls her head when Dante takes one of her nipples into his mouth and sucks roughly on it. Dante is not nearly as gentle as Nero was, not that Nero was all that gentle with her. The term hurricane comes to her mind with Dante. He goes as fast and hard as he possibly can, fingers bruising and marking the flesh under him in the most gentle way, like he's not trying to dominate her or mark her. Mona doesn't mind though, she always has like it a little rough.
Somewhere down the hall, a clock is ticking loudly and Nero is snoring. Mona briefly thinks about how she feels like she's betraying Nero. But she never said she was dating only him, not once. Why should she choose between the two of them when she loves them both? Really, why not both? They can get used to sharing. Besides, it's not like Mona needs to choose right this second. Dante bites down on Mona's nipple, drawing her out of her thoughts with a sharp gasp. Using his chest to pin Mona to the wall, Dante reaches in his bedside table for a condom.
"Fuck," he whispers quietly, not finding a single one. "You've got to be kidding me." Dante clenches his jaw and looks at Mona. "I'm out." The sheer disappointment in his voice is enough to make Mona smile.
"I'm on the pill. It'll be fine if you don't wear a condom this once. Just don't make a habit out of it," Mona explains in between the light kisses she places on his shoulders, occasionally nipping the skin lightly. When Dante asks if she's sure, Mona nods. "Yes, but take any longer and I'm going to go find N-" Mona gasps when Dante raises her up and quickly thrusts himself into her. There was only a slight tinge of pain, making Mona wince and dig her nails into his shoulders.
"Sorry. Are you okay?" Dante questions as he looks up into her face. When she nods with a smile on her face, Dante kisses her full lips. Giving her time to stretch, Dante only rolls his hips into hers, smirking to himself when she whines. Finally, he begins to thrust into her harshly, raising her up and down against the wall. Mona wraps her arms around his shoulders, trying to steady herself against the rocking. Dante runs his hands up her thighs and around to her ass where he squeezes it roughly and using it to help thrust her onto him.
Mona bites her lip, trying to keep the moans in, but gives up after they keep slipping out of her. Now with every thrust a noise comes from her mouth and fills the quiet room. The flesh around Mona's pelvis tightens and heat pools in her stomach. With the way Dante keeps slamming into her, Mona knows she's close to her orgasm. Yet another difference between the two men: Nero takes his time, Dante doesn't bother. "Dante, Dante you have to slow down. Da-ah. Please. Slow down." Mona's begs come out in high-pitched whines and breathy moans.
Dante seems like he struggles to slow his thrusts down, resting his head on her shoulder. "Am I hurting you?" he asks concerned as he stops thrusting all together. His lips gently kiss her sweaty shoulder as his hands continue to squeeze her behind.
"No! No, don't stop. Please, God, don't stop. I just- it's too soon. I don't want it over yet." Mona protests when Dante pulls out of her before carrying her over to the bed. "I thought you weren't going to stop?" she asks, holding her arms out for him. She's terrified that he'll leave her like this. She smiles when Dante crawls over the top of her, placing his hands on either side of her head.
"I'm not," Dante says with a tone of cockiness before sliding into her heat once more. He groans at the sound of Mona drawing in a sharp breath when he reenters her. "God, Mona," he groans when she tightens her legs around his waist.
Mona runs her hands up his arms, feels his shoulders, and then cups his strong jaw. Grabbing him by his hair, Mona pulls his face down to hers and kisses him. Her tongue moves past his lips and into his mouth. She gasps into his open mouth when one of his calloused hands runs up her side and rolls her nipple between his fingers. The familiar pull is strengthening in her pelvis once more, and she pushes her hips down into the bed, intensifying the sensations. Mona pulls her mouth away from Dante's and gives a long moan, throwing her head back into the pillows, baring her neck.
Dante's arm starts to shake from supporting all his weight, but he's determined to stay in this position until they both get an orgasm. He knows she's close from her constant moaning and look of concentration on her face. "We're going to keep doing this until you stop thinking about it and start feeling."
"I am fee-" Mona is cut short by a whine when Dante's fingers find her clit and roll it sharply. Dante's thumb replaces his fingers and he continues to rub Mona's clit strongly. Mona curls her toes and arches her back when she feels her orgasm fast approaching. Her hands fly to Dante's back and she struggles to pull him closer, her nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his strong flesh.
Determined to make her come first, Dante flicks his wrist sharply, jerking his thumb over her clit. Mona pulls Dante's mouth down to hers, and screams loudly, hoping the kiss will muffle her cry of pleasure. With a groan of relief, Dante gives one final thrust before he spills himself into her. Mona's breath catches in her throat when Dante keeps thrusting into her through his orgasm. The pleasure is quickly turning into sensitivity and the sharp sensation on her clit is enough to make her squirm away from him.
"You have to give me a minute," she breathes out, struggling to keep her body from spasming under him. The aftermath of her orgasm still fires like lightning through her body. A satisfied smile crosses her lips, making her look like the cat who caught the canary, as she settles back down into the pillows.
Dante pulls himself out of her and moves his hand back up by her head, taking some of his weight off of his other arm. With a smirk befitting the demon that he is, Dante begins kissing his way slowly down her body. Mona curls her arms up above her, grabbing onto the headboard. Roughly, he takes a breast into his mouth and sucks greedily on it grinding his semi-hard cock against her folds. Dante knows when his grinds reach her clit because Mona lets out little gasps each time. To her disbelief, Mona can feel another orgasm approaching: she honestly didn't think it was possible for her to come again so soon after her first orgasm. Usually, she gets incredibly sensitive to the point of pain, and while the pain is there this time, it only fuels the fire. Dante moves his head to the other breast and takes her nipple between his teeth gently. Mona gasps and moans, twisting her body to get closer to him. She can feel her orgasm right there, but the pressure isn't enough to push her over the edge, frustrating her immensely.
"Don't tease me," she practically yells at Dante in her frustration. Mona moves one of her arms between their bodies and desperately locates her clit, determined to get herself over the edge if Dante won't do it. Mona whimpers when he removes her hand and pins it next to her body.
"You said you needed a few minutes, Mona." Dante grins wickedly as he looks up from his place at her chest. He lets go of Mona's hand and starts kissing his way down her stomach, even kissing the black scales around her belly button: they feel strangely good against his lips. Mona must like the sensation because she lets out a higher pitched moan than before. Going with his gut, Dante keeps kissing and licking the scales around her belly button, following them down to her hip.
Mona curls her toes at the feel of his tongue against her newly acquired "body enhancements". Letting out a pleasing mewl, Mona fists her hands in Dante's hair as he works his way from her hip to her thigh. She can feel the heat from his breath on her opening and she uses her leg to push his face closer to her. Taking the hint, Dante licks her heat from bottom to top in an agonizingly slow and rough stoke. Mona arches her back when Dante spreads her folds slightly and begins to lick and suck her into pleasure. Soon, he has Mona mewling and squirming on the bed beneath him once again. Her breath quickens in pace and her hands fist in the sheets below her. The attention Dante is giving her clit is close to painful, but it feels so nice. He was giving her just enough to add a tinge of pain, but not enough to make it so painful she gets no enjoyment out of it. Most men just slam into her, not caring if they hurt her, but Dante is careful: he knows exactly how much to give. Mona cries out with her second orgasm of the night.
"We aren't done yet, babe," Dante whispers as he moves his way back up her body.