Hello, lovely readers! How have you been?
As promised, here is another Illumi-centered chapter AND IT'S FINGER-LICKING GOOD!
For those who read the first version of this chapter in 2020... No, you didn't. This is much better, at least I think so lol
I cannot wait to hear you guys' thoughts on this chapter! I'm so excited!
I would like to thank you all for supporting this story! Your interactions are the things that keep me publishing new chapters, and I'm truly grateful for that. Thank you all so, so much for the love!
The next chapter is also spicy btw. Stay tuned, lovelies!
Please do not forget: updates take place every Monday and Friday from 12pm to 5 pm PST!
See you,
—Cherry
lynnell246: LOL I totally get that! I would definitely dislike living in a safe, rich place being pampered by my crazy rich husband... Or would I? Thank you so much for commenting! I hope you will like this chapter as well
Illumi was not alright. Actually, he had not been for a while now, and specially not after the end of the ball, everyone knew it.
Going back to the training room had been even more terrible than he had assumed it would be, it was awfully boring and he was glad when it ended. He no longer had the patience to endure hours on end of the selection.
Sure, he had watched the women fight, but his mind wasn't focused on them. It was elsewhere, or rather, on someone else.
He resisted the urge to sigh. There truly was no way he would be able to pick a bride tonight and his family knew it. He knew it. Still, it was expected of him to play the part and be pleasant. He had to remain calm as he waited for the two selected suitors to appear, since they had gone back to their rooms to clean themselves and get ready for the private conversation with the rest of the family.
And they were taking so long.
Kikyo kept stealing glances at him, but pretended not to. Her lips were pressed in a thin line and she fanned herself quickly, squeezing the lace on her dress as she maintained her visor on the window.
His father, on the other hand, studied him with caution. It made Illumi uneasy. Always did. Being under Silva's cold gaze was always tricky; no one could ever be sure of what he was thinking about, nor his verdicts. It was worrisome.
The sound of wood crackling in the fireplace was the only thing that filled the silence.
There was a kind of mutual agreement not to say anything about the thief's invasion. They wanted to pretend that nothing had happened.
Illumi was sort of grateful for that. Not mentioning tonight's events would help him focus on the matters at hand. On his suitors. He wanted to weigh his options with care; he would have to live with the consequences of his choice for the rest of his life, both when it came to handling his wife and his offspring. Everything had to be thoroughly considered.
At that moment, however, he could not care less about that.
His thoughts revolved around Medea.
The way she had broken into the mansion, harmed a guest (something they had recently discovered), and tried to steal from his family was inconceivable. Who in their right mind thought they could fool the Zoldyck family and get away with it?
Apparently, just her.
He grasped the borders of the fireplace's mantel shelf, knuckles turning white.
She was supposed to be dead.
He himself had delivered her to death's embrace. He never failed to fulfill a task. Never. Yet, there was always a first time for everything. He had been planning her murder for almost two months and, in the end, it did not matter. Not in the slightest.
How had she survived? Couldn't that pathetic excuse of a woman follow his mental planning for once without resurfacing with all that annoying confidence?
"Isn't that right, Illumi?" Milluki asked, and only then did he notice they had been talking for a while.
"What?"
"The thief was actually pretty hot. Maybe if Grandpa had chosen to put her in the torture room—"
He glared at his brother, oozing bloodlust. Milluki's eyes widened and he gulped down. "Finish that sentence, I dare you."
Nobody said anything.
Silence reigned again and Illumi drifted back to the depths of his mind. The atmosphere had become palpably heavier, not just by his hostile Ren.
The uncomfortable moment was interrupted by a knock on the door, and he massaged his temples. They were finally here. Illumi forced himself to walk to his seat, right beside Kalluto, and sit down, when the last thing he wanted was to be there.
"Come in." Commanded Zeno from his seat.
Amane opened the door and two women appeared behind her. They were both beautiful, albeit in different ways.
One was tall, the other was short; one had sharp features, the other, soft ones; one had the physique of an athlete, whereas the other had a doll-like aspect about her. They were almost like two opposite ends of the same spectrum. It was definitely interesting.
"Here are Miss Willetta Betcker and Miss Himari Claybourne, as requested."
"Thank you, Amane. You may leave."
The girl bowed and turned around, closing the door behind her.
Zeno smiled at the women, gesturing for the two seats on the opposite side of the center table. "Please, come join us."
They simply nodded and sat, filling the empty spaces.
"I hope it is not too late for tea." He said. "After all the time both of you spent in the training room, I'm sure you must be starving."
The tall, red-haired one chuckled, curls bouncing slightly. "Oh, no, sir. I'm quite familiar with long periods of fasting. This is certainly nothing I cannot handle."
"Oh, are you?" Asked Silva, eyes narrowing slightly. "What was your longest fast?"
"Thirty days, sir." She promptly replied. "I could have resisted a while longer had I not been training with my brother."
Kikyo snickered. "Then, perhaps, you should focus more on overcoming your limitations. A good wife must be capable of enduring anything, anything at all." She said, visor flashing in her direction.
"Indeed, ma'am. Unfortunately, the Betcker family is known for its business deals, not direct combat." She smiled. "Even if I was not able to receive extensive training like your children, I am sure I would be able to adapt to it in no time!"
Illumi analyzed her. Confident, quick-witted, not easily scared. Good personality traits. He remembered her movements in the training room, quite impressive for someone coming from a family of loan sharks; he also remembered how the other women barely reached her shoulders. She would produce tall and healthy children.
"What about you, Miss Himari?" Asked his father.
The girl blinked, seemingly surprised to be noticed all of a sudden. "I… I have never tried fasting for that long, sir. But I suppose that's because I do not possess a lot of appetite." Her voice was calm as she fiddled with the ends of the lace sleeve on her dress.
"That could be a problem in the future." Kikyo remarked, closing her fan with a swift movement. "How are you to sustain a child if you do not eat? A sick mother might have all types of pregnancy complications, from insomnia to miscarriages!"
She widened her eyes, lips ajar. "No, no, I am not sick, ma'am!"
"Well, you surely look like it! If you lose any more weight, you might be carried by the wind, and the last thing we want is a weak wife for Illumi!"
"But I am healthy, I assure you, ma'am! I eat properly!" Himari bit her lower lip, brows furrowed. "And, although I have a weak physique, I guarantee you that I can conceive and bear a child. My mother had three daughters and two sons, and her body is very similar to mine. I am fertile."
"And you did well on the test we put you under, Miss Claybourne, which, I must say, was quite surprising." Zeno commented, glaring at his daughter-in-law.
"Thank you, sir." She put a dark-blonde lock of hair behind her ear. "That is a lovely painting, by the way."
Kikyo sighed. "Kalluto, dear, could you pour a bit of tea for our guests?"
He nodded, getting up and taking the porcelain teapot in his hands.
"Why, thank you very much. It was a gift from an old acquaintance of mine… It's quite unique, I must say."
"Indeed. The result obtained with this type of brushstroke is quite difficult to achieve, although that might have something to do with the scenario and the color palette… But, perhaps, it is also due to the material the artist used?" She tapped her knees, deep in thought. "Seems like it. Pray tell me, does it belong to the Zhorian Era, Mr. Zoldyck?"
Himari Claybourne.
Sweet. Calm. Collected. Soft-spoken… Interesting. Even though it was likely that she wouldn't bear physically strong children, she'd probably compensate for that with a higher intellect. Moreover, it wasn't as if his genes couldn't hone the physical capacity of said offspring — after all, they had to become good protectors for Killua's own kids in the future.
"Precisely," Illumi replied, capturing his suitors' attention. "But I suppose that is easy to be identified by someone who comes from the main family in the black market's art trade."
Himari stared at him, purple eyes shining with surprise.
He stiffened, but soon relaxed again. Then, he took the now full teacup to his lips and savored it, not once taking his eyes off of her.
"Yes… I… I guess you're right." She said, sustaining his gaze.
"Are you interested in art as well, Miss Willetta?" Asked Zeno.
Her brown eyes flickered from Himari to Illumi, and a small grin appeared on her lips. "Well, I most certainly am. Although I doubt I have Miss Claybourne's captivating knowledge regarding that. I am more of a literature type of woman, to be completely honest."
As Willetta and Zeno chatted about old authors, Illumi turned to his father and whispered: "How old are they, again?"
Silva smirked. "Both Miss Willetta and Miss Himari are twenty-one."
"Oh, I see…"
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Just curiosity."
His father arched an eyebrow, but did not press the matter, opting to drink the tea, the smirk growing even more.
Illumi turned to Himari, who quickly looked down at her teacup, blushing. Her posture was delicate, fragile. It was not like she was unable to fight, he had seen her in combat and she was alright, but she had a certain air of vulnerability that was very attractive. To him, at least. And her eyes…
They were docile, kind, and rounded, very doe-like. It suited her. Specially the lilac shade. If they were a tad more vibrant, a tad darker, fiercer… Then, perhaps, they might have been more similar to Medea's.
But they were not. They were complete opposites.
Why on earth was he even comparing them?
He cleared his throat.
What mattered was Himari. Himari and her pretty face. Her enchanting, harmless face.
Himari batted her eyes, taking her cup to her lips slowly.
Prey.
Himari was prey.
Illumi liked that.
His wife had to be sweet. Obedient. Gentle. Easy to control. A perfect wife. A perfect mother. A perfect woman. If he had to marry, then that would be his only requirement.
He diverted his gaze to his grandfather.
No… Please…
He gripped his teacup harder.
No. Not now. He had to pay attention to these women, otherwise, he would have no idea of whom to choose as his bride. However, as much as Illumi tried to focus on the family's conversation with the suitors once again, he simply couldn't.
All his mind could recall was Medea.
Their waltz. The weight of her hand on his shoulder. The glimmer in her eyes, challenging him like they were equals when it was clear that they were not.
Her spiteful words. Her arrogant grin.
Her laughter. Simple. Natural. Carefree. A detail that he had not noticed before. To be fair, he had never had the opportunity to hear that sound until she willingly offered it to Kurapika.
His brows furrowed and he drank more tea, his mother talking something about dresses with his suitors in the background.
What kind of relationship did they have? He had read their messages and there surely was something going on between the two of them. If there was still any doubt about it, the hurry to throw herself into Kurapika's arms had been enough proof that it wasn't only friendship. Friends didn't look at friends that way.
That body language… He knew it very well.
They were flirting.
A bitter taste spread through his mouth, but it was not the green tea.
Did they fuck?
Did Medea put everything they had taught her in Proyca to use?
Did she moan his name? Shouted it? Whimper? Did she pull him closer as if her life depended on it?
For an unknown motive, he felt confused and frustrated with the thought. He disliked it.
He didn't want to think about her, nor about Kurapika, let alone the two of them together, but his head seemed to want to torment him.
It was abhorrent.
"I am sure Illumi will have made his decision soon, isn't that right?"
He blinked. "Of course."
"Well, with that being said, I would like to thank you both for coming. My family and I are most grateful for receiving such wonderful ladies as yourselves at our ball tonight." Zeno said.
"It was an honor to be selected as one of the suitors tonight, Mr. Zoldyck." Said Willetta.
"Indeed, we are truly privileged for being here, in a private moment, with such a highly-esteemed family. Thank you for inviting us." Himari added.
Illumi watched as both women followed Amane out of the room, the long skirts of their dresses flowing behind them.
"They were so sweet, were they not, Illu darling?"
"You were scaring them off, Mother."
"They're very… Different." Said Milluki, chewing a cookie. "I mean, it truly is a complicated choice."
"Oh, but Illumi does not need to rush anything, Milluki!" Kikyo promptly replied. "Besides, those two are great prospects for him, do you not agree, my love?"
"Each of them is skilled in the aspects the other lacks," Conceded Silva, sighing. "Therefore, I do have to agree with Milluki. It is now up to Illumi to decide."
"Changing the subject, Willetta's green dress… Ah, I loved it! Does it not remind you of the one I was wearing when we first met?"
"Of course."
"Oh, and Himari's gloves! Such a work of art! Will you buy me a new pair like hers, love?"
"If that is what you wish for, then yes."
"Thank you, dearest!" She drank a bit more tea. "And new pearls, I want new pearls. Necklaces, bracelets…"
Illumi stared at the fireplace.
Once his mom started talking, she never stopped. Never. Honestly, he was kind of surprised it had taken her so long to start rambling.
Suddenly, a small hand landed on his left shoulder, causing him to come out of his thoughts and turn around to face the person. Kalluto watched him with concern, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed into a line. "Brother, the conversation is over, everyone is gone." Illumi frowned. How long had it been since the suitors had left? He had no idea. "Are you okay?"
"Yes." He answered as he got up.
"Are you sure?" Insisted the young boy. "You have been distracted since the thief left."
"I am alright."
Kalluto only stared at him for a few more seconds, studying him attentively, before nodding and bowing, leaving his brother's presence. He certainly knew that Illumi was lying, but would not comment on anything. He was insightful enough not to pry on other people's lives, Illumi appreciated that.
The way to his room was a blank gap, it was such a mundane action that he didn't even recall doing it, but as soon as he got inside, closing the door behind him, he stiffened.
Medea's scent was still there.
It was a unique aroma — like algae and seawater for the most part, but with notes of bitter oranges and Jasmine. It was like being on the coast.
He approached his bed, fingers running through the space where the woman had been lying a few hours ago. The perfume was even stronger there. He instinctively closed his eyes, slowly inhaling the sweet perfume. It felt like heaven. Like hell. It was a strong poison invading his body, taking control of his senses. Inebriating his mind.
Insane.
This was insane.
Just a few days ago, he was plotting ways to torture and kill her, and yet something had changed overnight.
As much as part of him had been pleased with the idea of killing her, another part had not liked the weird feeling in his chest after assuming she was dead. That emptiness was too much to bear. The reality was way harsher than what he had wished for. Witnessing her convulsions and hallucinations had also disturbed him, even if he rarely felt anything when it came to situations like that.
He had seen worse things. He had done worse things. Why had he felt so distressed, then?
He was not even sure if he wanted her dead anymore. If he did, he would have used his needles. The opportunity was handed to him more than once that night, but he still did not follow through with his original plan.
Instead, he had carried her to his own bedroom. And, contrary to what he had claimed earlier, It was not the closest to the library. He could still remember that brief, unusual moment. He had yet to forget about the weight in his arms and the warmth of her body against his.
The texture of Medea's tanned skin under his fingers, soft like Azian silk, was etched in his head. He had never touched anything so smooth and delicate before. The way her flesh had shaped around his hand when he grabbed her frail neck was indescribable. It was as if it had been made for it. For his touch.
Just remembering the feeling of seeing her beneath him, unable to escape but still resisting, made Illumi's heart beat faster.
Stupid whore.
He stared at the empty space on the bed.
She had been there. In his bed. The sheets were contaminated with her smell, with her sweat. The entire room was.
Hot sparks spread throughout his lower abdomen, and he gritted his teeth.
He didn't want to go through that again. But, truth be told, it was difficult not to feel that way in a place where everything was smelling like her. He didn't know if he could resist touching himself like the last time. And, honestly, should he even try to? Illumi wasn't sure anymore.
The image of Medea gasping as he choked her, so vulnerable and fragile, flashed through his mind.
His pants felt too tight.
What was she doing to him?
Illumi stole a glance at the door. Locked.
Heat spread throughout his body once again and, for the first time in a long time, he made an impulsive decision.
Illumi took his own shoes off and threw them into some corner of the room. His tuxedo came off quickly, as did his pants, and he rushed to unbutton his white linen shirt.
Sitting down on the mattress, he took a deep breath.
His subconscious knew it was absurd. It was so wrong on so many levels. But he couldn't stop. There was no reason for him to indulge in that feeling, much less for someone like Medea, but he wanted to.
Medea was a whore, in the most literal sense of the word. Whether she admitted it or not, that was who she was. She would never be able to change her essence, just as he couldn't change the fact that he was an assassin. She was beneath someone like him. Wasn't worth a single thought of his.
Perhaps that was why he wanted to do it. Because she was a whore. That was what they were made for: to serve as playthings, as toys to fulfill anyone's needs.
Perhaps it was not her that was making him feel that bothered, it was merely the concept she represented.
She meant nothing.
She was nothing.
And it was definitely not her he thought of as he grabbed his cock.
It was not her voice that rang through his ears, provocative and venomous.
So, fuck me if I'm wrong.
Fuck me if I'm wrong.
Fuck me.
His hand stroked his cock gently as he got used to the sensation. He shut his eyes tightly. How long had it been since he last had any type of sexual relief? Months, maybe even a little longer. Putting his own biological needs aside to focus on Killua for the past few years had really taken a toll on him, since he would generally not be riled up to the point of touching himself.
It had nothing to do with Medea.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the sway of her hips as she walked. Nor had it anything to do with those pink, plump lips. Those flushed cheeks. Strong accent. And specially not with how soft and tempting her breasts looked in that dress.
Did she also look that inviting when touching herself?
Her enticing perfume wrapped his mind like a woolen scarf in the middle of winter, making his body even hotter. A low grunt escaped past his wet lips as he sped up his movements.
His thumb caressed the tiny leaking slit on his tip, smearing the pre-cum all over it, and Illumi shuddered, gasping softly.
What would Medea's hands feel like on him?
Certainly warm. Smooth. Way smaller than his.
The techniques she had learned would surely differ from anyone else he had been with before, and it would probably be so much better. Incomparable, even. It was what Proyca taught her, was it not? He had no doubt that she was able to surpass any common person in the arts of sex.
Illumi could picture it. Picture her.
Medea was right by his side, giggling as she slapped his hand away and enveloped his dick with her own. "You're so boring… Let me show you how to do it right."
He gulped, hand moving faster.
"Stop playing…" Her words no longer had that angry tone from before, but rather a demanding, spoiled one.
Illumi stifled a moan.
Long, wavy platinum hair fell over her shoulder as she climbed onto his lap, leaning into him. Her strokes were delicate, but vigorous enough to make it unable to think of anything else except for her. She smirked, violet eyes locked on his.
When he finally had enough of her teasing, Illumi flipped their positions, pushing her on his bed and positioning himself between her soft thighs. So, so soft. He was sure that merely rubbing himself in between them would be able to pleasure him. That, and her cruel, selfish sounds.
Before she even had time to protest, he kissed that filthy mouth of hers, although harsher than he should. He bit her lower lip and she squirmed against him, her hard nipples brushing against his skin.
When they parted, Medea was out of breath, lashes fluttering as she stared at him with nothing but pure lust. And then, he slid into her. He wasn't gentle. There was no need to.
A whore was meant for that.
He twisted his hand, thumb teasing the engorged tip once more. His entire shaft was slippery by now. He tilted his head back, biting his lip as the fire in his veins became even hotter, forcing him to grab the sheets to stabilize himself. It only made it worse. In that position, he could smell Medea's scent perfectly.
Her warm, velvety walls, caressed him as his hips rolled against her in fluid and precise motions. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling Illumi closer, begging him to go deeper once she finally got used to the sudden invasion.
So impatient.
Distributing several hickeys on her neck, he felt her nails scratch his back. It was intense. It burned and he immediately knew she had drawn blood. Usually, he did not like his partners to leave marks on his body, but on that exceptional occasion, he would allow it.
Medea's feisty attitude only made him go harder on her as a punishment. He would force her to behave. Maybe tying her wrists to the bedpost during the next encounter would teach her a thing or two.
Oh, yes, that surely was a good idea!
His dick throbbed in his hand, hot and hard. He could feel his climax approaching, so he increased his furious pace. The sounds of his movements were loud enough for him to hear, and he could only hope no one else did.
His movements became harder and faster. Her little whimpers became louder, for she was also close to surrendering herself to the pleasure they both had been yearning for.
"Illumi, please, please, please, don't stop!" She begged between moans and cries of delight, that sick grin on her lips as her eyes rolled back and she grabbed him tighter.
"What if I do?"
"I'll kill you. I'll slit your fucking throat!"
He smirked, nibbling her ear. "I would love to see you try."
Medea shivered under his touch, but before she could reply, he buried himself even deeper inside her. She gasped and let out an extremely loud moan, holding him tighter and squeezing him against her body. "Fuck! Feels so good!" She whined, arching her back. Her slick walls spasmed around him, trying to drain any and every drop of his pleasure.
He was so close.
Illumi bit his lower lip. Oh, how he wished it wasn't only his hand around him! It would be way easier to find the release he had been searching for.
"Won't you come for me as well, Illumi?"
He muttered a curse and, just like that, he spilled all over his fist. He twisted his hand a bit more around himself, prolonging his pleasure for a while longer.
A long, lustful moan reverberated through his throat.
He took a deep breath, his entire body relaxing completely.
It had been so… Different. He had never felt a sensation that pleasant during an orgasm before, but it was probably due to how long he had been without any sexual activity. Of course, that was it.
As he enjoyed the last seconds of his post-orgasmic bliss, he looked down.
There was semen in between his fingers, on his wrist, and a few drops had fallen on his thigh, where they now rolled to the sheets. Illumi frowned. How messy. He would make sure to clean it before the maids came in.
He turned to the side, to the pillow under his other hand.
There were a few loose silvery strands on it, he noticed. A bit of smeared makeup, too.
Illumi's eyes were lost as he stared at it, processing what had just happened.
His once slightly blushed face paled as reality sank in. He just masturbated to the thought of Medea. But that was not the worst thing about it. The thing he had muttered was not a curse, now that his mind was clear enough to recall it. No.
It was Medea.
Illumi had said her name when he finally reached his orgasm.
He came for her.
It would be comical if it was not disturbing.
His chest felt heavy.
He definitely needed to talk to Hisoka.
When the sexual tension becomes too much... Bro... You're doomed.
—
While Illumi is terrified by his discovery, Medea is on the way to the Republic of Mimbo. But will she remain the same after the Whispers of the Abyss? And what will Illumi decide to do about her?
To find out the answer to these and other questions, stay tuned for the next chapters~