Dirty Pleasures – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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It was the vibration in the air.

The shift in the atmosphere.

The eerie, crawling feeling on the back of my neck.

The coldness seeping into my bones.

Maxwell let out a long breath. “We need a voodoo-proof vest or something. In fact, next time Baba should be with us. Wizard against wizard sort of shit.”

“Yeah, and maybe some garlic and a few silver bullets, just in case.”

“You’re over there joking, but if you a had holy cross and some garlic, I would take it from you right now.”

I have to make sure she is okay.

There wasn’t much choice left. Emily was down there somewhere, and no matter what horrors lay ahead, I would never let her face it by herself.

Aggravated, I turned to him and offered the idiot my hand. “We do not discuss this with anyone.”

“Man, you think I’m going to tell people?”

“Just shut up and take my fucking hand.”

“Eh, don’t make this weird.” He grabbed my hand, latching his palm to mine and holding on tightly like he was Paolo.

I shook my head, but on the inside, I was happy he was with me.

While I could have had any of my men come along, Maxwell loved Emily too. And what my mouse needed was people who cared for her, around her while she was in. . .whatever state this was.

Maxwell gave me a sidelong glance as we began to descend into the darkness.

And I could not deny that when we entered the doorway, the experience was akin to stepping into the mouth of an evil beast and then being swallowed.

A heavy chill hung in the air.

The stairwell was a narrow passage, more a gullet of an ancient creature than a man-made structure.

The darkness was so absolute, it was disorientating, leaving me to grope blindly for the railing that was cold and sticky under my fingertips.

The only light was a faint, ghostly blue luminescence that seemed to emanate from nowhere, casting grotesque shadows on the walls that writhed and twisted like tormented souls.

Maxwell whispered, “Are you still with me, man?”

I tightened my grip on the railing. “Shut up and try not to piss yourself.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s see if you talk that shit after you leave here.”

Down and down we went.

The eerie shadows continued to contort around us like living entities.

Then, the temperature dropped further. The air grew frigid.

Next, a scent hit me.

What?

It was the unmistakable, sickly-sweet stink of blood, thick and cloying. A fragrance I knew all too well, one that spoke of death and decay. And it was the smell of a life ending abruptly, violently—the coppery tang of spilled blood mixed with the putrid scent of opened bowels and the lingering aroma of fear and despair.

“Yo,” Maxwell whispered. “Do you smell that?”

“Yes.” I quickened our pace, nearly dragging Maxwell with me.

The smell of blood and death grew stronger, more pungent with each step we took, clinging to the back of my throat.

The walls seemed to close in on us.

My heart pounded in my chest matching the drumming up ahead.

We are almost there.

Then, abruptly, the narrow stairwell opened onto a cavernous room, a vast underground lair that swallowed the feeble blue light.

Here, the smell of blood was overpowering, heavy and thick in the air.

My stomach lurched, rejecting the stench.

A sound echoed through the chamber.

Whimpering.

Dread bolted through me.

I let go of Maxwell’s hand. “My mouse?”

I rushed forward into the gloom, rounded the corner, and saw her.

No!

Chapter twenty

The Witch vs. The Lion

Kazimir

The sight that met us was torn from the darkest of my nightmares.

This was no normal basement.

It was too large and vast.

Too chilling.

Thirty feet away, a ring of twisted animal-masked figures swayed from side to side in the smoky space, lit only by flickering candles scattered along the floor.

There, in the center of a circle outlined by chalk and human skulls, my mouse lay.

Naked.

Unnaturally still.

Vulnerable and exposed.

Her wrists and ankles bound by rope.

I almost buckled over.

Mysh. . .

Fear gripped my heart.

Panic seized every fiber of my being.

God. No.

Her eyes were closed, her face the very picture of peace amidst the chaos, but it was a peace that thrust terror deep into my core.

Blood dripped from her nose, leaving a crimson trail along her cheeks and lips.

The sight triggered a primal urge to protect and unleash violence all at once.

I’m going to kill everyone in here.

I broke into a run, leaving Maxwell behind.

Maxwell grabbed my arm and dragged me back a few inches. “Are you fucking crazy?! What about this says run to it?”

“Get off me!” I shoved him away and rushed forward.

I’m going to bomb their families. Their friends. Their fucking acquaintances!

As I neared her, the full horror of the situation came into focus.

Enormous, ebony snakes coiled, writhed, and slithered over and around my mouse’s body.

Sickening dread washed over me.

What are they doing to her?!

Their forked tongues flicked at her exposed flesh with a sadistic hunger. Those scales glistened in the candlelight as they moved with a sinister grace, winding around her limbs, across her abdomen, and her breasts.



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