**Chapter 13 – Charlie POV**
My legs gave out the instant Alastor released me. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, chest heaving, dress bunched uselessly around my waist as another thick gush of his cum poured from my overstretched hole onto the sheets. The room smelled like ozone, sweat, and sex. Every inch of me trembled with aftershocks; my clit still buzzed from the tentacle that had tortured it so perfectly, and my walls kept fluttering around nothing, aching in the most delicious way. I had come four times during that last round alone—hard, soaking climaxes that left me hoarse and glowing—yet the heavy guilt in my stomach made it all feel like a betrayal.
Vaggie was downstairs. I could hear her voice rising through the floorboards, sharp with hurt as she tried to manage the growing crowd of new guests. Every moan Alastor had forced out of me upstairs had been real. Every time my body had clenched and squirted around him had been honest. But he still thought it was all an act. The anger in his thrusts, the way he had growled "keep acting" while flooding me again and again, proved the misunderstanding was only getting worse.
I forced myself up on shaky legs, feeling his warm seed trickle steadily down both thighs now. The sensation sent another unwelcome spark of arousal through me even as tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to tell him—needed to tell him—that I had never felt pleasure like this before, that something about his new power, his wildness, the strange amber flashes in his eyes made me burn for him. But every time I tried, he took my conflicted expression as disgust.
A soft knock sounded at the door. I barely had time to pull my dress down before Vaggie pushed inside, her single eye red-rimmed. She took one look at me—flushed face, messy hair, the obvious wetness coating my legs—and her expression shattered.
"Charlie… how long are you going to let him use you like this?" Her voice cracked. "I can hear everything. The whole hotel can. You sound like you're in pain up here and he just keeps—"
"I'm not in pain," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Vaggie, it's not like that. I… I enjoyed it. More than I should. That's what makes this so hard."
She flinched like I had slapped her. For a long moment the only sound was the distant jazz drifting up from the lobby and the occasional burst of static from somewhere outside. Then she straightened, spear appearing in her hand as if by reflex. "You enjoyed it. While I'm down there trying to hold this place together. While he looks at you like you're his property. The chains are gone, Charlie. Whatever came back in that body isn't the Alastor we made the deal with. He's stronger. Different. And you're falling for it."
Before I could explain the flashes I had seen—the young voice, the wolf howls, the tactical mind that didn't belong to the old Radio Demon—another explosion rocked the hotel. The new wards flared brilliant green, holding firm, but the impact was heavier than before. Alastor's power signature surged somewhere below, and I felt it between my legs like a phantom thrust.
I rushed to the window. A massive serpentine demon led a coordinated assault this time, clearly an Overlord's lieutenant testing the new protection around the hotel. Alastor met them in the street, antlers massive, shadows forming wolf-like constructs that fought with eerie intelligence. Green static exploded in patterned bursts that looked like protective runes from another realm. For a split second his laughter glitched into something almost human and sarcastic: "You call that an ambush? I've seen better from high school lacrosse teams!"
The slip was brief. He dismantled the attack with terrifying efficiency, stronger than ever, free and unchained. When he returned to the lobby I was already there, legs still unsteady, his cum still leaking down my skin beneath my dress. The new guests cheered his victory. Angel Dust catcalled. Sir Pentious offered uneasy alliance. Niffty cleaned ash with manic glee.
Alastor's eyes found mine instantly. The smile was wide, but the static around him crackled with that same furious misunderstanding. He thought my unsteady stance and the way I couldn't stop shifting my thighs together meant I was recoiling from what we had just done.
He crossed the room in a blink, one tentacle curling possessively around my waist. "The broadcast continues," he announced to the room, voice layered with radio charm. "But first, our princess requires another reminder of our ongoing arrangement. Guests, enjoy the open bar."
Vaggie stepped forward, but a wall of violet sigils cut her off. Alastor lifted me again, carrying me toward the stairs while my heart hammered with guilt, lingering pleasure, and the terrifying realization that I was beginning to crave the very misunderstanding that was tearing us apart.
His breath brushed my ear as we ascended. "Try to look less miserable this time, darling. Or I'll simply have to get more creative."
I shivered in his hold, already wet again, already guilty again, and wondered how many more nights like this I could survive before the truth finally broke through the static.