The Road to Hell

by Jackie Kessler

  Daun glanced at the sofa, and I could feel him and the angel exchanging a look. You know it's got to be bad when a celestial and an infernal share the same thought.

  "Definitely insane," Angel said.

  The demon nodded. His eyes shone as he regarded me, his finger tracing a line over my jaw. Beneath him, I lay on my back, waiting for his reaction. I wished I could rip off my shirt and jiggle my tits to encourage him, but his elbows still pinned my shoulders.

  "So," Daun said, rubbing his shaft against my belly, "I want to be sure I understand this. You want me to kill you so that I can take your soul to Hell?"

  "Right."

  "I'll seduce you, and you won't fight me? You'll kiss me willingly, let me fuck you? You'll surrender completely?"

  "Yup."

  "And all so that you can go to Hell?"

  "Exactly."

  He grinned, showing a mouthful of fangs that would have made any momma shark proud. "Sounds like a win-win to me."

  "Jesse Harris, your plan makes no sense." I heard the adorable pout on Angel's lips, even if I couldn't see it. Bitch. "Even if you were to go to Hell, how would you save your lover and your… friend? How would you return?"

  On my left wrist, the Rope of Hecate rested. I felt its weight even as I felt Daun dry humping me. The Hecate knows much, Caitlin had said. Nothing is hidden from Her. Maybe the bracelet was just gold, and I was making a huge mistake. Maybe not. Was I willing to bet my soul on it?

  My answer was lying dead on the sofa.

  I said to Angel, "I have an idea about the return part."

  "An idea … ?"

  "As for the rest, I'll figure it out. Bless it all, this is something I have to do. Don't you get that? They've taken Paul. They've taken Meg. I mean to get them back. Which is why," I said to Daun, "I need you to promise me that when we're in Hell, you'll cut me loose. Swear that you'll sever the soul bond."

  A bemused smile played on his lips. "And why would I do that?"

  "Unless you're planning on helping me, it's going to be hard to make with the rescue mission if I'm tied to you."

  "Hmm. I'll have to think about it. After all, we have time."

  I glanced at the sofa, at Paul's arm dangling lifelessly. "No, we don't."

  "We do. But him? You're right about that. He's slowly rotting. That's what happens when meat pie goes bad. It rots."

  Bastard.

  Daun's eyes sparkled with wicked thoughts. "Your decaying meat aside, if you want me to do you properly, it's going to take time. Incubi aren't about the wham, bam, thank you ma'am. It takes time to do it right."

  I bit my lip, bringing a splash of pain and blood to my mouth. Bless me, he was right. I was still thinking like a succubus. Female Seducers had one chance to approach their clients, give them the ride of their life, then whisk their souls down to Hell. Quick (relatively speaking), fun, and, unless the client was into masochism, completely painless.

  But the incubi worked differently. Every succubus fresh out of Seduction 101 knows this. Like their female counterparts, the male Seducers had one chance to lure a mortal, trick her into offering him a kiss. But there the similarity ended. Once a human willingly kissed an incubus, game over—she was his, completely, in mind and body. And once she called his name while under his power, her soul was his as well.

  From there, the incubus stretched his seduction to last for days, even weeks, giving his entranced lover undivided attention as he saved his own hunger for their final bout between the sheets. With every encounter, the human grew more dependent on the demon until she lived only to be loved by him. And every sexual act stripped her more and more of her energy, her very life force, until she was a shell of who she'd been. And only then, when the female was on the brink of death, her demon lover would come to her and love her and kill her.

  Mars and Venus, Seducer-style.

  It had nothing to do with a difference in technique. An incubus's sperm acts like a cancer in a mortal woman's body, ravaging her from the inside. It's immediate, effective, and incredibly brutal. The Marquis de Sade would have given his left nut to learn how to mimic even a tenth of the torture caused by an incubus's spunk. The male Seducers see their prolonged seductions as a gift to their clients—instead of ending such intense pleasure with unbearable suffering, they slowly leech a client's sustenance until she can't feel the agony of their consummation. Then, already beyond the ability to feel pain, the client dies with the incubus's cum scorching her thighs.

  And then she goes to Hell.

  I didn't have time for standard incubus operating procedure. But Daun, being who he was, would insist. Therefore, I had to piss him off enough to do what I wanted, but not enough so that he walked away completely. A finely honed skill. Luckily, I'd had a few millennia to practice.

  "A talented demon like you can't bring me to orgasm in one sitting?" I smiled sweetly. "You must be getting old."

  He leaned in close, stopping only when his mouth was inches from my own. "You think so little of me. Perhaps I should just leave you with your empty flesh puppet."

  Shit.

  "Ah, look at that. Such pain in your eyes. You wear it so very well." He grinned. "Fine. I'll do you in one session. I'll enjoy watching the agony eat you alive."

  I felt the blood drain from my face. What's a little mind-numbing torture? I was getting what I wanted. Yay me.

  "Do you really think he's going to do as you ask?" The angel's voice brimmed with disbelief. "That he's going to release your bond to him once you're in the Underworld? He's a demon, Jesse Harris. He won't help you. It's not in his nature."

  The scorpion will always sting, King Lucifer said, his mournful voice replaying in my mind. That's its nature.

  Daun chuckled. "Ye of little faith. Here, I'll even swear it on my name." A lazy smile playing on his face, he said, "I, Daunuan, do swear to release your soul when we are in Hell. Agreed?"

  Too easy. But what other choice did I have? I wasn't exactly in the position to ask him to put it in writing. "Agreed."

  He leaned down and kissed me, his saliva mingling with my own, the blood on my lip sealing the compact. The barest flick of his tongue on mine, then he pulled away. "Done."

  One down. "What do you say, Angel? Will you help me?"

  A pause before she answered. "I do not sanction this, Jesse Harris. What you wish to do is suicidal at best, and will probably damn you to an eternity in Hell."

  "I like to live dangerously."

  "This has nothing to do about living." She sighed, vexed. "But what your former Queen did was wrong. The rules are there for a reason. Your desire to save your lover is noble, Jesse Harris." Another pause, longer this time, before she said, "For this reason, I will aid you."

  My eyes closed as I released a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. This could work.

  This would work.

  "Well now, babes," Daun said, his breath hot on my neck, "shall we begin?"

  He sat up, his hands locked onto my shoulders, his hips over mine. An impish grin lit his face as his gaze crawled over my prostrate form. "So many ways to start," he purred. "I'm giddy with anticipation. The things I'm going to do to you, Jesse Harris." He leaned down, whispered in my ear, "I'm going to show you what love really is." He punctuated that with a flick of his tongue on my lobe.

  Hooboy.

  At least I'd die with a big, fat smile on my lips.

  Like Paul did.

  "My Lord," the angel said, clearly uneasy, "perhaps you would care to use the bedroom? I believe that's the designated area for copulation."

  "Here's good. Besides, I want you to watch." He winked at her. "Maybe learn a thing or two."

  I didn't have to see the angel to feel her blush.

  "Now." Daun's hand cupped my cheek, then trailed down my jaw, my neck, my chest. His fingers flowed around the swell of my left breast, pausing to gently squeeze the mound of flesh as if testing for ripeness. He slowly rubbed his thumb over my erect nipple, sending delicious shocks down to my
groin. "Let's get these clothes off of you."

  Beneath his hand, smoke wafted. The smell of burning cotton pricked my nostrils. "What're you—"

  My shirt and bra burst into flame.

  Fuck! I swatted madly at the fire, but before the heat touched my skin, the clothing flaked away. Cold air enveloped my exposed upper body, peppering my flesh with goosebumps. I didn't know if that was from the quick temperature change or from the momentary horror I'd felt when I thought I was going to burn alive.

  Daun's eyes twinkled. "I keep forgetting how sexy you are when you're terrified."

  "You know, sweetie," I said, my voice a high-pitched squeak, "this isn't exactly getting me in the mood."

  "No? Fear used to get your sweet spots."

  "That was when I didn't have to worry about spontaneous combustion."

  "Hmm. Point taken. Let me kiss it, make it all better." He leaned down and took my nipple into his mouth. My breathing quickened as his tongue lapped at the nubbin of flesh, stroked it with wetness before he sucked. Groaning, I thrust my chest up, pushed myself deeper into his mouth. His fangs grazed the sensitive knob, and I gasped from the tiny flare of pain.

  He broke suction to kiss the underswell of my breast. "You're about to combust again."

  "Huh?"

  My jeans caught fire. This time I felt the heat on me, in me, before the denim magicked away, taking my underwear and stockings with it.

  "Don't you dare burn my boots," I said, my voice thick. "These are Jimmy Choos."

  He paused. "I'm about to seduce you and kill you, and you're worried about your boots? I swear, for a creature four thousand years old, you are such a girl…"

  "Girl, nothing. They cost me over seven hundred dollars."

  "Fine," he said, "you take them off. I'm busy anyway." He attacked my other breast, and as I writhed beneath him, I slid my legs up and unzipped my boots, then kicked them off.

  Mission accomplished. "I'm good."

  "You are? Let's see."

  Daun kissed down my belly, around the dark triangle of my pubic hair, spreading my legs apart to kiss my inner thigh. Eeee. If I had still been wearing panties, they would have been soaked.

  "Yes," he whispered. "You're very good…"

  My sex throbbed, demanded to be touched. I grabbed his hair and directed him up to my crotch. His tongue darted against my inner fold, searched for the magic spot—yes, there!

  I bucked against him, my head rocking from side to side as a quivering wave of pleasure rolled over me, cresting…

  … until I saw Angel watching, fascinated, as Daun ate me. Next to her, Paul's lifeless form sprawled, his chest unmoving beneath her hand.

  Paul. My poor Paul. He's lying there dead, and here I am, about to experience the ultimate big-O orgasm.

  The wave pulled back, rippled away into nothing, but I barely noticed as I stared at Paul's hand, dangling off the sofa. Paul, I swear to you, I'm not betraying you. I'm going to Hell to save you, love. What's happening now, that's just how I'm going to get there.

  It means nothing to me.

  Daun's lasses stopped. "Babes? What happened?"

  I heard his words, but they washed over me as I silently told Paul again that screwing Daun meant nothing. I love you, Paul.

  Please don't look.

  "Oh," Daun said. "Never mind. I get it."

  I turned back to face Daun, who was straddled over my hips, watching me. I said, "Get what?"

  "You're distracted."

  "Am not."

  "No? You're crying."

  I was? Shit. Dabbing at my leaking eyes, I said, "Sorry. I'm okay now."

  "Uh huh."

  "I am. Really. Have at it." I threw my arms wide, pasted a grin on my face. "Naked female lies waiting for sexual gratification."

  Something unreadable flashed in his golden eyes. "You're a million miles away."

  "I am not." I reached up to try and pull him down for a kiss, but he shrugged out of my grip. "Come on. I'm okay. Let me kiss you."

  He laughed softly, but his eyes—unholy Hell, how could a demon have such expressive eyes? "Slow, babes. I keep forgetting you're a human, down to your cute little soul. Of course you're distracted. But I can fix that."

  This was such bullshit. Just come on and let me kiss you, fill me with your magic and make with the soul-sucking. "I'm telling you, I'm okay."

  "Sure you are." His smile took on a wicked edge. "You used to enjoy fantasies with me, help me fine-tune the role play. Let's see how good a role player I really am."

  Uh oh. "Daun…"

  "Shhh." He reached over, grazed his nail against my forehead.

  My eyes rolled back, and I felt myself falling.

  I open my eyes with a gasp. Shivering, I sit up, wrapping the comforter around me. Memories bombard me in kamikaze dives—pictures flash in my mind, snapshots of Circe attempting suicide, of Daun dancing with me, of the golden bracelet on my wrist, of Alecto's plea for Meg's rescue. Of Paul, my man, my Cabin Boy and White Knight, telling me things I didn't want to hear.

  Of Lillith stealing his soul.

  For a moment, I'm convinced it all happened, that Paul is dead and Meg is being tortured somewhere in the bowels of the Earth. My heart shrivels to a dead lump in my chest, and I can't breathe.

  But then I hear Paul's gentle snores, like drunken bumblebees. I turn to look, and yes, there he is, fast asleep next to me. In the soft light of dawn peeking its way around the window shade, I can see Paul's face clearly—in sleep, his features are softened from their usual chiseled preciseness. His strong jaw is relaxed, his lips parted, begging for a kiss.

  A huge grin breaks across my face. Of course Paul's next to me, sleeping—it's 6:30 in the morning, according to the clock on my nightstand. Where else would we be now, but in bed?

  It was a dream. A stupid, freaking nightmare.

  I let out a relieved breath, muffle a giggle between my fingers. That's it. I'm never eating chocolate before bed again. Not unless the chocolate is dripping down Paul's—

  "Hon?" Paul's voice, thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

  Just hearing his voice sets my belly fluttering. "Nothing," I say, rolling on top of him to give him a full-body squeeze. The comforter drapes over my shoulders like a cape, and I realize that I'm naked (no real shock) and so is Paul.

  That's different. Usually Paul sleeps in his tighty whities, even after a round of Extreme Copulation. He's also fully erect. Maybe he'd been dreaming about me. "I'm just glad to see you," I say, rubbing myself over him. "Feels like you're glad to see me too."

  "Mmmm." He opens his eyes, blinks sleepily at me. His lips quirk in an adorable smile. "I'm always glad to see you."

  "Flatterer." I reach down to stroke his cheek. The stubble is rough on my fingers, scrapes against the palm of my hand. My brain doesn't get that I'm fully awake, because it flashes an image of Paul in Lillith's arms, of his soul on her lips.

  Stop that. It was a dream. It's over, it's done.

  "Jess? What's wrong, hon? You look like you're about to cry."

  I feel the tears in my eyes. Stupid body. Being human was so… leaky. "I'm okay. Just had a bad dream."

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "I thought I lost you. It's silly." I smile, force the tears away as I trace the outline of his jaw. "You're right here. Everything's okay now."

  Something dances across his eyes, a thought too fast to follow. He nudges my black curls away from my eyes as he peers at my face, an odd smile on his lips. "You've never looked at me like this before."

  "Like what?"

  His hand strokes my cheek. "Like I'm your everything."

  "That's like poetry. 'I'm your everything.' I like that." My smile stretches until it eats my face. "And it's true, you know. I'd do anything for you. I'd die for you."

  "Oh, I know." He laughs—a soft, almost bitter sound of muted joy, completely out of place with the way he's smiling at me. "Would you give me a good-morning kiss to start my day right?"

  Y
um. "As my White Knight requests."

  Before my lips touch his, he stops me, puts a finger over my mouth. "Babes, are you sure?"

  I search his face, looking for the joke. Finally I say, "Of course I'm sure," wondering for a moment why Paul sounded like Daun.

  "Well then." He removes his finger from my mouth. "Kiss me."

  "If you insist." Smiling, I lean down and plant my lips on his…

  … and I'm falling into his kiss, sucked into his mouth and swallowed whole. He opens wider, his tongue thrusting against mine. With that touch, electricity surges through me, crackling, transforming my blood into liquid fire.

  Oh, yes—scorch me with passion.

  Our lips fused together, he rolls me onto my back and straddles me, pinning my hands above my head. Then he moves down, licking my jaw, my neck, stopping to kiss the hollow of my throat before tracing lines along my collarbone with his saliva-slick lips.

  My heartbeat quickens as he lasses his way down to my left breast. I feel his breath, hot and moist, on my nipple as he presses his lips around it in an O, teasing it for a moment just before he gives suck. Moaning, I arch my back, pushing myself further into his mouth. I want to wrap my arms around him and thrust myself onto his shaft, but his hands still pin my arms.

  "Fuck me," I tell him, my voice a throaty purr. "Please. Fuck me now."

  "Soon, babes. First, a little fun. I want to make my succubus squeal."

  He nips me, just the slightest graze of his teeth, and my nipple swells to the point of bursting. Then he changes sides, his mouth working on my right nipple until it's just as hard as the left. Writhing beneath him, I struggle to free my arms. I have to hold him, pull him to me and into me, but he won't let me go. I groan, rocking my head from side to side as the heat blossoming in my nipples spreads down to my crotch.

  "Paul…"

  "Shhh."

  With his tongue he traces the outlines of my ribcage, then licks over my navel and the curve of my belly, pausing just above the top of my pubic hair. Releasing my hands, he spreads my legs wider, gently nudging with his fingers and sending goosebumps up my thighs. I reach down and tangle my fingers in his hair, then I steer him where I want to feel his kiss.