Demon's Kiss

by V. J. Devereaux

  Asmodeus watched as her lips curved, as her chin lifted. There was challenge in those brilliant blue eyes. Challenge, and, with that tilt of her head, acceptance and an offer he could not deny. Nor, in truth, did he want to.

  With a sigh and a grudging smile, Asmodeus drew her against him once more, both reluctant and eager. In that last it seemed he wasn’t alone as her lush body molded against his, the feel of it immensely satisfying as her arms went around him, held him close. It was a deep and abiding pleasure to wrap his arms around her, to cradle her against him while her legs tangled with his. She curled one arm around his neck, laid the other hand lightly on his chest. Warmth moved through him as she drew him closer as well.

  Rolling so she was beneath him, he lowered his head to her throat and breathed in the sweet scent of her. He grazed his fangs over her delicate skin with growing anticipation. He let her feel them pressed against her throbbing pulse. She shivered a little with pleasure and a rush of heat went through him.

  He bit down slowly to savor the moment and the sensation of his fangs as they broke through her tender skin. Deep pleasure coursed through him. As his venom pumped into her and her warm, thick blood filled his mouth, pleasure of a different kind rushed through him.

  His mouth was hot as it closed over Gabriel’s throat. He cradled her head gently in one big hand while the other closed around her waist to pull her even more tightly against him. Warmth moved through her, a sense of being held safe.

  As his venom pumped into her, her blood seemed to catch fire as he began to feed in earnest—his mouth closing over her throat tightly to draw on her, suckle at her, as he took that first deep mouthful.

  Ecstasy rushed through her in an immense wave, obliterating thought.

  More.

  She slid one hand up into his silky hair to draw his mouth more tightly against her, while the other caressed the strong muscles of his back, mindful of his wings and of the wounds there as she drew him closer. He settled in to feed, drank her slowly. Her pussy tightened with each motion of his mouth on her. Sheer delight swallowed her up, engulfed her.

  Asmodeus sensed her heart lightening as her hand skimmed down his back and she felt the wounds there knit while he fed, his pain easing as the pleasure of his feeding claimed her. Her hands loosened, went lax. His heart was lost to her as they fell away, as she went limp and surrendered to him. She sighed, blissfully, as he fed.

  Asmodeus hid his deep and intense contentment as the taste of her filled him.

  If what she said was true and Templeton watched, Asmodeus had to have a care here. He curled a wing over them in lieu of a blanket. There was no smoke to conceal them now. He could not, dared not, show what she meant to him in a way that Templeton or his minions might understand or her life would be forfeited to them and his freedom with it. Still, he cradled her close as he withdrew his fangs but kept his mouth pressed to her slender white throat, to the reassuring beat of her pulse. Let them think he still fed, as long as that pulse continued to throb steadily beneath his lips.

  Gabriel sighed. A kind of languorous lassitude filled her, a deep contentment.

  There was no pain, no headache. She was weak and a little shaky. No surprise there. She was always a little dizzy for a few moments after donating blood. It had taken Asmodeus two feedings to make her head spin…but only one glance. She smiled and looked up into his eyes, the little gold sparks within them spinning slowly, reflecting his mood.

  Lightly, she ran her fingers over his strong shoulder, seeing a scar where there had been the mark of the lash. There was an incredible amount of satisfaction at seeing him healed and knowing he was no longer suffering.

  And seeing the evidence of magic.

  It stunned her. She had done that.

  In wonder, she stroked her fingers over the mark, concealed somewhat by his wing, mindful of the cameras that might be watching.

  “Magic,” she said softly, awestruck, her voice little more than a whisper.

  Asmodeus watched her face, wishing he could touch it. His heart ached for the lack, but he had to hold back. He contented himself with running his hand down her arm beneath his wing, stroking and playing with one full breast, fascinated with the satiny texture of her skin.

  Smiling just a little, Asmodeus said, “It is a simple magic and not just mine, but ours.”

  Her gaze shot to meet his.

  With an effort, Asmodeus kept his smile from broadening at her surprise. “There is still magic in your world and you have probably known and seen it, just not so strong as it once was. Do you not feel it, mishea, here?” He tapped her chest lightly, the dark ebony of his claw stark against her white skin, and then his own chest.

  “It is there in that bond between those who love, in the moment when it seems your heart swells in tune with that other, and you know, just know, they feel the same. A simple magic but it is magic all the same. Nothing else heals so completely as that.”

  “So,” Gabriel said, “you feel it too?”

  There was a flash of something, a deep sorrow and a yearning in her eyes, that made his heart twist a little.

  “I feel it too, my angel,” Asmodeus said, and nodded as he traced the curve of her breast with one finger, his eyes on hers.

  Gabriel saw the truth of it there. Something within her eased.

  She looked around them at the firepots that still ringed them and then at Asmodeus himself. Taking a breath, she nodded. “Magic all right.”

  Gabriel was intensely aware of their legs entwined, conscious of the feel of his tail as it stroked from her calf up her thigh to caress her hip and then slid back down again, his fingers as they traced the curve of her breast. Her body warmed.

  “I don’t understand. If you can do that, why can’t you get out of here? How does all this work?”

  The memory of passing between those outer rings suddenly came back to her with unanticipated force, a wrenching of her stomach and an atavistic horror so intense she shivered.

  Asmodeus drew her closer and nodded, keeping his voice low as he brushed a soothing hand down her arm, the gesture hidden by his wing.

  “The explanation is at once simple and complex,” he said. “Magic is all about intention and will, my angel. Some magic remains in your world, in greater or lesser quantity. It is only whether some of those who possess it know how to wield it. You no doubt see some of these lesser magics, for example the man or woman who draws other people to them, consciously or unconsciously, for good or ill. In our day we called such magics enchantments, glamours or charismas.”

  Nodding, Gabriel said, “We still do.”

  She thought of the charismatic preacher she had investigated who had conned thousands out of their life savings with promises of a better world in the next life. Conversely, she also thought of the old woman in one of the apartments below hers in D.C. who just seemed to draw people to her, giving a kind word here, bestowing a warm smile there.

  Then there was Templeton, who somehow managed to convince people to trust him even though, by all evidence, he was patently untrustworthy.

  Catching the thoughts, the images, Asmodeus nodded. “Just so. So Templeton cast this circle or had it cast and when he brought it into being he did so with the intention that it be a trap.”

  His own sense was that it was likely that whoever had helped to cast it hadn’t done it willingly, and had paid for it with his life. There was dark magic at work here, such a sacrifice would have been necessary to create magic this strong.

  “Like most such traps, it was designed to allow prey to enter but not to escape. So, as with the firepots, I can conjure them here but I can’t conjure them, myself, or you out. As with my brothers. If they come in answer to my summons, they, too, would be trapped.”

  Puzzled, Gabriel asked, “Why doesn’t he just summon them himself, as he did with you?”

  “It takes energy to summon and to hold them,” Asmodeus explained. “There are some laws even magic must follow, as for example when I summoned th
e firepots. First, they must exist in reality, I cannot call them up out of clear air, it is not possible. I could perhaps summon the materials to make them, but for the firepots themselves to be as they are, they must first exist. So, these came from my own quarters on the other plane. There are other laws as well.”

  He hesitated, took a breath. “I said when they brought you to me that I was starved, and so I was, for the energy to do magic. Each of us only has so much energy within us, we can only do so much in a given day without rest and sustenance and so it is true of magic. However, give us a dire need and we will find more energy to do what must be done but there will be a price to be paid for that later. And so another source of energy must be found. Templeton has magic enough to secure his minions, to secure those with weaker wills, such as the one at the podium. He hasn’t got the energy to summon another.”

  Whereas Asmodeus grew stronger with each feeding.

  Gently, reassuringly, he tightened his fingers on her waist. “So, they brought me you to feed from, not knowing the value of who they brought. Food can only give so much. It is life that gives so much more than sustenance, like striking flint against steel to make a spark that gives birth to flame, which also gives light and heat in its turn. So does magic work,” he said. “If for good, then it adds, like flour, water and yeast make bread. If for ill, then it’s like the leak in a dam, draining away energy and life.”

  Asmodeus looked into the shadows around them and the men hidden within and said, “I doubt they know Templeton feeds off them in his own way, although not as I do you. He feeds off all of them nonetheless, diminishing them. He would need many more men to be able to do more than he has. I suspect it takes the energy of all these to simply hold me.”

  “You’ve tried to escape,” she said, a simple statement of fact.

  “Many times, my angel,” Asmodeus said grimly. “If nothing else, to drain their energy as much as possible and to keep it drained so he cannot achieve that aim of bringing my brothers here, and in hopes of my own escape.”

  Bitterly, he held up an arm, shook it, as if to free his wrist from the iron bracelet. “So long as I wear these though, I cannot get far. They are as much chains as the one on my ankle. Cold iron, which grounds me and holds me here bespelled by Templeton to bind me to him.”

  The chafing of the iron had faded as he grew accustomed to it, although so long as it touched his skin it would continue to pain him. But it had grown easier to bear.

  He looked at her.

  “So,” he said, “in your own way, my angel, you have magic too. Your magic is healing, but it is all of society that you heal, using your magic whether you know it or not to follow the path that is yours, of righting wrongs, of bringing those who would do ill to justice. And, on a smaller scale, to heal the pain of those who have been wounded, by being their warrior, fighting for them where they cannot. That is the path that is truest to your heart.”

  Chapter Four

  Awakening, it was oddly surreal for Gabriel to find herself lying next to a long, deliciously hard body—Asmodeus, a gorgeous, incredibly sexy demon. The Demon of Lust. That thought made her smile, thinking of his touch, of the incredible feel of him, despite the memory of what had come after that particular revelation.

  Not much less surreal though was finding herself in this situation at all. It was so bizarre.

  Yet, despite the circumstances, she found herself strangely content, complete, as if a piece of the puzzle inside her that had always been missing had finally been found.

  Asmodeus lay curled against her back, his body intensely warm, his legs and tail twined about her. He held her loosely but protectively in his arms, with one curled across her stomach. One thing was certain, she’d never be cold as long as he was there.

  Idly, curiously, she played carefully with the iron bracelet around his wrist, only now noticing that the skin beneath it was chafed and irritated, inflamed. It looked painful, which pained her. It had to ache nearly constantly. She turned it, examined it, holding some of it away from his skin where she could. It looked as if the damn thing was welded in place. How had they gotten it on? They had to have pinned him to the floor with the power of the Book as they had when they had whipped him.

  Her stomach churned at the memory. She took a breath and willed the memory away.

  How would they get it off? There had to be a way. She looked over her shoulder at Asmodeus. His incredible beauty still caught at her, shocked her. It always would, she knew.

  She longed to skim her fingers over one sculpted cheekbone, to run them through the smooth silk of his hair. To her amazement, she suddenly noticed that his ears were pointed. How had she missed that? In wonder, forgetful of the circumstances, she shifted a little to curl her arm back to run her finger over the curve of it.

  She hid a smile until she realized Asmodeus’ luminous eyes were open, that he watched her. A shot of excitement raced through her as his eyes warmed and brightened until they literally glowed. If she’d ever had doubts about his feelings, that look dispelled them.

  Sliding gently over her legs, his tail burrowed softly between her thighs, nestled against the nub of her clit. Gabriel quivered in response to it and the desire that warmed his eyes.

  It was maddening to feel his cock grow harder as it slid between her legs as his tail teased lightly at her aching bud. It was wonderful to have his warm hands curl around her breasts, the claws prickling as they tightened. His long, agile fingers teased at her nipples and his mouth pressed warmly against her throat.

  Heat poured through her, need pulsed.

  “Do you want me, my sweet Gabriel?” he murmured against her skin. His forked tongue flicked lightly along her throat before his mouth closed over it.

  That low whisper sent a frisson of pleasure through her, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated inside her.

  Asmodeus shifted so his shaft slipped through the growing moisture between her thighs. Capturing her nipples between his fingers, he played with them for her pleasure—teased and pinched them lightly with his claws. He listened to her soft cries as his hips moved and his cock slid back and forth across her slit, through the slick dampness there. He ached for her tightness around him.

  “Oh god…yes, please, Asmodeus,” she breathed, an answer to his unspoken prayer. “Take me, dear god, please, take me.”

  “Yes,” he whispered in affirmation and triumph and drew his hips back to put the head of his cock against the entrance to her wet pussy. Even as he thrust slowly inside that tight channel, as he took her inch by slow inch, he knew he would want her again soon. “I cannot get enough of you, my angel.”

  He pushed his cock inside her and Gabriel moaned as he slid deeper. His cock thickened, hardened, lengthened inside her. She grasped the side of the bed with one hand to brace herself. He flicked his tongue over her throat, the forked tip feathered over her skin.

  Curling a hand around her head, Asmodeus turned it so he could take her lovely mouth with a sigh of satisfaction. So sweet. He had never been so hard, so full, in all his memory.

  “I do not make love to you only because I wish to feed,” Asmodeus murmured against her lips, “but because I love touching you. Know that.”

  With each word he worked his cock deeper inside her. He was in heaven as her hot, wet tightness closed around him and stroked him.

  Pressing his free hand against her belly, against the hardness of his cock within her, knowing where her G-spot was as he thrust, he knew she felt him inside her even more intensely. Her pussy clenched around him. He swallowed her cry in a kiss, caught the next as well as his tail twitched against her clit with each thrust of his cock—teasing, tormenting.

  It was delicious torture to have his tail pleasure her as his cock thrust inside her. Each touch and each pinch at her nipple made her pussy tighten around him, made her hips push back to take more of him.

  “Oh god,” Gabriel whispered, braced as he pounded into her, going incredibly deep with each thrust. Heat poured t
hrough her.

  “Asmodeus, please.”

  Each pulse of his cock only made her crazier. His tail against her clit fluttered madly as her pleasure built, as sweet ecstasy grew inside her even as Asmodeus did. More, please more, echoed in her mind as he drove into her.

  Gabriel’s pussy tightened, pulsed, drove Asmodeus insane as ecstasy hovered just within reach. The tight squeeze of her inner muscles around his rigid, throbbing cock broke his control. His arm locked around her hips as he fucked her hard and deep, his hips slamming against hers. Each hammering thrust drove a groan of pleasure from her.

  He couldn’t stop himself, he was going to come. His body went taut.

  Sliding his arm around her chest, Asmodeus curled his hand tightly around her breast as he drove deep. Her hips pumped as she cried out. That cry and her throbbing sheath gloved tightly around his cock pushed him over the edge. He came with a shout of pleasure, gushed into her in a torrent, bathed her sweet channel in his hot cum. Gabriel cried out again as it flooded into her.

  Gabriel bucked, trembled and shuddered as his hot fluid filled her. Her orgasm seemed to last forever. Each gush of his cum inside her made her quiver, as he did against her as he emptied into her.

  He held her close as her heartbeat slowed and her body settled, his arms locked around her, his mouth buried against her throat.

  Closing her hands tightly over his strong arms, Gabriel returned the gesture fervently, holding him close as some deep emotion washed through her. Her heart seemed to beat in time to his. His thick cock still filled her. It twitched a little within her and she smiled. Like the tail of a contented cat, Asmodeus’ tail stroked down her thigh.

  His mouth pressed against her ear to whisper, his breath tickling.