by Gayle Riley
“I… I can see that now,” Ambriel felt her voice trembling, finding herself leaning back into Eo without thinking. She thrilled to the touch of skin on skin. “You live like this all the time, down here?”
“It gets better,” Crowley smiled. “May I touch you?”
This was it, the point where Ambriel chose whether to give of her soul freely, or struggle against the tide of lust that had been building in her ever since that night on Earth just a little longer. Looking to the ashen demon before her, the former angel that had already given the very same thing that he was asking of her, she could see that he felt he already had her, and from the throb in her pussy, Ambriel found it hard to disagree. She stared at him for a moment or two longer, hoping to find some hint of his true intentions, of the ulterior motive that he had to have beyond what he was presenting. Lies within lies.
But try as she might, the angel of clear communication could see, for the first time, pure honesty.
“Yes, Ikaros,” she mewled, in a trembling tone, “Touch me.”
“Hey,” he smiled, a lopsided, cocky thing. Reaching up behind Ambriel’s head, he undid the knot that pinned her braids together, and a halo of red hair flowed outward from the tight do it had been in before. Ikaros looked pleased, taking in the locks of wavy scarlet that fell midway down her back. “Call me Crowley.”
He dropped to his knees then, looking for all the world like a man, proposing to a woman. Eo slid his large hands down to cup Ambriel’s bare buttocks, thick fingers spreading outward and grabbing, hefting the woman bodily up into a seat formed by his palms. Ambriel laughed at the ease with which the giant demon lifted her, the sound seeming strange to her ears; how long had it truly been since she had last laughed?
“You see?” Crowley asked, looking up at her with his head cocked to one side. “Accept the idea of Falling, and you relax. The possibility is freeing.”
Without waiting for her to respond, Crowley leaned forward, gently pushing aside Ambriel’s thighs and sliding his face between her legs. A long, sinuous tongue slipped from Crowley’s lips and pushed, with delicate slowness, between the folds of Ambriel’s newfound pussy. Soon, it was inside her, the very first thing within her newly embodied sexual organs, and from the instant of first contact Ambriel was moaning, her head tipped back, her lips parted. The tip of Crowley’s tongue flicked upward, found some sensitive place that the angel had literally never had before, and pressed there until Ambriel’s hips quaked and her thighs tensed at the sides of his face. A spark of magic raced along the length of his tongue, landed inside Ambriel with all the force of a lightning bolt, a pure jolt of pleasure racing up the entirety of her body.
She gasped, leaned back, and caught sight of Eo, closer than she had ever been to the great demon before.
A thought rose, unbidden, in her mind: he was awfully handsome, in a deeply rugged, volatile way.
Whatever had been written in her face then, it caused Eo to lean in and press his lips to hers, a kiss that was strangely tentative, for such a large creature. Still, Ambriel surrendered to it instantly, her mouth opening, feeling his fangs prod at her lips. The angel moaned into the demon’s mouth, reveling in the rich taste of him, the rough scrape of his tongue on hers. Every moment here was immediately more vibrant and powerful than any given year spent in the sterile light of Paradise.
She surrendered to it. Her back arched, pressing hard against Eo’s unyielding chest.
Crowley apparently had no need for magic to make her feel things, but he employed it when appropriate nonetheless, using his tongue and lips and teeth as his spellcasting mediums. New nerves, nerves that had never been stimulated before now thrummed with pleasure, given both physically and supernaturally, as the demon licked relentlessly at the squirming angel’s pussy. Ambriel panted, muscles tensing and relaxing with rhythmic grace, in time with the curling, flicking motions of Crowley’s tongue inside her. Occasionally he would slip out, run that slick muscle up the length of her pussy to bathe her clit, and Ambriel would cry out, the sound muffled by Eo’s mouth. The pair of demons had her, at both ends, completing some kind of circuit of pleasure through Ambriel’s body.
She could sense, in some abstract, unnameable place inside her, that all of this ecstasy was progressing someplace, building within Ambriel toward an end goal she could not entirely comprehend. A pressure and tightness was growing in her muscles, a concentrated sensation in her pussy that rose, higher and higher until for the first time, in a lifetime measured in thousands of years, Ambriel came.
There was something in her first orgasm. Ambriel knew the word but had never connected it to a sensation before this visceral explosion of bliss inside her-that was very much like experiencing the light of Paradise, yet it was so much—closer. Just as revelatory and powerful, but detonating inside her skin, stringing through her nerves, burning through Ambriel’s body in a way that the heavenly choir never could. She found herself screaming with the experience of it, her voice ragged and uncontrolled and so very unfamiliar to her own ears, enthusiasm reverberating through her like never before. Her hips bucked, she rode Crowley’s face as he licked and sucked at her, guiding the angel through her inaugural climax one wave at a time, the spasms coming faster and faster until they almost blurred into a single, sustained paroxysm of pure pleasure.
Eo let her down gently as it ended, depositing the panting, trembling angel to her knees on the black shores of the River Styx, the echoes of her cries still bouncing down the endless walls of this place. The water returned the sound to her, somewhat hollow, but whole, and Ambriel blushed; had she truly sounded like that? How had she even been able to make that sort of sound?
Though dazed, her eyes eventually focused on Crowley, who had remained kneeling beside her, his hands oddly gentle as he stroked her body, tickling curves and running gentle circuits over bare limbs, his touch reassuring and lustful at the same time. His tail whipped behind him, pointed tip thrashing and curling at the air in a manner Ambriel could only interpret as pleased, something that made her unaccountably happy to consider. All her fighting, all her resistance, had led her here—exhausted and kneeling in some strange kinship with the two demons, petted and luxuriating in the warm glow that followed. Paradise seemed so far away.
And yet, Ambriel could not muster the strength to care. She stared across the river to the other bank, could see the pathway that led upward to Paradise that the dead would take, and yet, some throbbing in her brought her attention back to the demons, the way her clit thumped in time with her heartbeat drawing her elsewhere, somewhere better. She looked to Crowley, expectantly.
“Will you come with us?” For a second, Crowley sounded almost vulnerable, before he regained his confident beat the moment Ambriel nodded, barely even thinking at this point. She stared, entranced by the handsome demon before her and thoroughly addicted to the sensations he could give her. Climactic aftershocks still shook her body every now and then, little twinges of pleasure that reminded her of what Earthly delights could truly be.
“This place isn’t exactly right for fucking,’’ Eo rumbled behind them, casting a scattered glance around the dead-strewn river. He may have been a demon, but ghosts still unsettled him some. Eo’s place was traditionally in tempting the living, after all.
“Yes, we have a little love nest far better suited to what we intend for you, Mayflower,” Crowley nodded. He grinned, and the simple curve of his mouth, the fangs showing therein, bespoke a lascivious confidence that sent a shiver down Ambriel’s spine. “I know what just happened to you was memorable, but believe me, it was barely the beginning. Once you Fall completely, you’ll see just what it is that we can offer you.”
“Am I… Falling?” Ambriel asked, her voice distant. She could scarcely believe it herself, but with sex hormones still coursing through a body totally unprepared to deal with them, nothing seemed more attractive in that moment.
“You’re opening yourself to new experiences,” Crowley shrugged. “If you find that
to still be evil after tonight, well, that’s on you. Falling is just ending up with your feet on the ground, Mayflower.”
He rose, then took to his feet, which Ambriel noticed for the first time were bare. His toes flexed in the black sand, the tips of his lower wings drawing shallow trails in the shore. Looking up at him now, she could see that he truly did sit astride both worlds, with horns and wings and tail, a Seraph made somehow more by his fall, indulgence making him complex and powerful. If she concentrated, Ambriel could see the flickering of his own true self beneath the one he had chosen, countless more wings spanning from his broad back, a flaming sword floating at the core of his being, a soul-bound weapon he could call on whenever he desired.
When Crowley had been Ikaros, he truly had been something far beyond Ambriel herself. She had been a fool to think she could have resisted temptation, when a Grigori could not.
When he offered her his hand, Ambriel took it, her calves making impressions in the sand as she rose, naked, to her feet, and allowed the demon to lead her through the doorway on the mortal side of the river, leading out into the mortal realm. As they passed through that shimmering gate, Ambriel reflected on the fact that most that came here did not get to do this; for most, the path to the River Styx only led one way.
But that was Paradise’s rule, not one that the Fallen needed to follow.
Crowley’s path, to Ambriel’s surprise, came out directly into the same bedroom that she and the demons had first confronted one another, what seemed like forever ago. The human she had been sent to save then was not present. In fact the entire place was empty, Ambriel could tell immediately. But simply being there again, at the site that had precipitated her Fall, threw her momentarily for a loop. Stumbling, she let Crowley take advantage of her sudden lack of balance and place her onto the bed, mattress bending beneath her.
Ambriel blinked. She wasn’t used to the physical world reacting to her presence so readily. Evidently, the Fallen were more present in these lower spaces than those from the Upper realm.
“We’ve got plenty of time here,” Crowley said, answering one of many questions that had leapt to Ambriel’s mind. “The couple that live here are—separately—hitting the clubs tonight. Seeing what trouble they can get up to. Consequently, their home is free for us to see the same thing.”
Ambriel stared, a squirming sort of apprehension growing in her chest. There was enjoying victory, and then there was twisting the knife, and the soon-to-be-ex angel suspected this fell into the latter category. On the other hand, this was one of few places in the human world that the demons would reliably know to be unoccupied, and it wasn’t like they could have taken her to their realm.
That was the thing about Crowley. Even the things he did that seemed outright vicious had a twisted kind of logic to them, just enough plausible deniability to make it seem like, just perhaps, he wasn’t operating solely on malice.
“I want to see you truly let go, Mayflower,” Crowley crooned, slipping up onto the bed beside her. His teeth nipped her neck, drawing a little spike of pain, a momentary addition to the textured sensation of skin against skin, of actually being touched. In this melange of feeling, pain was not a simplistic bad thing, but something complex, that could be savored, even if just for a second, alongside the smooth glide of Crowley’s touch, the heft of Eo’s palm in the small of her back, the silken texture of the sheets beneath Ambriel’s bare ass. The whisper of the demon’s voice, intermingled with all that, was sheer music.
“Your first orgasm is something, but I haven’t seen you really revel in this, Ambriel,” the demon continued, slowly, gently positioning the angel onto her hands and knees on the mattress, crumpled blue sheets all around. “We’ll show you how, don’t worry. Eo will be gentle.”
She hadn’t realized the big demon had positioned himself behind her until Crowley drew her attention to it, but Eo now loomed over Ambriel’s backside, his hands firmly on either of her hips. Looking between her legs, the erstwhile angel could see his hard, nigh-throbbing member, ready to push inside, right where Crowley’s tongue had just been. This was a lot to take in, the idea that whatever virginity an angel might actually have would be taken from her in short order, but when she tried to find Crowley she found the demon kneeling in front of her face, his cock just as hard and bobbing before her.
“We’ll show you what to do, Mayflower. Just… relax, let your body do what it wants. It won’t steer you wrong.”
The two demons shared a look, a moment to prepare, and then, they began to work. Crowley stroked one hand through Ambriel’s auburn hair and, as Eo began to slowly, gently push forward from behind, the ashen Grigori guided Ambriel’s head forward, her mouth toward his bobbing erection. The angel felt her lips part as they touched the head, working on some bone-deep instinct, some pulsing lust that needed no words to put her on the right path for it. He slid into her mouth at precisely the moment that Eo pushed past her lower lips and into her pussy; between them, the angel shivered with lust, a moan thrumming in her throat.
It was different than Crowley’s tongue, different than being held up and licked by the demon’s skillful mouth. Not merely in terms of sensation, which was itself vastly different, but psychologically, spiritually, taking this pair of cocks was distinct from the oral sex she had experienced earlier. She accepted these others into her body, unified with them deep in herself, tasting Crowley on her tongue and feeling Eo as a deep, solid impact to her hindquarters. It was a touch beyond touch, something so intimate that Ambriel didn’t have a word for it, but found descriptors and adjectives bouncing through her mind all the same, new ones with every thrust; forceful, tantalizing, pleasurable.
Hot.
Crowley crooned to her as, for the first time, the angel fucked, undulating her hips back against the demon behind her, taking Eo’s erection to the root time and again. She allowed the momentum of this to carry her forward, her mouth down Crowley’s shaft, allowing his softly spoken encouragements to guide her, drawing her out of her shell as she swayed, naked, between the pair. The more she did this, the more Ambriel could hear Crowley’s voice hitch in his throat, his pleasure growing more obvious by the second, and along with Eo’s growling moans behind her, proved to be the greatest motivation of all.
She had never known it would be like this, that she would yearn to see their pleasure as she did, that it would enhance her own so, that sex would be a partnership between parties and not some selfish, rutting thing. That she could give, with the pulsing muscles of her pussy and the slurping suction of her mouth, and not merely take, no matter how wonderful the pounding thrusts of the demons truly felt.
This was… union, the three of them working toward a common end that was a good in itself.
Whenever she looked up, Ambriel could see Crowley looking back, searching for something in her eyes. Without needing to be told, she knew precisely what it was, and with pleasure flowing through her in a rich, golden tide, she tried to give it to him, opening herself as much as she could. He wanted to see her let go, he had said; well, he had certainly given her a wonderful incentive to do so.
So when she moaned around the cock in her mouth, and plunged it so deep that it hit the back of her throat, eliciting a gag and tears to her eyes, Ambriel could see the triumph in Crowley, perhaps before the demon could even feel it himself. She knew what he was seeing in her then, an angel committed to her Fall, open and free, unafraid of her body and what could be done with it, for the first time in her long, long life. Clear blue eyes, looking up in ecstasy, wondering at what might come next. The guarded expression that had come to define the Queen of Cups all but obliterated, and replaced by the blushing, panting woman that knelt between them.
When they came, she and Crowley came together, the spurting wetness of his seed on her tongue just as intoxicating as the rippling, contracting pleasure of her own orgasm. Her lips clasped tight around his shaft, Ambriel moaned, deep and satisfied, the sound thrumming up through Crowley as vibrations. She swa
llowed, instinctively, heedlessly, just to feel his warmth slide further into her, and when he was done filling her she let him slip from her lips and collapsed to the bed, legs spread to allow Eo to continue to have his way with her for a few moments more.
Her breaths came in juddering pants for the few minutes more that the large demon fucked her, his thrusts coming in hard, singular motions, like the pounding of a hammer on an anvil. Each one was a dizzying swirl of pleasure and impact, a slight, slapping pain that only added to the ecstasy of it. Her pussy gripped him as tightly as it could, making each withdrawal something the demon had to work for, and it was on one such out-stroke that he came, finally, his come a blistering heat that clung to Ambriel’s wet inner walls and dripped out around the edges of their union. She became well and truly filled, shivering as Eo’s thick cock twitched with each climactic spurt until, spent, he slipped from her well used hole.
For a time, there was panting breath and a gathering of wits, nobody quite knowing what to say. Crowley lounged on his side, looking for all the world as though nothing strenuous had happened. Only the beads of sweat on his abs suggested otherwise, and without knowing why Ambriel reached out to touch him, running shaking fingers down the inclines of his chest. The demon made a soft, approving noise, but did nothing else.
Ambriel didn’t want to take her eyes off of him, but it was impossible for her to escape the fact that what they had done carried a permanence that she could not erase. She had Fallen, and worse, she had done so in the very same home that had contained her previous failure, in which two people now lived who were very clearly heading for a divorce. Ambriel found herself strangely ambivalent about the Fall itself, counting on Crowley to show her the way there, but she could not discount the fact that those two humans, humans she had been sent to protect, had come out of her moral lapse worse off for it.