Synopsis
Love doesn't exist only in the light. Travel to the Underworld and get lost in the dark with erotic tales of sensuality, lust, and the quest to find love...
Death’s Hope…
The dating scene in Hell is rough for a woman who embodies the essence of pure hope, but Dora is trusting that death demon, Alphonse, won’t mind introducing her to a little sin. Her plan to convince Alphonse she’s no innocent demon-in-training, takes a wicked turn, when Alphonse decides to show her exactly how decadent his needs are.
Dark Submissions
Death's Hope
By Laurel Cremant
Copyright © 2015 by Laurel Cremant
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0991635728
Cover Art by Taria Reed
Cover Models: Tayo Oredein & Shawn Fejas
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book ONLY. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Winged Moon Publishing, LLC
Hollywood, Florida
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely confidential.
Death's
Hope
“Pillowed upon my fair love’s ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon in death.”
—John Keats, Bright Star
One
Hovering outside the great doors of Bacchus’s pleasure palace, Dora took a deep measuring breath.
Time to explore my wicked side.
She smiled at the encouraging thought bouncing through her mind, but her muscles remained frozen with hesitation. Clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides, she reviewed her plan yet again.
This has to work.
She’d spent weeks contemplating her options, but when she’d learned that Bacchus, a chief vice demon, was hosting another one of his feasts, she knew it would be the perfect opportunity. Replaying her plan again in her mind, she winced at some of the points, then firmed her chin against any doubts. True, it wasn’t foolproof. The plot was filled with several unknowns, but she still hoped for a satisfactory outcome.
A part of her worried about the repercussions of her plan, but she shoved those thoughts aside. Once she’d made up her mind, both nervousness and anticipation settled in her bones.
Taunting death wasn’t something anyone should do lightly.
Her nipples pebbled at that thought. That was the source of all her problems. All she wanted was to taunt Alphonse, the high demon known as Death. To tease the stubborn demon into fucking her senseless.
Towering tall and thickly built, Alphonse had a physique that made her mouth water. In mockery to his role of death dealing, the Gods blessed him with thick blond hair and golden hued skin that stretched taut over large hardened muscles.
His handsome face consisted of full lips beneath a strong slash of a nose which Alphonse took pleasure looking down at others from with his mercury colored eyes. A long scar dipped from the corner of his left eye down to the top of the same cheek.
Dora shook her head. As if his face and body weren’t beautiful enough, Alphonse’s root form consisted of a long, golden scaled tail. It was over five feet in length. In battle he wielded the thick extension like an additional weapon.
In bed, he reportedly did the same.
Shivering, she recalled the stories she’d heard of the wicked things Alphonse did to his lovers with his extra appendage. Frowning, she thought of all the times they’d been alone together. His tail remained hidden behind his back without a single twitch of interest.
Fighting down the urge to grind her teeth, she blew out a quick breath.
For months she’d endured his placid treatment. He claimed to care for her, but hid his passion from her as if she were a chaste nun.
“I’m no shrinking virgin,” she said, her lips pulling down in a frown.
She enjoyed sex, craved it even. Physical touch and signs of affection were tools of empathy—an emotion that fed her powers and kept her strong. Most demons in the Underworld didn’t understand how powerful the act of touch was. The intimacy of a single caress, offered in affection or love, was a powerful thing. She didn’t need it to survive, not like the succubus demons, but it did boost her strength.
She’d never experienced a touch like Alphonse’s.
The first time his skin brushed against hers she’d held her breath, wanting the delicious moment to last forever. His rough fingers had grazed across hers and cradled her hand in his palm. The slow slide of friction, causing goosebumps to radiate from that point of contact and center at her pussy. Wet heat coated her labia as he gave a slight bow and brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss.
“We meet at last.”
Even now, she didn’t know how she replied to his husky introduction. It had taken every ounce of will not to strip naked and throw herself at his feet. Since then, she’d seen him almost every day.
She’d learned what made him laugh, what intrigued his keen intellect. He was several millennia old, and his mind still sought out enigmas and puzzles. She loved the deep-raspy sound of his voice, the firm slant of his jaw, and the way his cheek twitched when he was angry.
She craved his touch, his smiles and kind gestures, but most of all she craved all of him—including the pieces he attempted to hide.
As a death demon, Alphonse had a dark side he tried to mask from her. In the beginning, she’d been too enamored by the him to notice his hesitancy. However, as the days and weeks wore on, she’d fallen in love with him and wanted to know every facet of him. Looking at back on that time now, she was sure her mind took that time to catch up to what her heart knew that first instant he took her hand.
She hoped he loved her as well, but knowing he held a piece of himself back prevented her from reveling her full feelings to him. They still hadn’t even made love. Every time things became heated, he pulled away, kissed her gently, then left her and himself unfulfilled.
She hadn’t even had the opportunity to see his cock.
He kept that just as well under guard as his feelings, but what she’d felt of him pressed up against her, filled her dreams. There, she was allowed to tease and pleasure her demon to completion.
For a while, her dreams and manual stimulation kept her frustration at bay, but Dora yearned for the real thing. From the beginning, she dreamed of him touching her, spreading her legs wide and tasting her there. Every morning she woke up with her hands between her thighs covered in her own arousal.
It ends today.
She was tired of waiting for Alphonse to stop treating her like some delicate flower. If she was ever going to convince him that she wanted more than tepid kisses and gentle loving, it would be tonight.
Her body tingled at that thought. Tonight, Alphonse’s best friend, Bacchus, was hosting yet another feast at his palace, and Dora had arranged to attend. The feasts were known to be decadent, wild occasions, full of drink and erotic sexual encounters. Dora had never been interested in attending, but she knew her presence there would alert Alphonse. If Bacchus didn’t inform him, then his loyal foot soldiers would.
Even now she felt their presence hovering behind her.
Specters.
Soldiers who were valiant fighters in life and had sworn the
ir allegiance to Alphonse in death. From the day he first began courting her she’d known the wraith-like guards followed and observed her movements within the Underworld. No doubt, it was Alphonse’s way of protecting her. He shouldn’t have bothered.
Like Alphonse, she was a pithos demon. A demon that embodied one of the many troubles and sins let loose by Pandora and her infernal jar. As the embodiment of hope, Dora was rarely unwelcome in the dark realm of the Underworld. She felt more at home traveling through Hell than anywhere else. No one ever seemed to understand that her powers thrived in darkness.
A slight shift in the air behind her alerted Dora that her shadow guards were getting restless. No doubt they were unsure of why she’d traveled here.
She hovered outside the doors of Bacchus’ palace a moment longer, her lips curling upwards before taking a deep breath and releasing it in a huff. Reaching up, she pushed back her hood and unclasped the tie at her neck. The heavy garment fell to the floor leaving her naked.
With a smile she looked over her shoulders and smiled in the direction she knew the guards stood.
“Go find your master and tell him I’m tired of waiting.”
Facing the doors again, she pushed them open and stepped into the great hall of sin.
Two
Alphonse had visited every level of Hell during his lifetime in the Underworld as the bringer of death. Very few beings or things surprised him, and even fewer elicited an emotional response from him—until today. Gyrating in front of a crowded hall of revelers and spectators, was Dora—his innocent little hope of a demon.
When his guards informed him of her presence here, he didn’t want to believe them. He’d assumed it was their attempt at a terrible joke—but the worried looks on their faces had propelled him to action.
Over the last several months, his bodyguards had grown attached to Dora. That didn’t surprise Alphonse. Dora had such a pure heart, it was difficult for anyone to dislike her. Her genuine want to bring light to the darkest parts of Vinghel’s realm, Hell, was hard to ignore.
It was her innocence that first drew him to her—that made him take a longer look at the small demon. Like the quality she embodied, Dora at first appeared unassuming, but the more he observed her, the more remarkable she became.
Her small stature, often cloaked by heavy robes, hid luscious curves that played hide and seek each time she moved. He would watch her cross the main courtyards, captivated by how the gentle sway of her hips betrayed the hint of her high rounded ass.
At first glance, her hair appeared to be a deep-red, but on closer inspection, her wild mop of curls contained at least a hundred different shades of red and brown, each one catching the light in different ways. The first time he’d met her in person, his palms had itched to grasp the back of her head and slip his fingers around the silky strands.
Her dark skin shone like chocolate dipped in amber, as if the Gods understood that such perfection should be preserved and admired. Alphonse couldn’t count the times he’d spent wondering about its softness or how it would feel pressed against him.
Her mouth...
Alphonse clenched his teeth at the images streaking through his brain. Every time he focused on her lips, he imagined them wrapped around his cock sucking him dry or open wide on a scream as he fucked her until she couldn’t breathe.
Of all her features, her eyes were his downfall. The moment those warm-amber orbs peered up at him with a heady combination of trust and lust, Alphonse knew he was lost—and that was his dilemma.
For all her innocence and purity, all Alphonse wanted to do was make her dirty. He wanted her in every decadent way imaginable, every hole filled, every position taken.
The first time he’d approached her and she offered a tentative hello, he’d been lost. He courted her from that moment on, determined to bind her to him, even when he knew his dark soul didn’t deserve hers.
When they held hands and went on long walks, he wanted to push her down on all fours and rut her for hours. When he kissed her softly at night he wanted to pull her closer and devour her mouth before burying his head between her legs and feasting on her pussy.
He marveled at the fact that others didn’t see how sexy she was. Every time he saw or thought of her, he grew hard with arousal. Where others saw a symbol of hope, he saw a woman so innocently sexy, she was made for sin.
Alphonse didn’t know if he could control himself with her. Fear of hurting her plagued him. He liked his sex kinky and rough. Centuries of seeing the worst of humanity had taught him to take his pleasure with zeal. He didn’t know if Dora was up for his particular brand of loving. So he’d been taking it slow, waiting for a sign that she would be interested in something more than gentle loving.
Perhaps now I have my answer.
Now that woman, danced among a crowd of drunks, exposing the body he coveted to a hall full of intoxicated fools.
They’ll die.
Alphonse stood at the end of the ballroom and watched the crowd with a hooded gaze. They sat and stood in various forms of undress throughout the great hall as they engaged in all levels of debauchery. The room smelled of smoke, wine and sex. The scents mingled together to produce a wanton fragrance that was at once intoxicating and sinful.
In the past, Alphonse enjoyed attending these types of parties, but since Dora, he could only imagine indulging with her.
As a testament to the party-goers’ level of inebriation, no one seemed to notice his presence. Which was a good thing, since he wanted to kill each and every one of them, and at the top of his list was Bacchus, his soon to be very dead friend.
He seethed as they watched her. His woman.
Balling his fists at his sides, he attempted to rein in his temper, but knew his silver eyes were already hazed over to black. His nails elongated and curved into sharp talons and the air around him began to chill and frost.
Those closest to him shifted away, the small sober portions of their brains attempting to move them to safety.
Dora undulated on the dais, her hands roaming up her body and cupping her magnificent breasts. They were as gorgeous as he’d imagined. Her skin gleamed with a hint of sweat, the thin rivulets skimming down her chest, abdomen and thighs, while her pussy was bare and smooth, glistening in the low light.
Everyone’s gaze was on her as she danced. Her hips swayed and rocked back and forth as if she was riding a hard cock between her legs.
His own dick hardened even as his anger grew. He imagined her over him riding him until he exploded into her. Knowing the others imagined the same, he growled low.
Propelling to action, he approached her, bringing the cold with him, the crowd grew silent.
“Ahhh. We have another unexpected visitor. Alphonse my friend, welcome to the celebration!”
Bacchus stood from his mass of pillows lain across the floor and clapped his hands together as if nothing was amiss. Alphonse spared the demon lord a withering glare before returning his attention to Dora.
She stilled, her hips frozen in a provocative slant. Then, in a slow twist, she straightened and turned to him in a careful pirouette.
Her long hair floated around her shoulders like a cloak. The dark mass serving as the perfect frame to her beautiful face.
“Hello Alphonse,” she said.
He scowled at her blank expression for a moment before speaking.
“What are you doing here?”
He enunciated the words in slow precision. With his blood pounding a rapid rhythm at his temples, he needed to make sure she heard him correctly.
She shrugged, the action making the ample globes of her breasts sway and jiggle.
“I’ve never been to one of Bacchus’s parties and decided to pop in.”
He felt a tick tug at his scarred cheek.
“Pop in?”
“Hmm.”
She flicked at her hair, stepped from the dais, and walked towards him. Each step she took brought the swaying perfection of her body into hyper clarity. T
he room around him began to blur, bringing Dora into hyper-focus.
“They are all watching you, lusting after what’s mine,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Yours?”
She raised a delicate brow at him, her pouty lips pursing down into a frown.
“First. I’m no one’s pet or a thing you can possess. Second, even if I felt like allowing a limited lease...I don’t recall you staking a claim. As a matter of fact, I’m sure I would distinctly remember it if you did.”
He hissed out a breath and tried to hold back a snarl.
What was wrong with her? She knew his feelings--knew he cared about her. Why would she pretend otherwise?
He flicked his gaze towards Bacchus who was observing them with wide eyes.
“What have you given her?” he asked Bacchus.
As a vice demon, Bacchus often laced his food and wine with spells and enchantments geared towards lowering inhibitions. It was the only plausible explanation for Dora’s behavior.
Bacchus raised his hands up to his shoulders, palms facing outward.
“Not a single thing. I welcomed her to the hall, but made sure nothing she drank would affect her. I know you...hold her in affection.”
The demon had the nerve to curl his lips in a smile. The bastard knew Alphonse held Dora in more than just a light fondness. He was enjoying seeing Alphonse lose his temper. Unfurling his fingers from his palms, Alphonse held back the impulse to pummel Bacchus to the ground.
“Then how would you explain this?”
Alphonse waved his hand at Dora, his cool a distant memory. Bacchus replied with a shrug of his own.
“You know I am standing right here. You could just ask me yourself.”
Alphonse returned his attention to Dora, glaring at her continued mocking tone. The air around him chilled a few more degrees. If she continued testing his patience, he feared his control would slip entirely.
Just as quickly as the thought occurred to him, he watched a shiver work its way up her body. It prickled her smooth skin in a tantalizing sweep and pebbled her nipples. He licked his lips, distracted by the notion of what the sensitive breasts would taste like in his mouth.
Dark Submissions: Death's Hope Page 1