Demon Lust

by Raisa Greywood

  Gabriel still tasted like her spend and she found it good. Sweet, earthy and decadent, a delicious treat combined with blood when she bit his lip.

  He roared and she captured the sound with her mouth as he embraced her, surging into her body with abandon. Sweat slicked their bodies, reeking musk and the scent of blood and sex as the heady perfume swirled thick in the stuffy room.

  Ruth arched against him, her back bowed as she threw her head back. He lowered his head to her breasts and sucked on her nipples, licking the sensitive pink surrounding the tight buds. She thought it would be odd to have a man suckle where a baby ought to, but it drove her passion higher.

  Her pussy clenched around him, drawing a groan from deep within his chest. She liked that word. Soft and sweet, she rolled it in her mouth. “Fuck my pussy,” she whispered.

  “Yes, as much as you can take, my Ruth.” He kissed her hard, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her still for him as he pounded into her, his hips snapping despite her position of dominance.

  She gritted her teeth against the orgasm boiling in her bloodstream as he pushed his fingers between their bodies and rubbed her clit, circling the bundle of nerves as he played with the piercing.

  Gabriel took away her control along with her mind. She could no more stop the assault of the thundering orgasm than she could halt her own breathing.

  He swelled inside her, drawing a wail from her as he stiffened and held her fast against him. Her pulse thundered as the overwhelming bliss swept her away and she screamed, letting her passion loose.

  She quivered, nearly spent with release and emotion. Tears fell to mix with the blood she’d drawn from his shoulders as she lowered her head and cried for everything she’d lost…and gained.

  Chapter 9

  The whore is abomination against the Lord. Righteous men use whip and goad to keep their wives and daughters free of the devil’s influence.

  Congress 6:12

  Ruth felt drained, like every bit of life had been sucked from her by what she’d let Reverend Gabriel do.

  You didn’t just let him, sinner. You participated.

  She didn’t protest when he lifted her limp body and carried her to the bath. Still holding her, he settled into the water, making her hiss at the temperature.

  Her baptism in the frigidly sluggish river just north of the basilica had been the only time she’d been immersed. The bathwater was almost to her chin, and she wondered if Gabriel would allow her to drown if she let her head slip under the sweetly scented water.

  No, Reverend Gabriel had a reason for everything he did. There was a reason he hadn’t insisted on the usual punishment for a woman who committed self-rape. And she had to remind herself that she couldn’t call him by his first name, even in her own mind.

  He was a Servant of the Word. Or was he? She shivered, remembering how he’d looked when he first began to take her. She’d thought it was her imagination, but his eyes…

  His eyes had glowed red.

  His chest rumbled against her back as he laughed softly. “I can almost hear your mind working, little Ruth.” Picking up a sponge, he filled it with soap smelling of herbs and musk and washed her shoulders and back. “Ask your questions before they eat at you.”

  “What are you?” She winced at the abrupt question, but his chest vibrated with laughter once more. “I don’t think you’re a man of the Lord,” she muttered, trying not to feel insulted.

  “No, I’m not,” he replied, dragging the sponge down one arm. Water flowed around her as he shifted her on his lap to face him. “Ask a better question.”

  “Are you an angel?”

  Throwing back his head, Gabriel laughed, the sound filling her with warmth even though it was at her expense. “No, darling, but you’re getting closer.”

  “God, then. You must be the Lord himself come to punish me.” A ball of ice froze in her belly. How could she have not guessed? And she’d been so very sinful with him.

  Tears of mirth filled his eyes and he shook his head. “Not quite that either, although I know him well.”

  She stared at him as she tried to think. He was handsome as an angel, and she could well see him singing in a choir of the blessed. Wracking her brain, she desperately cast about for another idea.

  “You’re a demon,” she said with a small smile, hoping he’d accept her gentle teasing. She felt ashamed that she’d thought it before.

  “There you go, clever girl. I knew you’d think of the right answer. Deep breath now.”

  He barely gave her time to inhale before he dunked her under the water and pulled her back up. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, he poured a generous amount into his palm and worked it through her hair.

  Shock froze her as he bathed her. A demon was a Servant of the Word? How was that possible?

  He answered her, making her realize she’d asked the question out loud. “The Servants are not the godly men you’ve been raised to believe, Ruth,” he said quietly. “They didn’t even start that way over a hundred years ago. It was easy enough to slip in their ranks.”

  “Did you tempt them into evil?” she asked. She felt sick and cold, but not afraid. Reverend Gabriel had ample opportunity to hurt her, yet he hadn’t. Even when he took her virginity, he hadn’t truly harmed her. Well, aside from her immortal soul, which wasn’t worth much now. And he’d given her pleasure she was still trying to understand.

  She supposed she ought to stop calling him Reverend, though.

  He snorted and picked up her foot, then massaged the arch with his thumbs until she groaned with delight. “No, those six have surpassed even my capability for temptation. I don’t have that kind of power.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No, of course you don’t.” He gave her a soft smile and let her foot go. “You’re a true innocent, rare and precious.”

  “I’m not innocent anymore,” she muttered.

  Gabriel picked up her other foot and gave it the same attention. “Less innocent in some ways, perhaps, but still not evil. I intend to tempt you into mortal sin, dear girl.”

  He climbed from the bath, the water trickling down his muscular body like quicksilver. “The difference between a demon and the Servants is that we value free will. When you make a conscious decision that harms another, it is sweetest of treats to a demon. The Servants have taken that gift away from you.”

  “But without sin, the demons will go away,” she argued.

  Shaking his head, he chuckled. “No, there is enough evil in the Servants to feed a legion for centuries.” He grabbed a towel and swiped it across his chest, the wounds she’d left on his shoulders vanishing before her eyes. “Finish your bath, little one.”

  She ducked her head under the water to rinse away the last of the soap and leaped from the bath. “Why can’t you just take them to Hell if they’re so evil?”

  “Oh, I do when they die,” he replied cheerfully. “But I have an agreement with my counterpart. I can’t kill them myself.” He wrapped a fresh towel around her shoulders, dabbing at her wet face. “That’s why you’re here.”

  Ruth’s knees turned watery and she collapsed to the floor, huddled wet and naked in a plush white towel. “You’re asking me to kill someone.”

  Reaching down, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “No. I will simply leave the choice up to you.”

  “Why me?” she whispered, sick at the thought of taking someone’s life. She knew it was beyond her, and it didn’t matter how often Gabriel made her sin. There were some things a soul didn’t recover from.

  “Because I’d like to keep you,” he replied. “If I can tempt you into mortal sin, you’re mine forever.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

  “We’ll see.” He stroked her cheek with a long finger, the touch sending a dart of electricity into her core. “Would it be so bad, Ruth? Is my company so untenable?”

  “No,” she whispered. “You’re… not what I expected.”


  “I’m trying to decide if I should be insulted now.” Still naked, he walked to a closet and pulled out another dress, this one in a rich cerulean. Returning to her, he ran a hand over her hair, drying it instantly.

  She gasped in delighted surprise as she fingered her wavy auburn strands. “How did you do that?”

  “All the powers of Hell at my command?” he replied wryly. He leaned closer, allowing her to inhale the scent of clean man and musky soap, then whispered, “Imagine what else I could do. You would want for nothing, Ruth.”

  She shivered, a sudden chill washing over her. She was tempted. Lord help her, she nearly stepped into his arms. Physical love beyond her imagining, comfort and ease… She couldn’t. Wouldn’t do as he wanted. What would become of her? Consort of demons? Where would it end? He’d already asked her to kill. What would be next?

  “I can’t.” Tears welled in her eyes and she snatched the dress away from him, holding it to her chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  His gaze softening, he stroked her cheek. “Don’t make your decision yet. Events haven’t played themselves out.”

  “What events?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll figure it out,” he promised. “You need to get dressed now. We have a guest arriving shortly, but I have a task for you first.”

  “A guest? Who?” she asked.

  He stepped back and lowered his head, casting his features into shadow. “I expect you to be a perfect hostess. Our guest’s comfort is your only priority, and you will meet all his needs. Do you understand?”

  Gabriel’s commanding tone made her flinch and she nodded quickly. “Yes, Reverend Gabriel. I understand.”

  “There’s a good girl,” he whispered. Wrapping a hand around her throat, he kissed her, then pulled away. “Get dressed.”

  She understood her place now. Although Gabriel had been gentle with her, she was still just a whore. Biting back a sob clawing its way up her throat, she did as she was told.

  Chapter 10

  Come, man of the Lord. Take this woman unto you to be your helpmeet. She is yours without reservation, and you may do with her as you wish because it is My will, and My command.

  Congress 4:25

  The blue dress was tight and had a zipper up the back. And it was much too short. It barely covered her thighs, and she tried to pull it down. But pulling it down exposed her breasts.

  Ruth tried to do the zipper by herself but gave up when she couldn’t reach. She waited to ask Gabriel to help her, watching as he pulled on a pair of black trousers and a shirt to match, before throwing another robe over his shoulders.

  When he finished, he strode toward her, his brown eyes turning amber with pleasure. “You look lovely, and quite edible,” he murmured.

  Heat rose up to lodge in her cheeks. She wanted to splash her face with cold water to drive it away. “I can’t get the zipper, sir.”

  He smiled and put his arms around her instead of letting her turn around. He stroked her back, his warm fingers pushing shards of pleasure under her skin as he drew the zipper up. Lowering his head to her neck, he inhaled and let out a low growl.

  “Mmm, I can smell your heat, beautiful girl. I almost want to cancel on our guest, but it can’t be helped.”

  Stepping back, he offered his arm. “Shall we?” he asked.

  Ruth nodded and put her hand on his arm. “You never said who the guest was.”

  “No, I didn’t.” He led her from the room and down the long corridor and past the dining room.

  She pressed her lips together, annoyed, but unwilling to risk his irritation by asking again. He hadn’t harmed her, but demons weren’t to be trusted. Instead of asking about his guest, she asked, “What happened to Salome and Dr. Lewis? Will they be joining us?”

  “No. They’ve gone back to their own lives elsewhere,” he replied.

  “Where do they live? I don’t remember them from—”

  Turning, he pushed her against the wall, his hard body crowded close. “Does it matter? Do you really want to know where they live?”

  “No, sir,” she whispered, resolving to keep her mouth shut unless someone asked her a direct question. She should have known better. That was one of the first rules a woman was taught in Leviticus City.

  “There’s my good girl,” he whispered, then kissed her softly.

  His lips made her forget her fear and she put her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself closer without thought.

  Breaking their kiss, he tapped her nose. “Naughty girl. Sadly, we don’t have time to go back to bed. You need to complete your task before our guest arrives.”

  She flushed again and nodded, then took his arm as he led her into the library. Books piled on desks, and on shelves reaching to the ceiling on every wall. A large television, bigger than even the one in the Seventh Street Holy House, stood in one corner facing a leather couch.

  She’d seen it when he gave her a tour, but still couldn’t get over how many books there were.

  In Leviticus City, a family had one book. Every citizen received a copy of the Lord’s Word when they were baptized, but that was the only printed literature available in the city aside from primers for children learning to read.

  “Where is the light of the righteous?” she asked. The red light above the television present in every home in Leviticus City, didn’t blink comfortingly from the top edge of the screen.

  Still chuckling, Gabriel tugged her inside. “There isn’t one. This television will show you much more than vespers, and you don’t have to worry about being late, or missing them altogether.”

  Ruth gasped and shook her head. “It’s a capital crime to miss vespers without reason! Why are you trying to tempt me into more sin?”

  Gabriel laughed and led her to the couch. “You might want to remember to whom you speak, love.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered. How had she forgotten? What use would a demon have for vespers?

  Helping her sit, he said, “I want you to remember one thing before you get started on your task.”

  “Yes, sir. What is it?”

  “Remember, Ruth Tyler, that the vices always sell.”

  “I don’t understand, sir. Who would buy vices?”

  “It was something a very interesting woman in Texas told me once. I’ve found her words to be very wise.”

  “I don’t know where Texas is. Is it far away?”

  Instead of answering, Reverend Gabriel slid a silvery disk into a black box under the television. Was that the light of the righteous in this place? Remembering his mocking words, she remained quiet, but jumped when he turned the television on.

  A still image of an empty room appeared on the screen. Seven chairs surrounded a table adorned with notepads and pitchers of water.

  He handed her a small box with tiny buttons. “Press the white button to start this video,” he said. “When you’re finished, hit the red button and watch the next three. They’re numbered.” Pressing the button, he demonstrated how the machine worked, and she nodded her understanding.

  Sighing, he pushed the disk back into the machine and gave her an inscrutable look. “I suppose you could call me the serpent sent to tempt you from Eden, for I offer the fruit of knowledge.”

  He touched her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze before leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

  She shifted uncomfortably on the smooth leather of the couch and touched the white button.

  The video started and she blinked at the time stamp in the lower left corner. It had been recorded almost immediately after the final battle of the third world war.

  Although the damage was great, the might of the old United States had been more than enough to defeat her enemies. Why had Gabriel asked her to watch this? She already knew Newmerica’s history.

  Dressed in old-fashioned suits, old men began to file into the room. One scowled, looking directly at her. In a scratchy tenor, he asked, “Why the fuck are we taping this sh
it?”

  “Posterity?” another asked. “Something to show our grandkids.”

  “Not likely,” a third said. “You all know the recording is a requirement of our surrender.”

  Ruth hit the pause button. Surrender? Why? The United States had won. But if they’d won, why was it called something else now? She tapped the button to resume the video.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit,” the first one said. “We’re going to give those fuckers what they want, but we don’t have to give up everything.”

  Laughter filled the room, dry and acerbic. “What’s going to be left, asshole? The United States is permanently embargoed and cut off from the rest of the world. No planes in or out, no boats, and no way to access any of our wealth.”

  “But we still have people,” the first said slyly. He stood, his thin body bent and hunched with age as he walked to a cabinet off to the side. Opening it, he retrieved a brown bottle and returned to his seat.

  He lifted the bottle to his lips and took several swallows, then passed it to his neighbor. “We have people, millions of acres of farmland, and all the resources we had before the war.”

  “What does that gain us when there are no markets or buyers for—”

  “What is our goal, gentlemen?” the first asked, cutting his companion off. “What one thing do we all want?”

  “Power.”

  “Wealth.”

  “Women.”

  “Those are a good start,” he replied. “Easily obtained and kept, especially women.”

  “I doubt your opponent in the last election would agree,” someone said.

  “Yes, but I made sure she got her ass blown up when the Saudis bombed New York City.”

  This was most definitely not what she’d been taught about the origins of Newmerica. She’d learned that the seven wisest men came forth from destruction to create a beautiful, godly world for the greater good of everyone.