Chapter 15 #2
Seymour choked on a gasp, his body betraying him by releasing its grip on Sariel’s cock.
It was exactly that moment Sariel decided to resume fucking him, and Seymour swore he felt Sariel’s dick coming through his chest. He whimpered and spread his legs to help relieve the ache, all bratty pretenses lost as Sariel completely ravaged him.
God, it was good.
It was always so fucking good.
Seymour grunted in surprise as Sariel suddenly turned him around so he was on his back but still suspended by all the powerful muscles tangled around his body. He flailed for something to brace himself even though there was no need, staring in awe at Sariel above him.
It was…
Incredible.
There was nothing human about Sariel’s form now, a writhing mass of golden sinew that danced and twisted in a never-ending symphony of pulsing flesh.
The rings of Sariel’s head were equally mesmerizing, as they too were moving, spinning around and around so frantically that they sometimes appeared to be a singular golden orb of light instead of many gyrating pieces.
Sariel’s eyes peeked out from between the thick ropes of his formless mass, blinking here and there, but each one appeared to be fixated on Seymour.
Being the sole object of such a majestic, powerful creature’s attention was humbling, and Seymour’s gaze clouded over with tears. It was truly as if a piece of something divine was here with him, beautiful and perfect, and he couldn’t believe that Sariel had chosen him.
Sariel could have had anyone.
Anyone at all.
But he wanted Seymour.
Seymour struggled to sit up, flexing his stomach so he could reach for the upper part of Sariel’s mass just below his head. He wanted to feel and touch and hold him, crying out as the new position allowed Sariel to thrust even deeper than before.
It was impossible to stay quiet now, all efforts to silence himself forgotten.
How the hell could he when an angel was pounding his ass into sheer oblivion?
“Put your legs around me,” Sariel commanded. “Right now.”
Seymour was glad for the muscular bits still curled around him because he didn’t think he could have moved of his own accord right then.
His limbs were shaking all over, and he let out a frantic moan as he wrapped himself around Sariel.
He squeezed down on Sariel’s cock, savoring the new rush of pressure, and he realized almost too late that he was right on the edge of climax.
Everything was too damn good.
The position, the stretch, and the contrast of such a brutal fucking alongside Sariel’s tender embrace.
“Daddy, please,” he pleaded. “I need to—I’m gonna come! I gotta fuckin’ come!”
“Come for me.” Sariel’s voice echoed off the walls, his entire being glowing brighter. “Come for Daddy right now.”
Seymour’s hips bucked, and there... he was coming.
His body clenched and spasmed, and a needy scream erupted from the back of his throat as his vision exploded with fireworks.
He could only assume it was Sariel’s power that kept his orgasm going on for so long, each pulse aching and bursting with pleasure until he thought he was in danger of losing consciousness.
Just as the wonderful feeling dipped and he thought it would end, the bliss returned with the same intensity.
It surged over and over, like riding the crest of a wave, and just when Seymour didn’t think he had anything left to give, the sensations dwindled away and left behind only a fantastic thrum in their wake.
There was no overstimulation or discomfort, only a delightful warmth he swore he could feel down in the marrow of his bones.
He was exhausted, limp, and he didn’t have the strength to even lift his head to watch Sariel’s transformation back into his human form.
Seymour was aware of the sinewy bits withdrawing and familiar arms now holding him instead, but it was all he could do to remember to breathe.
“Are you all right?” Sariel murmured, rubbing Seymour’s back.
“Uh-huh,” Seymour croaked.
“Are you sure? You do not sound all right.”
“I’m good.” Seymour took a deep breath. “I can feel my pulse down in my asshole and I don’t think I’m gonna be doin’ any marathons, but really. Good. So fuckin’ good.”
Sariel kissed the top of his head and cradled him close. “I was afraid I hurt you.”
“Nah.” Seymour shifted his hips. “You can totally pull out though.”
“Oh! My apologies.” Sariel withdrew, gently urging Seymour’s legs down to the floor.
Seymour remained propped up against Sariel’s chest, glad for his strong arms to keep him from melting into a puddle. “It’s fine. Promise.”
Sariel nuzzled Seymour’s hair again. “I will locate your pants.”
“Pants? Oh. Right. They’re around here somewhere.”
A voice in the stall next to them cleared their throat, something tapping at the top of the divider.
Seymour looked up to see a scaly blue hand holding his jeans. “Oh. There they are.”
“Ah. Thank you.” Sariel turned a brilliant shade of red and quickly grabbed them.
Seymour willed his body to move so he could pull his underwear back up. He winced when the fabric rubbed against his sore cheeks. “Damn.”
Sariel frowned deeply. “Are you certain I did not harm you? Was I too rough?”
“No, no.” Seymour shook his head, grinning as he rubbed his butt. “It’s all right! I can take it. Tougher than I look.”
Sariel perked up a little, and he nodded. “I am aware. It is one of the many things I admire about you.”
“Yeah? Is that so?”
“Yes.” Sariel smiled. “Aries are known for their bravery, after all. It is a sign that is said to embody both fearlessness and courage, and you have demonstrated these qualities many times over in the brief period we have known each other. There are very few others, even among my fellow monsters, who could claim to be as resilient and adaptable as you have been, in spite of our ever-changing and often quite terrifying circumstances. You are quite incredible, Seymour.”
Seymour didn’t think it was possible, but his face flushed hotter. “Well, uh, thanks. I got a nice ass too.”
Sariel laughed. “That you do. And many other things.”
“You got a lot of nice things too, you know.”
“Do I?”
“Uh-huh.” Seymour kissed him. “You’re so fuckin’ smart, and hey, you’re brave as fuck too.
Not to mention way fuckin’ resilient considerin’ you’ve been stuck havin’ to listen to that big ol’ asshole demon forever.
That kinda shit might break someone. Make ’em bitter.
Angry. But not you. You still have this light in you, this joy, and I see it every time you smile. Kinda takes my breath away.”
“Seymour, I…” Sariel’s eyes glowed, and he smiled warmly.
“Yup. See? Just like that.” Seymour smooched his cheek. “Now come here, I gotta put these damn pants back on.”
“Of course.”
Seymour leaned on Sariel to step into his jeans, his legs still a bit wobbly. He checked his pockets to make sure everything was there. He tried to smooth a hand through his hair, and he could feel how flushed his face and neck were, as if he’d been out in the sun too long.
Definitely was gonna walk out of here looking like he’d just been righteously fucked.
Sariel, of course, was completely flawless.
Not even his tie was crooked.
Seymour hugged Sariel’s neck to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
Sariel’s wings fluttered, and he held Seymour close.
“Yup, definitely miss that,” Seymour murmured.
“What?”
“Kissin’ you.” Seymour cupped Sariel’s cheek. “Hard to make out when you’re a giant beautiful blob of angel.”
“Ah.” Sariel tilted his head. “Perhaps I can attempt to manifest a mouth.”
“That is only the second weirdest thing I’ve heard you say today.”
Sariel chuckled. “I am not sure if that means I should try being less or more weird.”
“Just be you, Daddy. That’s good enough for me.” Seymour kissed him once more, trying to resist letting it get too heated. “Mmm, we should go check in and see if Day’s come back for her ten million steaks or whatever.”
“Of course.”
Arm in arm, they headed back to the table, and Sariel’s smile was unusually smug.
Good.
Sariel deserved to feel confident about himself—especially after that epic pounding.
Day was just hopping back into her seat when they arrived, and she waved excitedly. “You won’t believe what I found!”
“Uh, a flying pony that poops out a rainbow of money every time it sneezes?” Seymour suggested as he sat.
“No!”
“What about a dinosaur that plays the harmonica?”
Sariel grinned, taking his chair on the other side. “Perhaps a sphinx who does not enjoy riddles?” He giggled. “Can you imagine?”
Seymour snorted out a laugh. “Nope. Sure can’t.”
Day rolled her eyes. “No!” She reached into the folds of her kimono to reveal a clear crystal. It resembled a chunk of raw quartz roughly the size of a baseball, but it was glowing softly. There was also a small white object inside of it.
“What the fuck is that?” Seymour squinted. “A piece of seashell? A broken vase?”
“It appears quite old.” Sariel frowned slightly. “Where did you find it?”
“Under the stage!” Day purred happily. “It was hidden behind a magical shield, but I could see right through it! It seemed very suspicious.” She wiggled the crystal, and it glowed brighter. “Whoever placed it there clearly did not want anyone to find it.”
“Huh. Okay. And you did how?”
“The magic used to hide it only keeps creatures rooted to this plane of existence at bay.”
“Translation?”
“I’m a ghost, silly. I’m not rooted to this plane.”
“Right.” Seymour gave the crystal another long look. “So, suspicious magical doodad that was hidden very well—”
“Except for ghosts!” Day chimed in with a cheerful grin.
“Yeah, but…” Seymour scratched at his stubble. “What is it?”
“I do not know.” Sariel lifted his head to gaze out across the bar. “Perhaps we should ask Dagobert. This is his establishment after all. If it is not his artifact, I am sure he would want to know about it being hidden on his property by potentially unknown persons.”
“Oh! I saw him!” Day exclaimed.
“Saw who?”
“The persons who left it there!” Day’s ear twitched. “Well, possibly.” She pointed toward the back of the stage. “Access to the area beneath the stage can be reached behind those curtains! There is a small door, and I didn’t know what it was, but someone came out right as I was trying to go in.”
“Did you get a good look at ’em?” Seymour asked.
“Only a glance.” Day fidgeted a bit. “Because I was trying to pass through the door, he walked right through me.” She shuddered. “Ugh. It was not a pleasant experience, and it can be a tad disorienting. I was also more interested in what was under the stage once I saw the light of the crystal.”
“Big guy? Small?”
“Definitely big. Wearing something dark? Maybe a suit? There was a white flower in his lapel. I think it was a lily. Oh, and horns!” Day purred. “He definitely had horns. Hmm, and his skin was blue or maybe—”
“Purple?” Sariel cut in.
“Yes!” Day blinked. “How did you know?”
Sariel had frozen. His smile vanished, and his halo flickered wildly.
He looked…
Scared?
Pissed off?
Fuckin’ something.
“What’s wrong?” Seymour followed Sariel’s gaze, and he grimaced when he recognized the source of Sariel’s discomfort.
It was Mr. Heiss.
“Fuck me runnin’,” Seymour muttered. “What the hell is he doin’ here?”
“I do not know.” Sariel remained tense. “He does not seem to be in a good mood.”
Indeed, Mr. Heiss had his brow pinched and lips puckered up like a cat’s ass. He was exiting the lounge area in the back of the club, searching for something, though Seymour had no idea what.
Or who.
“That’s him!” Day whispered frantically, ducking behind Seymour. It must have been out of instinct, as there was no way Mr. Heiss could actually see her, and she hissed as she peeked out from behind Seymour’s shoulder. “Yes, that’s definitely him! That’s the man I saw leaving the stage!”
“He wasn’t here before,” Seymour said quickly. “He musta come in, uh, you know.” He coughed. “While we were, ahem, occupied.”
Sariel flinched. “Yes. That is it. Occupied.”
“Yup. Ocupado.”
“Why are you saying it all weird?” Day looked between them and then suddenly made a face. “Ew! Forget it.”
“We occupied with a perfectly normal—”
“No! I do not want to know. I might die again.”
“Hey, hey,” Seymour whispered. “Stop it. He’s comin’ this way.”
Mr. Heiss walked toward them, but he seemed to look right past Sariel and Seymour.
That was weird.
Sariel exchanged a confused glance with Seymour, and he slowly rose from the table when Mr. Heiss came by. “Mr. Heiss?”
“What?” Mr. Heiss jumped as if startled and gawked at Sariel without recognition for a long, awkward moment. “Ah! Wait. Yes. My angel. Hello, Sariel.”
Sariel frowned. “Are you all right, master? You appear troubled.”
“Me? Oh, I’m fine.” Mr. Heiss smiled. “Totally fine.” He cleared his throat and pointed at Sariel’s seat. “You. Go on and sit back down. Right now.”
Sariel tilted his head.
“Did you hear me?” Mr. Heiss demanded, his tone much firmer now. “I gave you an order. Sit down, angel.”
Sariel narrowed his eyes and slowly said, “No.”
“No?”
“No?” Seymour echoed, now up on his feet.
“No,” Sariel confirmed.
Seymour had no idea what the hell Sariel was up to, but there had to be a good reason he was disobeying Mr. Heiss. Seymour knew from personal experience that being snarky with a demon didn’t end well, so Seymour had to hope Sariel knew what the hell he was doing.
Maybe the orgasms had rewired his brain or something.
“What the fuck, Sariel?” Seymour asked out of the side of his mouth.
Sariel scowled. “This is not Mr. Heiss.”
“Huh?”
“I know my master, and I am telling you that is an imposter.”