29. Diablos #2
“Oh, you want to see torture? This is nothing, my dear.”
He twisted one of my nipples, and I moaned. When his tongue swept across the other, I choked on a gasp.
“Dagon… Oh, fuck.”
I tried to thrust my cock forward, but he caught my hips and pinned me in place, continuing his slow, maddening touches.
“Dagon, I swear-” I didn’t finish my words.
Dagon dropped to his knees, eyes locked on mine as water beat down his back.
Something in the air shifted.
He was still in human form. His eyes still dark gray, not yet purple. But the way he looked up at me from his knees was no longer playful. It was appraising. Like a man who had spent eight years asking permission to want things, and was about to stop asking.
“Tell me what you want,” Dagon commanded.
“There it is. My sexy demon’s voice.”
“You like my voice like this?”
The smirk he gave me was devious and proud.
“Fuck, yes. I do.”
“Tell me, what do you want?”
“You. I want your mouth on my cock. Right now.”
Where the hell had that confidence come from?
“Your command is my wish. But remember. You've got a demon on his knees… and demons always take, even when they give.”
My whole body lit up just from those words. My heart pounded with anticipation and need.
Dagon’s lips wrapped around my cock, and my brain went blissfully blank. Fireworks lit every nerve. His fingers gripped my ass in a bruising hold, and I choked on air.
I couldn't wait. I thrust into his mouth, and Dagon snapped.
In the next breath, his wings burst free, horns curling from his head, and oh boy, did I touch. Thank fuck the bathroom was made to accommodate demons with wings.
The growl that left Dagon when I touched his wings sent pulses through my cock, and I had to hold back from coming. I wanted to prolong the sensations of his mouth surrounding my cock and his tongue eliciting fire over me.
“Dagon,” I screamed.
I wouldn’t last. I wouldn’t.
He hummed, lips still wrapped around me, tongue working me like I was his favorite flavor.
Without thinking, I grabbed his horns and started thrusting deep into his mouth. Fast. Brutal. Desperate. More. Fucking more.
“I need you. Fuck, Dagon, I need you so much. You’re mine. Mine. Always.”
All of me broke open. I couldn't stop the words from spilling out.
He groaned, loud and long. His grip on my ass tightened, and he trailed a wet finger over my hole. That was it. My body snapped. I came with a cry, his name on my lips, my hands still locked around his horns. I felt his shudder beneath me.
And then… fuck. He came. Without touching himself.
The sight alone sent another shiver of pleasure through my body and cock.
I stumbled when he pulled away. My feet were unsteady, and my vision was blurry, but I still saw the look in Dagon’s eyes. Wild. Predatory. Starved.
I was fascinated by the danger, the lust in his eyes, the throbbing in his jaw… He was like a hunter, and I was the prey.
His cock was still rock hard, and I licked my lips.
“What are you going to take, my demon?”
He didn't answer. Just grabbed my ass and pulled me into him. This was a side to Dagon I had never seen. There were no boundaries, no pretending, no holding back. I wanted my demon to unleash everything he had, and I wanted to be the one who took it all.
“On your knees,” he growled.
I fell to my knees the second he commanded it. It felt like we were playing a game of power exchange. But no, it was no game, it was reality.
“Hands.”
He didn’t need to elaborate. I raised my hands and he wrapped his fingers around my wrists, pressing them to the cold tile behind me. My back collided with the cold tiles, but I didn’t care. Dagon’s grip was strong, circling the edge of pain. Instead of being terrified, I craved more.
Dagon had me. All of me.
His hold was the chain around my hands, and I gladly submitted to him, to the feeling of letting go of my control and giving it all to him.
“Keep your lips closed,” he ordered.
I obeyed, lips pressed shut as he teased the seam with his cock. Precum painted my lips, and I ached to swipe my tongue over his length, to taste him, to have him fill my mouth.
With his free hand he twisted my nipple, then moved with maddening slowness across my jaw, my cheek, my neck. I begged him with my eyes.
And still, he kept me waiting.
“You look so perfect on your knees for me,” Dagon moaned.
“Demons always take, even when they give, and the demon inside me wants to take everything. To ravish you in ways you’ll never forget, to mark every inch of your skin so the world knows who you belong to.
To claim every hole and leave the memory of it etched into your body. ”
I whimpered through my sealed lips, telling him: yes, please. All of it.
His purple eyes darkened.
“You don’t understand, Di. I’m a creature of the darkness.
I’ve always been and always will be. I've buried parts of myself for so long, but I can’t do it anymore.
Can you take it? Can you embrace this hunger, the darkness, this possessiveness, this obsession I have with you that goes far beyond what’s normal in our world? ”
I didn't flinch. I didn't hesitate.
Instead, with a smirk and fire in my gaze, I swiped my tongue over the tip of his cock and moaned like a slut.
“Give it to me, my demon. I want it all.”
Nothing about his darkness scared me.
Dagon growled and shoved his cock between my lips. His grip on my wrists tightened, and his other hand cupped the back of my neck. His thrusts started hard, ruthless, then switched to slow, sensual ones. Then back again, a brutal rhythm of claim and tease.
He alternated between roughness and tenderness, and I loved every second of it
I couldn't touch him, so I gave myself over to the feeling, to the way he used my mouth like it was his.
“You belong to me, Diablos Hughes,” Dagon rasped, voice low and wrecked as our eyes met.
I moaned around him, and he tensed. A moment later, he pulled out and came over my face. I opened my mouth, desperate for the taste, and hummed when I got it.
Looking up at him, this magnificent, powerful demon, with his muscles taut, his wings spread wide, his horns curling upward, those violet eyes gleaming down at me…
I was his. Fully. Proudly.
Dagon dropped to his knees, cradled my hands, and kissed my wrists. Then, with slow reverence, he spread his release across my face and licked it clean.
“I love you,” he whispered.
My heart stuttered.
He'd said it before. In the car, that day his voice broke open and he told me about King. In our bed, the night he first sank into me with his eyes wet and our hands tangled.
But not like this.
Not on his knees, with my release on his mouth and his hands cradling my wrists like they were something holy.
Not in his demon form, with his wings spread wide and his horns gleaming and his eyes that violet I'd come to recognize as the truest version of him.
He had said it before as the man. He had not said it as the demon.
Until now.
Until he'd looked up at me – wrecked, sated, his hunger naked on his face – and given me the three words he had been giving me in softer rooms, in gentler positions, in moments I could explain away as tender.
This time there was nothing tender to hide behind.
This time he said it as what he was. As what he had always been.
As the dark thing on his knees who had just used me and was looking up at me like I had granted him salvation by letting him.
I love you in this form too, I understood him to mean. I love you with my hands around your wrists. I love you with my mouth tasting myself on your face. I love you as the creature I am, not the man I pretended to be for eight years.
I wanted to say it back. I wanted to drag him up by the horns and tell him I loved him exactly like this.
That I'd been waiting for him to stop apologizing for being made of darkness.
That I would meet him here, in this form, in this hunger, in this everything, every single time he wanted to be met.
Dagon didn't give me time to say it back. He kissed me deeply. All was right in the world. All was right as long as I had this precious man by my side. The man I loved more than anything. The man I would always love.
The man I would always love, in every form he took.