Chapter 23 – Ithuriel
Paris
S ariel hovers over the unconscious mortal whose flesh cleared up the moment we left the Malebolge.
Once we got to the other side, he said: “That’s the Eiffel Tower, you dolt, how did you not know this is Paris?” Perhaps I knew it, perhaps I didn’t. He then proceeded to instruct me to return to my mortal form and, after we easily closed the rift which remained invisible to the human eye for years, led me to the apartment he keeps in Montmartre. Likely for its proximity to the Moulin Rouge.
“Why isn’t she waking up?” he asks now, standing next to the bed where the mortal lies, his hands on his hips.
“Her body went through a lot and, unlike me, she didn’t get a burst of power just by leaving Hell.” I place my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it gently. “We washed her, we helped her take some water. Let her rest and recover from the ordeal.”
He turns slowly and his downcast eyes rise to meet mine. “You’re sure she’ll be okay?”
I slide my trembling hand down to his waist. I never touched anyone like this before, casual yet proprietary. He might own me, but I own him as well, whether he knows it or not.
“I know it,” I finally answer his question.
“Itha…” he begins. “You gave up everything you are for her.”
I’m shaking my head before he even finishes his thought. “I gave up half of what I am for the both of you. The other half died when you left me.” I tilt my head. “By my calculations, with the two of you, I’m now finally whole.”
Silver tears well up in Sariel’s eyes and his lower lip twitches before he digs his teeth into it to keep it still. A primal instinct takes over and I use my thumb to release the tortured flesh. My eyes locked on his endless ones, I bring my thumb to my mouth and lick off his saliva, eliciting a shuddering moan from my… lover. No longer merely a friend.
My manhood hardens at the thought, and I grab his waist firmly with both hands before pulling him flush against my body. With a sigh, I capture his lips with mine. Firm, but yielding, they glide against mine for a moment, before they part and allow me to conquer his mouth.
His hands dig into my behind as he insistently tugs me closer, rhythmically grinding our pelvises together to the same beat as the battle between our tongues. He then walks us to the other side of the bed, pushes me down onto the soft mattress, and follows.
“What are we doing?” I ask breathlessly, my eyes swinging between the male above me and the sleeping female at my side.
Not immediately answering, Sariel leans back and tugs off his vest. I’m already in my linen underclothes, having not bothered to put the plate armor on after we cleaned ourselves. His muscular chest, lovingly illuminated by the moonlight from the window, begs for my touch.
“What we should have done a thousand years ago,” he finally murmurs, before capturing my mouth and trailing his down my chin, over my jaw, and to my neck, where he gently sucks on my skin. “You’re going to make love to me.”
I shudder as his words penetrate me and sink in, feeling so right. I was blind, but now I see. This is my future, the people in this bed, they were always meant to share it.
“Show me how,” I moan, massaging the nape of his head and pressing him against my chest.
He lifts his gaze to smirk at me. “I’ll show you everything. And together we’ll make this girl the happiest female in every realm.”
I gaze at the sleeping beauty, my lips curling into a smile of contentment. Then a thought hits me and I gasp.
“What is it?” Sariel asks and when I turn back to him, wide-eyed, I see he’s frowning with concern.
“When I made love to Jessica in the bolgia… we… culminated.”
His frown turns into a wild grin. “Yes, yes you did.”
I shake my head impatiently. “No, I mean… we mated.”
Sariel’s eyes narrow before he rolls them at me. “For the love of cinnamony French toast, Itha – just say you gave her a creampie.”
Heat spreads over my chest and up my neck before reaching my cheeks. “I finished inside her, we did not use any of the mortals’ protection methods.”
“Oh.” He bites his lower lip. “Oh,” he groans again, thrusting against me. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna come in my pants if I keep thinking of our baby inside her.” He shakes his head as if to clear it of the thoughts, but now they’ve gone to mine, and my member twitches, wetness dribbling out of the tip.
“Our baby?” I ask on a moan. “It would not matter to you who the father is?”
“Fuck no,” he breathes. “I’ve just decided she’s gonna be pregnant every year and may the best love juice win. I fully intend on giving Uncle Asmo a run for his money in the baby-making department.” He leans down and takes my nipple into his mouth. My head falls back on a groan. “I hope she’s already pregnant,” he finishes when he stops the torture to my areola.
“Me too,” I voice my blasphemous wish. I want to be tied to her forever.
“For now, though,” he says, then flips us over until I’m on top. Our clothes disappear. “Practice making babies on me.”
My now naked cock spurts more fluid between our bodies. Why are his crass words so arousing?
Sariel leans over to the nightstand and opens the drawer. He produces a shiny bottle, shakes it, uncaps it, and pours the contents into his waiting palm. With a lascivious look, he holds my gaze and brings the hand to my penis. As the liquid hits my erect manhood, my back arches uncontrollably.
“W–what’s that for?” I ask, stuttering.
The Fallen smirks. “Well, unfortunately, males don’t self-lubricate. But if we did, trust me, I’d be wet for you.”
“I–I know that,” I mutter, the impact of the words diminished by my continued stutter as his hand wraps around me and he starts spreading the viscous lubricant over every inch of my manhood. I can’t help thrusting up into his grip. “But I will be the one to…” I trail off.
“Fuck me, Itha? Yes.”
My stomach clenches at the thought of taking possession of him like that. I know I should think it’s wrong, God, I do.
Seemingly satisfied with the state of my member, Sariel pushes me away until he can lift both of his legs up, exposing his back entrance to me. I swallow convulsively at the sight of the tight, puckered hole. I knew how men showed other men their love, but never gave thought to how it must feel for them to see their partners in such a way. To sink into them and find pleasure in their bodies.
“You’re gonna have to prep me.”
I blink at Sariel. “I don’t know how.”
He beckons for my hand. Once I extend it, he places the bottle onto my palm. “Drizzle it over my hole, then press it in.”
I shake my head, looking at the bottle like it might bite me. “What if I hurt you?” I ask, my voice shaky.
The rascal smirks. “I can take it.”
Blowing out a great gust of air, I finally uncap the bottle and tip it over his exposed privates. It drizzles over his throbbing penis, tight balls, and down the crack of his ass to my destination. Once he’s covered, I carefully close the bottle, buying myself time, and place it on the nightstand. With one more deep breath, I extend a finger to the tight ring, under his patient gaze. I test the give, then carefully press inside. Sariel grunts and I pull back.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, holding my hand in front of my chest like it’s a beast that needs to be controlled.
“Hell no,” he groans. “Do it again. Add a finger. Add two.”
My eyes widen at his request. Hesitantly, I return to my task and reinsert the first one, then add the other like he wanted. It’s so tight. How will my manhood fit in here?
My question must be written on my face because he answers it: “It’s gonna fit, Starlight. It was made for it.”
I nearly bowl over with the punch of lust to my stomach at hearing those words. I add a third finger with more confidence, stretching his hole for me.
“Is that okay?” I ask, slowly pumping my fingers in and out.
“Ugh, fuck, yes, fuck,” he replies and the corners of my lips tilt up. I feel so powerful in this moment. “Get in there,” he whines and my mouth splits with a full-blown smile. He wants this, he wants me .
Positioning myself over him, I grab my slicked-up member and place the tip at the tight rosebud. “You are certain?” I ask, unable to completely banish all my self-doubt.
In answer, Sariel lets go of his thighs and grabs my behind, pulling me to him until the tip of my cock slides home.
“Mmm,” we both moan, him deeper, mine coming out more high-pitched. This is the second time I enter a lover’s hot body, but it feels so different from making love to Jessica. I’m scared. Scared of hurting him, scared of what I’m feeling. This is Sariel underneath me, taking me inside him. My Sariel.
“My Sariel,” I say out loud, unable to hold it in. I slide an inch deeper.
“My Itha,” he replies, pulling my face down for a soft kiss. As he does, my cock bottoms out in his ass and he hisses against my lips. “Mmm, so fucking good,” he grunts. “You’re perfect, Itha,” he praises me next.
I’m trembling, overwhelmed by our connection and by the sensations originating in my groin. Our tongues clash as I instinctively begin moving in a dance as old as time, claiming my love. My sack hits his round ass each time I bottom out, and each time I pull out I feel the tight ring of his opening milking me. I don’t think I’ll last long.
Just as I have the thought, Sar speaks up. “Change your angle. Fuck, that’s it, just like that. Faster,” he commands.
“I’m… close,” I grit through clenched teeth.
My words are followed by a muffled moan to my right. Our eyes turn and we take in Jessica, one hand covering her mouth, the other between her legs. “Don’t stop,” she breathes after removing her hand. “I’m so close too.”
“You’re both so fucking hot,” Sariel growls, then digs his hands into my flesh, urging me on.
Less than a dozen pumps later, I’m keening into Sariel’s wide-open mouth as my spend floods his tight tunnel. I feel Sariel erupting between our bodies, deep growls leaving his throat in time with the spurts of liquid. Jessica sobs at our sides, chanting our names as she rides her own climax.
“Welcome… to the city of love,” Sariel says haltingly between ragged breaths.