Chapter 47 Cradled in the Wings of Love #2
I drop my towel to the floor, then jerk the towel from his hips.
Oliver narrows his gaze, but I just smile sweetly, innocently up at him.
I step back, making my way to the far wall where I notice a painting of a man who looks a lot like Oliver.
The man looks out of a different time, refined, wearing over-the-top blue satin brocade.
His hair is down, long and ebony-black, just like Oliver’s, but his eyes are molten gold.
There’s something mischievous in those eyes. I get trapped in them.
As I watch, the painting changes, flowers blooming around the man, happily bobbing in a breeze that can’t exist. The man turns toward me and smiles with a devious grin.
I back away, afraid of what I’m seeing. “Oliver,” I gasp, my heart speeding up as the painting beckons me with fingers that move in a come-hither motion.
“Oliver,” I gasp again. I’m afraid if I look away it’ll disappear.
“Vale, what is it?”
“Do ghosts live in your paintings?”
I feel Oliver move around me as I stare at it. The man inside the painting changes. His eyes get heavy as he studies my naked body. I cover my breasts with one arm and cover my pussy with the other.
Look how pretty you are, a deeply accented voice rumbles inside my head.
Move your hands, let me see you, it hums, and when I search the painting, the man has his hand over his cock, rubbing over the stiff length while he smiles wickedly.
He’s a rakish beauty. The kind of man you know will ruin you in the most amazing of ways, just like Oliver.
“Ghosts?” Oliver questions. “Oddly, I don’t believe any ghosts are in this house, but perhaps I’m wrong.”
“Who is that man in the painting?” I ask as it changes once more and the silk-clad gentleman grows larger.
What the fuck? Huge, feathered wings flare out and up behind his back.
He morphs into a huge demon. Thick horns grow, curling back from his temples like a crown.
Suddenly the sharp tips shine with the bright light that expands above his head.
I squint my eyes as it almost blinds me.
Those eyes shine like melted gold, swirling with a familiar darkness I’ve seen inside Oliver.
His body still grows across the canvas, his skin turning a deep shade of darkness.
The absolute lack of light is in deep contrast to the halo that glows brightly above his head.
The clothing melts like wax from a candle, and he’s exposed, completely nude.
A violent desire blooms and throbs between my legs as I watch.
He’s beautiful just like Oliver. It hurts my eyes to look at him.
You sure are pretty when you’re turned on. I can see your pussy dripping from here. I like that, he moans into my brain, then suddenly I feel fingertips all over me. It’s as if a thousand hands caress every inch of my skin. I feel them everywhere.
“Fuck!” I gasp. “Oliver, who is that?” I ask again, but it’s like I’m in a bubble and he can’t hear me. My eyes can’t escape the demon in the painting.
Every inch of my skin is set alight and I moan. It feels so good. I know it’ll only be seconds before he makes me come. This is bad. I feel so guilty, though I don’t know how to stop it. “Oliver!” I cry out and try to look away. I can’t though, I’m enthralled by him.
My body is lifted into the air, and I’m slammed up against the opposite wall.
My legs are spread wide around familiar hips.
Oliver enters my body all at once, slamming into me.
My head slams back against the wall. With Oliver touching me, I’m able to close my eyes and finally break contact with the painting.
“Dammit, Vale! I want to be good for you, but you’re so fucking wet,” he growls against my ear. “I can’t help myself. I can’t get enough. I’ll never stop wanting you.”
His hips thrust faster, his cock spearing me as the demon’s laughter fills my head. I try hard to ignore it. My muscles flutter over Oliver, ready to come as he bottoms out inside me over and over again.
“You feel so good, baby. Never had better,” Oliver groans as he bites my neck, and I fly apart, screaming with the sudden overload of pleasure. I come so hard.
When I open my eyes the energy inside me grows, swelling with the orgasm that lingers.
I force it into Oliver and feel him spilling inside me even as the demon winks at me with a knowing grin.
The demon laughs and the painting morphs back to the rakishly handsome man in the colorful satin brocade.
Once again, he looks like Oliver, but it can’t be, it’s something else. I wasn’t hallucinating, was I?
“I love you,” Oliver whispers into the sensitive skin of the crook of my neck. He drops me and my feet hit the floor. My legs wobble as his cum spills down my inner thighs.
“I think there’s a demon in your painting. Who is it?” I ask. But this time the painting doesn’t move, it’s back to normal.
“Oh, it’s my grandfather. That’s Asmodeus, he’s an archdemon in Hell,” he explains.
My head slings to the side, and I look up at Oliver. “That’s your . . . Asmodeus is your grandfather! He just, he just, I felt him all over me. Oliver, I . . . ” I don’t have the words. I’m disgusted with myself.
“He likes to play pranks, sweetheart. I’m surprised it took him this long to fuck with you.” Oliver reaches out for me. “Don’t be scared. He won’t hurt you.”
“I thought he was going to fuck me,” I blurt out, and that laughter fills my head again. He’s still there, somewhere.
“What?” I can tell he’s angry because of the frown on his face as he searches the landing. He grabs the towel and thrusts it at my chest.
“Is your grandfather a Lilu?” I ask as the demon chuckles again.
I’m not a Lilu. Oh, Vale, I’m so much more, he says, laughter in his voice. I feel a finger press to my lower lip. I pull away from the feeling, wrapping the towel around me tightly. This being shouldn’t see me like this.
“No, he isn’t. I’m not sure how to explain what he is.
He’s the manifestation of lust. Fuck, I don’t know exactly.
You’d call him a demon but he’s actually—” Oliver’s cut off by the glass in the ornate frame cracking.
“He doesn’t want me to say. Come out if you want to talk to Vale.
Don’t scare my mate!” Oliver yells, his voice loud in the enclosed space.
“Your mate?” The voice booms in my ears. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see the day, Ash. I apologize for my behavior, sweet Vale. Worry not, princess, I’ll leave you in peace.”
Oliver laughs. “Yeah right. Why are you here, old man?”
I search the landing, then look back at the painting.
Where is he? Does Oliver normally have discussions with the disembodied voice of a demon?
No wonder kids thought this house was haunted.
“Where are you?” I ask the demon, my hackles raised as if he’s going to burst out of the wall that holds his likeness.
“Firstly, I came to see your mother, but she isn’t home.
Second, I’m everywhere, all the time, all at once.
” Asmodeus continues to laugh like this is a funny situation.
“I’ll be in the kitchen with breakfast,” he says, his voice not nearly as loud as before.
Thank goodness because I was worried it would burst my eardrums.
I start to walk back up the stairs, but Oliver grabs my wrist before I can get more than two steps.
I turn back to look at him, and he shakes his head.
“I need clothes before I meet—” I say, but then suddenly there’s an audible snap.
Silk slides over my breasts, falling to my knees.
I suck in a deep breath as it slides over my nipples like a warm caress.
My eyes get wide as I look at Oliver, who's now wearing a pair of black silk pants that match my gown.
“What the fuck?” I gasp as the gown tightens at my back.
“He’s a fan of the theatrics. I’m sorry,” Oliver says as he reaches up to my cheek. “Don’t be afraid. This is a world you’ll need to get used to. Suspend your disbelief for a little while. I promise he won’t harm you.”
I step closer to him. “I felt him touch me. It was . . . ” I try to explain as he caresses my cheek.
“Don’t be ashamed of how he makes you feel. Most can’t help it. He’s not human, not at all,” he says. “Stay with me. Don’t be alone with him.”
“Alright,” I whisper, then he grabs my hand and I follow him down the stairs.
Oliver straightens his back before he opens the door into the kitchen. Bright light cascades into the dark stairwell, and I have to squint my eyes. He pulls me behind him as we enter the room. I didn’t know what to expect but the light is giving me a headache.
“Tone it down a bit,” Oliver groans, and I realize it isn’t the sun. The light is coming from Asmodeus.
“Oops,” he says with a jovial chuckle. “Forgive me.”
The light dims, and I blink, trying to focus my eyes. Across the room, the demon stands on the opposite side of the long, stone island. He doesn’t look like a demon. He looks like a young man, like he could be Oliver’s brother. Now he’s the beautiful young man in the painting.
There’s something too perfect about the way he looks though.
His features are perfectly symmetrical—fake.
It has to be an illusion. I’d seen the night-skinned demon in the painting.
I’d seen the horns that’d sprouted from his head like a crown.
I felt his power slide across my flesh. I knew this vision was false.
It irritated me, tickling at my brain, setting my body on high alert.
My muscles tense as if at any moment I’d have to fight my way out of the room.
“See something you like?” he asks and my cheeks flush and my heartbeat speeds up.
“Don’t tease her,” Oliver says as I cling to his arm.
The demon smiles brightly at me, fangs on display. “I won’t hurt her, Ash. She’s just curious. Isn’t that right, Vale?”
I think long and hard before I speak. As beautiful as he is, as familiar as he seems, he’s hiding something from me.
My body responds, overwhelmed. I don’t know whether I want to run away, stay and fight, or fuck him.
I hate it. My body aches in a way it’s only ached for Oliver.
The sensations conjured, make me feel guilty, like I’m cheating.
It doesn’t matter that it’s due to his power.
I feel guilty all the same, for the throb between my legs.
“Show me who you truly are,” I demand with a scowl.
His smile vanishes. “Is that an order? I do love it so when women boss me around.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s only a request, but one that would make me feel better. I think this”—I wave a hand around—“is all a lie. So I request you show me the truth because you’re fucking with my head.”
“Please don’t. She’s mortal, only human,” Oliver says, and I let his hand go, looking up at him with anger in my eyes. That hurt.
“It’s fine, I’ll give her a show. Will you escort her into the library, son?”
Asmodeus walks away, stomping off through the pocket doors like he’s angry with me, but even that feels like a lie, like he’s putting on an act. Oliver takes my hand, but I pull away, shaking my head.
“I may be human, but I’m not weak. I might not be as strong as you, but I’m not weak. I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t like it when you said it that way. Mortal or not, I need to see the truth because something he’s doing doesn’t feel right. It’s hurting my head.”
“I’m sorry. I had no intention of making you feel less than. I don’t think you are. I told you, he’s lust. He isn’t the same as mother or me. He affects people differently. He’s trying to look human for you, to ease you,” he says. He steps forward and wraps his arms around me. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you, but something isn’t right. I need to see this through,” I try to explain, but he doesn’t get it. This isn’t my world, it’s his, and he’s used to it.
“I don’t have all day,” Asmodeus’s voice booms through the house, making me wince.
I rush toward the pocket doors, letting go of Oliver’s hand as I walk down the hall into the library. The demon stands under the massive dome, but he looks the same as before.
“Are you ready for this?” he asks with a familiar smirk. I don’t know why that expression eases me, but it does. Maybe it’s the dimples on his cheeks, just like his grandson’s.
I nod my head. “Probably not, but show me anyway,” I respond with plenty of snark, matching his tone.