Chapter 20
ASMODEUS
Iwatch Simone's face as she gazes up at me, her gray eyes wide with wonder. I can still feel the tremors of her orgasm vibrating through her body as I hold her in my arms. The hunger for her hasn't diminished—if anything, it's intensified.
In all my countless years, I've never experienced anything like this. The act itself—the joining of bodies, the feeding—is something I’ve done more times than there are stars in the mortal sky.
I've had partners of every possible configuration, in numbers that would make even the most debauched mortal blush.
I've orchestrated orgies that lasted decades.
Yet here, with this one fragile half-blood nestled against me, I feel something entirely new.
“Are you alright?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed face.
She nods, her breath still coming in short gasps. “I'm... yes. More than alright.”
I press my lips to her forehead, tasting the salt of her sweat. Her orchid and vanilla scent has deepened, mixed now with the musk of our coupling. It's intoxicating.
“We should return home,” I murmur against her skin. “Unless you'd prefer to spend the night in the questionable ambience of Hell.”
Simone laughs softly. “I particularly like the ash particles catching the light.”
“They're interesting for the first couple of hundred years,” I concede with a smile. “Either way, I'd rather have you in our bed.”
Our bed. The possessiveness in my voice surprises even me. I never shared anything before, not even with my many children or their mothers. I gave them all their own possessions.
I rise to my feet, pulling her up with me.
As she adjusts her clothing, pulling on her pants and hiding her sweet cunt from my gaze, I debate how to transport her back to the manor.
We could walk, but it would take hours. I could use the ether, but she's not accustomed to it, and it might be painful for her.
“Simone,” I say, making a decision. “There's something I need to show you.”
She looks at me curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side. “What is it?”
I hesitate, but only for a moment, then I manifest my physical wings, shrugging my shoulders as they stretch to their full span.
Simone gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Az...”
“I can fly us back,” I say, watching her face carefully for signs of fear. “It will be faster.”
Instead of terror or revulsion, I see wonder bloom across her features. She steps closer, one hand tentatively reaching out before stopping, uncertain.
“Can I...?”
I nod, extending my left wing toward her. Her fingers are gentle as they trace the edge of a primary feather, sending a shiver down my spine.
“They're beautiful,” she whispers. “I knew you had wings. I mean, you used the feather.” Her cheeks turn red with embarrassment as she thinks of what I did with that feather.
Where I had it. “And I kind of remember you flying me to the cave, though I thought I was hallucinating. But seeing them this close…”
“Very few do,” I say simply, winking at her. It’s the truth—physical wings just slow those of us who can travel through the ether down, so we mostly keep them hidden. “Are you ready?”
Without waiting for an answer, I scoop her into my arms. She squeaks in surprise, her arms automatically wrapping around my neck. With a powerful downstroke, we're airborne, rising above the scorched desert floor.
Simone clings to me, her face buried against my chest at first. But as we soar higher, she gradually relaxes, turning her head to take in the view.
“Incroyable,” she breathes, her eyes wide as she watches the landscape unfold below us. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the only incredible thing in sight.
Once she’s done taking in Hell from above, Simone reaches out, running her fingers along the edge of my wing, making me shiver.
“They change colors in the light,” she observes, mesmerized by the shifting indigo hues. “Like a raven's feathers, but... more intense. More alive.”
I tighten my grip on her, enjoying her fascination. “They serve their purpose,” I say with a smirk. And right now they seem to be—as my nephew would say—scoring points with her.
We fly over the Lethe, its silver waters glimmering below us. In the distance, the mansion I had made for her comes into view, its dark stone walls standing stark against the verdant landscape surrounding it.
“Almost there,” I murmur, vowing to take her on more flights.
When we land on the balcony outside our bedroom, I'm reluctant to set her down. Having her in my arms, feeling her heartbeat against my chest—it's now become precious to me in ways I can't articulate.
Once inside, I fold my wings back, but don't conceal them entirely. Simone watches the movement, her eyes tracking each ripple of muscle and feather.
“Will you keep them out?” she asks softly. “Just for tonight?”
Something in her voice makes my chest tighten. “If that's what you wish.”
Unwilling to be away from her now that she’s finally mine, I pull her to me, kissing her deeply. Her body melts against mine, soft where I’m hard, yielding where I’m unyielding.
As our mouths mate, I start undressing her, reverently removing each piece of clothing. Once she's bare, I remove my own, eager to feel her naked against me. When her chest presses against mine, I growl into her mouth. My already granite-hard cock twitches against her belly.
“Az,” she whispers against my lips, her voice hesitant. “Would you... I mean, could we...”
I pull back slightly, curious about her sudden shyness. “What is it, little fairy?”
She bites her lower lip, her cheeks flushing. “Would you tie me up again? Like before, with the ropes?”
The request surprises me, though perhaps it shouldn't. The day I introduced her to shibari had clearly been memorable for us both.
“You want me to bind you?” I ask, though a savage part of me doesn't want to ask for confirmation. It wants to take whatever she'll give to us.
Simone nods, her eyes meeting mine with unexpected courage. “I want to feel what I felt before... but more.”
I brush my thumb across her cheek, sensing the complex emotions beneath her request. There's desire there, yes, but also something deeper—a need to heal old wounds.
I can sense the ghosts of her past hovering around her, though I’m loath to imagine men who used her body, who took without giving, who treated her beauty as a commodity rather than a gift.
I don't know the specifics of her trauma, but I can feel its echoes in the way she flinches from sudden movements, in the wariness that still shadows her eyes, in the way she was afraid when I raised my voice earlier.
“I'll always give you what you need,” I say, pushing my baffling emotions to the side and kissing her forehead.
Minutes later, she's laid out on our bed, her wrists bound above her head, intricate patterns of white silk rope crossing her torso and thighs. The contrast against her skin is stunning—she looks like an offering to a deity, which, in a way, she is. I always did consider myself a kind of god.
I take my time with her, worshipping every inch of her body with my hands and mouth. When I finally enter her, our eyes lock, and I'm startled to see tears glistening in hers.
“Simone?” I pause, concerned. “Fuck. Did I hurt you, little fairy?”
She shakes her head, a tear spilling down her cheek. “No... It's not that. When we were out there in Hell, I was just thinking about the pleasure. It was incredible, but it was... physical. Just my body responding to yours.”
I remain still inside her, waiting for her to continue, even if all I want to do is lose myself inside her.
“But now,” she whispers, her voice breaking, “now I'm letting myself feel everything. Not just the pleasure, but... the connection. I've never felt safe enough before to just... feel.”
Her words pierce something in the center of my chest—something I thought had calcified eons ago.
“Feel, then,” I murmur, beginning to move. “Feel everything, little fairy. I have you.”
As we move together, building toward release, I'm struck by a troubling thought. Sooner or later, I'll need to tell her who—what—I really am. Not a fallen angel's son, but Asmodeus, the son of Lilith and Samael, Archdemon of Lust, one of the ancient rulers of Hell.
Will she look at me with the same wonder then? Will she still surrender herself to me so completely? Or will those expressive gray eyes fill with horror and betrayal?
The thought sends a surge of possessiveness through me, and I drive deeper into her, as if I could somehow bind her soul to mine through the physical act alone.
“Az,” she gasps, her inner walls clenching around me as she approaches her climax.
“I'm here,” I promise, cupping her face. “Let go, Simone. I've got you.”
She shatters beneath me, her back arching as much as the ropes allow, her mouth open in a silent cry. I follow her over the edge, pouring myself into her, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.
As we lie together afterward, her head on my chest, my wings curled around us both, I make a silent vow. I will tell her the truth, but not yet. Not until I'm certain she won't flee from me in terror. Not until I'm certain she's as bound to me as I've somehow become to her.
For now, I'll be content with this—with her soft breath against my skin, with the way she nestles closer, seeking my warmth. With the knowledge that, for right now at least, she's chosen to be mine.