Chapter 21
ASMODEUS
The manor echoes with Simone's laughter as she chases me through the hallway.
We were working out—something that often leads to us being sweaty and naked—when I pushed her too far with my teasing and she threatened me with violence.
She feels lighter these past months, more confident in her movements.
More confident around me. Her hair streams behind her like a dark chocolate river, and I let her catch me, spinning around just in time to feel her crash into my chest.
“Got you,” she pants, eyes sparkling with triumph.
“You certainly do.” My fingers brush her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. The now-familiar flutter in my chest intensifies when she leans into my touch.
It's been months since she tried to escape, since I found her wandering back toward me in the ashen wastes, since I claimed her body and she claimed something else from me entirely. Something I didn't know I had to give.
I've lived for millennia, bedded countless beings, sired hundreds of children… yet I've never felt this constant, gnawing need to be near someone. To see her smile. To hear her voice.
She's turned my world inside out, this little Cambion.
“What are you thinking about?” Simone steps back, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Dinner. It's almost time.”
It's become our ritual, these nightly feasts. I used to dine with generals and spymasters, planning conquests or settling territorial disputes. Now I find myself anticipating these quiet moments with Simone more than any diversion Hell could offer.
“I should shower first.” She gestures to her workout clothes. “I'm all sweaty from our little chase.”
Smirking, I eye her up and down. “I prefer you sweaty.”
Her cheeks flush that delicate pink I've come to crave. “You would.” She pokes my chest playfully. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
I watch her retreat up the stairs, her hips swaying in a way that makes my mouth go dry. Once, I would have fed on dozens at my orgies, drawing sustenance from the lust and pleasure of all participants. Now I feed exclusively from her—her desire, her satisfaction, her surrender.
The hunger that once drove me to seek countless partners has narrowed to a pinpoint focused solely on Simone. This dependency should terrify me. Instead, I find myself savoring the unique flavor of her pleasure like a fine wine I have no desire to dilute.
With a thought, I transport myself to the dining room. Tonight's table is set with black candles and crystal goblets filled with a vintage Amontillado that cost a fortune in the human world. Not that money means anything to me. As far as I know, I have more than any human can fathom.
I adjust the silverware, ensuring everything is perfectly aligned. Forneus has outdone himself with tonight's menu—I can smell the truffle risotto, the butter-poached lobster, the chocolate soufflé waiting in the kitchen.
My fingers trace the outline of the small box in my pocket.
Inside rests a necklace of black diamonds set in platinum, crafted by a jeweler in Paris who doesn't realize his most valued client is an archdemon.
I've been giving Simone jewels since her days in the cave, but lately I've noticed she rarely wears them.
Perhaps this one will be different.
The door opens and Simone enters, dressed in a simple emerald dress that hugs her curves. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, still damp from her shower, and I detect the faint scent of orchids clinging to her skin.
“This looks amazing.” She takes her seat as I push in her chair. “You didn't need to go all out.”
“I always go all out for you, little fairy.”
Her lips curl at the corners. “I've noticed.”
I pour the sherry into her glass, enjoying the way the light catches in the amber liquid. “A toast,” I propose, raising my own glass. “To unexpected pleasures.”
Her eyes meet mine over the rim of her crystal goblet. “To unexpected pleasures.”
The sherry slides down my throat, warm and nutty. I watch as Simone takes a sip, her tongue darting out to catch a drop from her lower lip. Even this small gesture sends desire coursing through me. We've hardly sat down and my cock is already hard for her. It's ridiculous how easily she affects me.
“I have something for you.” I reach into my pocket, pulling out the velvet box.
Simone's expression shifts, her eyes narrowing slightly before she smiles again. “Another gift?”
“Open it.”
She takes the box, fingers tracing the velvet before slowly lifting the lid. The black diamonds catch the candlelight, scattering it across her face in fractured beams.
“Az...” She lifts the necklace from its cushion. “It's extraordinary.”
“Do you like it?” I lean forward, studying her reaction.
“It's beautiful.” Her voice is soft, measured. She carefully sets the necklace back in its box. “Thank you.”
I frown. This isn't the reaction I wanted to see. “You don't seem pleased, little fairy.”
“I am.” She pauses, smoothing her napkin across her lap. “It's just...”
“Just what?”
Simone takes a deep breath, pushing her plate aside to lean her elbows on the table. “You've given me so much, Az. The manor, the clothes, the jewelry… more luxury than anyone could dream of.”
“And that bothers you?” I'm genuinely puzzled. Mortals crave wealth, power, status. I've watched them kill for far less than what I've given her.
“What bothers me is that none of it means anything to you.” Her eyes hold mine, unwavering. “These things… they're just objects you can conjure with a thought, right? They don't tell me anything about you.”
I lean back in my chair, considering her words. “What would you prefer?”
“Something that matters to you. Something with history. With meaning.” She reaches across the table, hesitantly taking my hand. “I want to know you, Az. The real you.”
My chest constricts. If she knew the real me—Asmodai, Archdemon of Lust, a ruler of Hell, the creator of countless sex demons—she'd run screaming. Or try to. I’d never let her. But the thought of her fear directed at me is unbearable.
“You want to know me?” I rise from my chair, circling the table until I stand beside her. “Then know this.”
I pull her to her feet, one hand tangling in her hair as I claim her mouth. She tastes of sherry and desire, her body melting against mine as I deepen the kiss. When we break apart, her pupils have dilated, nearly swallowing the gray of her irises.
“I feed on you,” I murmur against her lips. “Only you, for months now. No orgies, no random partners, no nameless bodies to satisfy my hunger.” My fingers trail down her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath my touch. “Just you, Simone. Only you.”
Her breath hitches, her brow furrowing. “Feed… what? What does that mean?”
“It means you've done what no one in thousands of years has managed.” I slide my hands down her sides, gripping her hips. “You've made me want monogamy.”
A startled laugh escapes her. “That's your romantic confession? That you're not fucking other people?”
“For me? Yes.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “It's unprecedented.”
With one swift movement, I sweep the dishes from the table, sending crystal and china crashing to the floor. Simone gasps, but her eyes darken with lust as I lift her onto the polished mahogany.
“What are you doing?” she asks, though the way she spreads her legs to accommodate me between them suggests she knows exactly what I'm doing.
“Giving you something meaningful.” I push her dress up her thighs, revealing the lace panties beneath. “Me.”
Her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt. “The food—”
“Fuck the food.” I rip her panties off with one sharp tug. “I want to feast on you instead.”
She shivers, and I feel her arousal spike, filling the air with that intoxicating scent that's uniquely hers. I could drown in it.
“Yes,” she breathes, arching into my touch.
I push her back until she's lying across the table, candlelight gilding her skin. “Look at you,” I growl, spreading her thighs wider. “Wet and ready on our dinner table. My perfect little fairy.”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her dress bunched around her waist. “Az, please.”
“Please, what?” I trace a finger through her folds, collecting her slickness. “Tell me what you want, Simone.”
“I want you inside me.”
I unzip my pants, freeing my cock. “Like this?” I tease her entrance with just the tip.
She writhes beneath me. “Yes. God, yes.”
“Not God, little fairy.” I push just an inch inside her, savoring her desperate moan. “Just me. Say my name.”
“Az.” She tries to pull me deeper, but I resist.
“Again.”
“Az, please!” Her nails dig into my forearms. “I need you to fuck me.”
That breaks my control. With one powerful thrust, I bury myself to the hilt inside her. Simone cries out, her back arching off the table.
“That's it,” I growl, establishing a punishing rhythm. “Take all of me.”
The table rocks beneath us, the remaining silverware clattering to the floor. Simone meets me thrust for thrust, her legs wrapped around my waist, her hands clinging to my shoulders.
“You're mine,” I tell her, my voice rough with possession. “Say it.”
“I'm yours,” she gasps, her inner walls clenching around me. “And you're mine.”
The claim startles me, but before I can process it, she's pulling me down for a kiss, her tongue tangling with mine as I drive into her relentlessly.
“Touch yourself,” I command against her lips. “Show me how you make yourself come when I'm not here.”
Her hand moves between us, fingers circling her clit as I fuck her. The sight nearly undoes me—her pleasure has become my greatest fucking addiction.
“That's it, little fairy. Show me what you need.” I adjust my angle, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. “You're going to come on my cock, aren't you? Going to squeeze me so tight while you scream my name.”
Her movements grow erratic, her breathing choppy. “Az, I'm close—”
“Let go.” I reach down, brushing her fingers aside to press firmly against her clit. “Come for me, Simone. Now.”
She shatters with a cry, her body convulsing around me. The rush of her pleasure feeds me, filling me with a euphoria no orgy could ever match. Still buried inside her, I find my own release, pouring myself into her with a guttural moan.
For several long moments, we stay locked together, our ragged breathing the only sound in the room. Gradually, I become aware of the wreckage around us—broken dishes, spilled wine, scattered food. I can't bring myself to care.
“Well,” Simone says finally, her voice throaty with satisfaction. “That was definitely meaningful.”
I laugh, genuinely laugh, and the sound echoes strangely in the dining room. When did I last laugh like this? Before the fall of Rome, certainly.
“Bath?” I suggest, carefully withdrawing from her body.
She sits up, wincing slightly. “That sounds perfect.”
I easily carry her to the master bathroom, where a massive tub waits, already filled with steaming water and orchids.
Simone raises an eyebrow. “You planned this?”
“I like to be thorough.” I help her out of her rumpled dress, then remove my own clothes. “Into the tub with you.”
She sinks into the water with a contented sigh, and I join her, positioning her between my legs with her back against my chest. For a while, we simply soak in comfortable silence. I reach for a sponge, gently washing her back, her shoulders, her arms.
“This is nice,” she murmurs, leaning into my touch.
“Being bathed by an ancient immortal being? I should think so.”
She laughs softly. “Not just that. This.” She gestures vaguely. “Us.”
Something tightens in my chest at her words. I continue washing her, my movements slower. Her skin is like silk beneath my hands, and I'm suddenly overcome with the need to protect her, to keep her safe and content forever.
The realization hits me like a blow to the stomach… By Sataniel, I love her.
I, Asmodai, deity of carnal sin, scourge of virgins, corrupter of saints—I love this half-mortal woman with her clever mind and stubborn spirit and the vulnerability that she tries so hard to hide.
“Az?” Simone turns in my arms, concern etched across her features. “Are you alright? You went completely still.”
I cup her face, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. Perhaps I am. My thumb brushes the apple of her cheek in gentle swipes.
“I love you.” The words fall from my lips before I can stop them, hanging in the steam between us. Simone's eyes widen, her lips parting in shock.
“What did you say?” she whispers.
“I love you.” I say it again, more firmly this time. “I don't know when it happened. Damn it, I didn't even know it was possible for me. But I do.”
She stares at me as if searching my face for deception, for manipulation. I let her look, opening myself to her scrutiny in a way I've never done for anyone.
Slowly, achingly slowly, a smile spreads across her face. “I love you too.”
“You do?” The relief that floods me is embarrassingly intense.
“Yes.” She presses her forehead against mine. “Heaven help me, I do.”
I laugh again, pulling her closer. “Heaven has nothing to do with this, little fairy.”
If only she knew how true that was. But for now, the truth—and all its complications—can wait.