Chapter 36: Lana

"U gh," I groan, feeling stiff as a board from the long trek in the caves. I stretch my arms above my head, giving a baleful look at the dim gray light peeking through the heavy, dark red velvet curtains.

It's hard to tell the time of day in most areas of Hell, seeing as the sky remains unchanged. Purgatory is always blanketed by darkness and the ever-present red celestial lights. And when you leave the fortress, you walk under a sky of glowing, burning red and orange. Ashtaroth's domain is bleak and gray, but it does seem to grow darker and lighter in regular intervals.

My bladder is urging me to the toilet, and as I clumsily descend from the tall bed, I nearly land on the tiny curled-up beast sleeping by it. I swallow back my yelp and skirt around a lightly snoring Puck. I wonder why he isn't sleeping on the bed – he had no problems climbing into it yesterday.

I wash and dress, ignoring the slight ache in my lower belly. Truthfully, my period cramps are usually a lot worse, but a good workout on the first day does wonders. I flush at the thought of the workouts I had yesterday. That demon is ravenous and nothing deters him from having what he wants.

I decide to visit with Kevin first – if he's not otherwise occupied – and walk down the corridors I was shown by the guard yesterday, a now-awake Puck traipsing by my side. We find Kevin dressed, mercifully, but walking somewhat stiffly. He refuses to tell me what that's about, though the spectrum of reds and pinks marking his face makes me think up a few likely scenarios.

"Out with it," I grumble after watching Kevin fidget with pursed lips for several minutes once I caught him up with the search for Simone. We're sitting on a cushioned bench on Naamah's balcony, sipping the coffee I asked for from a passing servant in the hallways. The coffee was delivered so fast that I had to wonder if there are hidden passageways throughout the castle – most Celestial creatures aren't strong enough to use the ether for transportation.

Puck took one look at a plush velvet sofa and plopped onto his belly to nap.

"Are you sure he doesn't hurt you?" Kevin finally asks.

I lift my brows. "That question sounds like I may be confused as to whether he is or isn't," I reply, smiling at him teasingly. Predictably, Kev flushes again, stammering. It's so familiar to me and comforting, this camaraderie we share, and I ruffle his soft brown hair.

"I just… we ran into him in the hallways yesterday. Uh, Naamah and me," he clarifies, shifting awkwardly and I have to bite my lip to hide my smile. "I kind of butted into their bullshit conversation to ask about you and Simone. He said he would've killed me if it wasn't for you."

He's watching me with a weary look, so I refrain from calling him an idiot. "Would you have interrupted an archdemon's conversation, if it wasn't someone I was, eh… entangled with? If it wasn't the uncle of someone you're entangled with?"

Still flushing, his eyes now widen in realization, that he may have, again, acted recklessly. "I guess not," he mumbles.

"Well, then. Don't do it again." I stick my tongue out at him to pull him out of the maudlin mood. "I'm not scared of him," I add. "Well, that's a lie, I am scared of some things, but not that he'll hurt me. Not anymore."

Kev sputters. "How? Why?"

I shrug. "I know how that sounds, believe me. It's just…" Now it's my turn to flush and fidget under Kevin's wide-eyed stare. "He makes sure I eat. And drink." I see him rolling his eyes at me. "Oh, I know how that sounds, Kev. But it's not just that. He tries to do it… perfectly, you know?"

"Like when you buy an expensive cat with a pedigree and want to make sure you treat it accordingly?" he asks dryly.

"Fuck off," I grumble.

"Sorry, sorry, go on." He places a hand on my arm and squeezes gently.

"What I meant to say is, he seems to willingly go against his nature and thousands of years of habits to make sure I'm well."

"That's the problem, isn't it, Lan?" He's speaking softly now, holding my gaze. "You can't change thousands of years of habit, let alone your nature in a month, or however long he's been obsessing over you."

"Mm," I reply, agreeing though I don't want to.

"It's just sex, right?" Kevin asks, brows up. "It is just sex, Lana?" he repeats when I don't reply. "Please tell me you know that however he acts, it's just an affectation that won't last."

"Since when are you the mature one in this partnership?" I quip.

"Don't deflect with a joke now."

He's still giving me that stern look so I reply, "Yup. We'll be home soon."

I don't tell him about Ashtaroth's question last night, whether I would stay if given the choice, but the way he's looking at me now shows me he's not quite convinced anyway.

?? ?

I find Ash in his throne room. Armaros and Sariel pass me with a wink, clearly already following new orders.

I walk up to the archdemon, admiring the way he looks on that massive black seat. The armrests are decorated with wrought metal demonic arms, hands ending in grasping claws. I remember how the metal groaned under his hands the last time he was angry and sitting there. I don't see it now, as he covers most of it, but I know the backrest holds a depiction of those same clawed hands ripping open a ribcage.

He's looking down at me from the raised dais the throne is set upon, a lazy and indulgent smile decorating his devastating face.

"Come here." He pats one of his strong thighs in invitation. He's wearing his leather armor, still menacing, but more comfortable than plate.

I look around in a mocking search. "Are you sure no demonesses will fly out of the walls to try and rip off my face?"

His smile grows, dimples gracing his sculpted cheeks, and his eyes glow with heat and satisfaction. "I will hold my temper next time. I find that watching you annihilate any competitors for my attention would serve as a titillating memory every time I'm inside you."

"Oh, get over yourself," I snort, but climb up the steps until I'm on even ground. "Why would I have to fight for your attention when I have it all to myself without lifting a finger as it is?" My voice is sugary sweet and I sit on the proffered thigh, back resting on the arm he wraps around me. When I look up at him, I see he's still smiling, gazing at me with a look that scares me with its warmth.

I gulp and try to slice through the tension. "What did Sariel and Armaros find out?"

"It could be no other female offspring other than your teammate, Simone. "

I roll my eyes at him. "I could have told you that. A disappearance would be impossible to hide at Purgatory. We're like a high school, only less hormonal."

He's smiling at me like I'm his favorite kitten in the litter. Since I can't pinch him through the thick leather armor, I just scrunch up my nose, likely compounding the whole high school thing.

"So, what now?" I ask.

"They're on their way to the mortal realm to begin investigating her family."

His expression betrays some consternation. Naturally, I tease him about it. "It's not nice when you're left out of the action, eh?"

That sly smirk makes its reappearance. That's much better. "Do you wish to participate in the briefings then?"

"Mhm," I hum, tracing the curlicues of his armor over his breastbone, just as I traced the lines of his seal in a grimoire not long ago.

"Very well, lamb." His grin bares his teeth and there's a smidgeon of evil there. "But don't complain when you fall asleep at the table once I drag you out of bed for a briefing in the middle of the night."

I tug at the lock of raven black hair falling over his cheek and he laughs in surprise and delight.

"What do you do in the middle of the night? When you're not having briefings or holding court, I mean." I tuck the lock of hair behind his ear, caressing its shell once I'm done.

A purr rumbles in his chest. "Perhaps I count your freckles. Then again the next night to make sure I did not err the night before."

I side-eye him. "That's just creepy." And romantic.

He chuckles at the mocking expression on my face. "Of all the things I did for you, that is what you find creepy?"

I freeze for a beat, then throw my head back and laugh, the sound echoing in the empty throne room. The fact that I really shouldn't be laughing just makes me unable to stop doing so.

When I look at him I find his eyes fixed on my mouth. He gently pulls me closer, a suggestion instead of a command, and I loop my arms around his neck so I can bring my mouth closer to his. I love that mouth, truly. When it's between my legs, just the thought of it being there pushes me to the edge with the speed of a fighter jet. Instead of kissing him, I slowly lick his upper lip, following its contours, lingering over the cupid's bow.

He must have been holding his breath because he expels it in a burst with a sound close to a moan. I swear my eyes roll to the back of my head. I have a feeling this demon could make me come just by moaning in my ear.

Wanting more of the sound, I stand up, his hands letting me go with reluctance. Holding his gaze, I lower myself to my knees between his feet and casually spread legs. He watches me with a clenched jaw, his fiery eyes so intense it almost looks like he's furious. But I know those eyes now and I'm not afraid. I slowly drag my palms up the tops of his leather-clad thighs. "Let me," I whisper.

He's immovable, observing me intently, either looking for something in my expression or memorizing the sight of me on my knees before his throne. Slowly he moves his hands to the buckle of his belt to unfasten it. The clinking of metal on metal is loud in the quiet room, as is the whisper of leather against skin once he lifts himself just enough to slide his pants low enough to free his cock.

He's completely hard already, skin stretched over the veiny shaft, the tip glistening. I scoot closer, then lower my lips to the root of his dick, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his testicles before angling my head. I drag the tip of my nose up the heated flesh of his rod, inhaling the clean musky scent. His breathing turns ragged and I look up at him to give him a smug smile of my own, enjoying the power I hold. His mouth is slightly parted, his eyes restless, bouncing from my mouth to my eyes, then to the tops of my hands at the junction of his thighs, and then starting over. His hands are already clenched on the armrests.

Keeping ahold of his gaze, I extend my tongue and lick over the frenulum. The loud hiss he releases and the clenching of his muscles under my palms spur me on, and I angle my head again and close my lips over the area, gently sucking and swiping at it with my tongue.

"Fuck!" he growls, releasing the armrest to grip my hair. "You have a… wicked mouth," he says between panted breaths.

With a wink at his flabbergasted expression, I extend my tongue fully and lick a path from root to tip, then suck out the bead of precum waiting for me at the top. His thigh muscles spasm and I smile, my lips gently caressing the head of his cock. I draw back a couple of inches and spit on it.

He yells lightly in surprise, then uses his hands in my hair to tilt my head back. "You are a filthy, filthy girl," he rumbles. "I believe I will need to clean you with my tongue."

I moan and wrap my right hand over the bottom of his shaft, squeezing tightly until his head kicks back, tendons straining. Once the grip on my hair loosens, I bring my head down over his cock again and, mouth open wide, I take him as far as I can. My lips meet the thumb and forefinger I have wrapped around him. I suck hard and rub my tongue over as much of the shaft as I can. I pull back a bit so I can start stroking his dick and sucking on his cockhead to the soundtrack of his groans.

It's not long before he pulls me off him and stands up. "No," I whine in protest, but he's urging me up.

He's shaking his head. "Not now, my hungry little slut. I need to fuck you." My pussy clenches at his degrading words, but he's already behind me, tearing my loose pants and pressing on my back. "Bend over. Arms on the seat, ass in the air."

Moaning, I position myself as he ordered, his hands pulling my hips back into his groin and kicking my feet further apart. "You're so fucking wet already," he growls, fingers now dragging roughly through my folds. With a quick tug on the string, he pulls out the tampon I forgot about, then I hear the whoosh of fire as he burns it. I feel embarrassed for all of a second before he has two fingers inside me. He bends over me so he can whisper. "You love sucking your master's cock, don't you, my filthy little whore? "

I whimper, the sound pleading, and he pulls back. But instead of pushing inside me, like I expected, a sharp sting over my pussy makes me yell out. He just slapped me between the legs! A tiny part of me is telling me to protest the degrading behavior he's subjecting me to today, but my body overrides anything else and I find myself begging. "More…"

He chuckles but doesn't give me what I asked for, this time lining himself up with my opening and pressing inside. The glide is embarrassingly easy. "That's it," he growls once he's fully seated, then grinds in so deep I squeal.

He pauses to run a soothing hand down my back, tracing my spine. "I'm not quite sure which sight I prefer: you on your knees before my throne, or bent over it." His hand reaches my ass and he squeezes a cheek with propriety. "Luckily, I can have both."

With that, he starts pounding inside me and I have to brace my palms against the backrest despite his firm hold on my hips. I love the pain from his tight grip and merciless thrusts as much as I love the grunts that accompany them. I push back against him, wanting more of everything, anything.

"Good fucking girl," he snarls behind me. "Show me how much you love having me inside you." I cry out every time our flesh meets with loud sounds of skin against skin. He releases my hips to hold me by the front of my neck with one hand, the other snaking around to my pubis so he can nestle my clit between his fore- and middle fingers.

Every time his groin meets my ass the impact rocks me forward into his palm, depriving me of air while rubbing my clit between the fingers of the hand between my legs. "You have ten seconds to come or I will leave you suffering all day." His voice is as ruthless as the hand around my neck.

"Ten," he starts counting, fucking me faster as all the air is pounded out of my lungs and my mouth opens with empty heaves.

"Five." I need air, but I need to come even more and then I need to feel him coming inside me.

"Three." The black spots dancing in my vision are making me dizzy so I close my eyes. My clit feels like it's going to catch fire from the heat of his fingers.

"One. Come. Now." The words are a growled command my body has no choice but to follow and I tense just as he releases his hold on my throat. I gasp for air at the same time as agonizing pleasure explodes through my body, the rush of oxygenated blood and dopamine transporting me to another reality.

I can vaguely hear Ashtaroth shouting behind me as my muscles tense and release, his hold of me the only thing keeping me from slumping over in a heap.

I'm still floating minutes or hours later, blissed out, as he withdraws, then pulls me up to spin me around. "Sit," he commands, voice raspy from shouting. "I want to know I'm sitting on our come the next time I have to entertain the rabble."

I moan weakly at his words and look down between my legs at the small puddle of our combined fluids. Ash growls like a starving wolf who just found itself in a sheep pen, drops to his knees and roughly pulls me forward towards his mouth.

Despite the excruciating skill he uses to build me up to a peak again, it takes a long time to reach it after that mind-shattering orgasm. Not to mention that I'm still mostly zoned out. But Ashtaroth savors every second and every drop of moisture as I alternately caress and tug on his silken hair, dazedly enjoying the sight of the king kneeling before his own throne.