by Ivy Asher
“This is not your pussy,” I say, snatching the bar of soap as I begin the world’s quickest clean-up. “In fact, I’m never giving it to you again because you are a rude motherfucker!” I shout, washing between my legs and then rinsing quickly. “There, happy?” I wouldn’t be surprised if my lips were blue.
“Yep.”
He reaches inside and turns off the shower and then helps me step out. I’m even fucking colder now. “Can I have a damn towel?” I ask, trying really hard not to look at his dick hanging between his legs. Don’t look at it, Delta. He’s in trouble. Be strong!
“You don’t need a towel,” he says, and I swear to fucking hell, my hand is just itching for my scythe.
“I’m awake and alert! Totally sober. And totally regretting riding your dick right about now,” I lie, putting my hands on my hips. I’m freezing and my wings are soaking wet, right along with the rest of me.
Jerif just stands there, taking in my anger like he gets off on my fiery words. But he must have some sense of self-preservation, because in the next blink, fire erupts all over my body.
I yelp and jump about two feet in the air, but then I realize that his licking flames are drying and warming me.
I tip my head back on a moan as the frigid chill is instantly devoured. His fire travels everywhere, moving over my pebbled skin to comfort every shivering and tense part of me. His flames even dry my wings and hair, and the sight looks fucking weird and yet fascinating in the mirror. I look like some she-demon fire princess with my wings and body all engulfed in flames like this.
Once I’m dry, his flames die down a bit, but Jerif uses one strip of fire to continue to tease over my body. It leaves a pink blush in its wake everywhere it goes, travelling down the edge of my neck, between my breasts, and around my nipples. I bite my lip, mostly because I need to in order to hold back a moan.
“Say you forgive me.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “No, absolutely not. That was a dick move.”
He looks pleased.
His fire moves downward and then curves around my waist before slipping between the cheeks of my ass. I hold perfectly still, though it’s getting harder and harder to do because my legs are a little bit like jelly right about now. Heat presses against that wicked hole, making me bite down so hard that blood beads against my lip.
“Say it, Warrior Princess.”
I shake my head, loving this push and pull of ours. Maybe it’s wrong, but I love our fight. I love him pissing me off and me pissing him off and then colliding. I think I’m going to quickly become addicted to it.
Heat spreads down from my ass, curving up to my pussy. I’m already throbbing and wet, and the moisture has nothing to do with the shower.
Jerif steps closer to me but doesn’t touch me, and we both look down to see the small flame come up further and heat the surface of my clit.
“Fuck…” I fall back against the wall behind me, and my eyes flutter closed as Jerif plays with me. My orgasm comes slowly, warmly, like burning coals that pulsate with heat.
When I open my pleasure-filled eyes again, I’m still slumped against the wall, and Jerif is still standing in front of me, watching. His fire goes out in a wisp of smoke, and a pleased smile curves my mouth. “I forgive you,” I say in a husky voice.
“I know.”
He’s half hard again, but before I can reach out and touch him, he backs away. He quickly washes himself in the sink, and then grabs a hand towel beside him and gets it wet. Instead of handing it to me, he presses the wet washcloth against my pussy, making me jolt a little since I’m so sensitive and also because it’s ice-fucking-cold water again.
“Really?” I say dryly, arching a brow.
He just nips at my neck, swiping me one last time before turning and tossing the towel in the sink and walking out.
“Wait,” I say, forcing my legs to work again as I follow him into the bedroom. “You burned my shirt,” I remind him before picking up my pants and pulling them on.
“You can wear one of mine,” he says as he heads into a closet.
By the time my pants are on and my boots are laced, Jerif comes out fully dressed in black cargo pants and a gray T-shirt that pulls at his muscles. He hands over a black shirt that smells like him. “Wings, remember?” I tell him.
“I burned holes in the back for them already.”
I turn the shirt around and notice that he did, in fact, burn me some holes. “Such a gentleman,” I snicker before turning around and giving him my back.
I pull the shirt on over my head, and Jerif automatically takes the fabric and feeds my wings through the holes. It’s much easier to do with a looser shirt—and with someone else to help. Still, I’m committed to the strapless top thing. I really need to order some easy for wings shirts to make my life easier. I wonder if Hell has Amazon Prime? Or Maybe Tazreel will give me Lousen the dress designer’s number. I bet she knows how to fashion shirts that work with bird parts.
Turning around, I loosely tuck some of Jerif’s shirt into my pants to help tighten the chest area around my boobs. “Okay,” I say, nodding to myself that this is good enough. “I’m ready to deal with Pride.”
Jerif snorts before taking my hand and tugging me out of the room. I look back longingly at our little spot on the floor, already missing sitting next to the fire and fucking on the feather down blanket.
“Soon,” Jerif promises me, as if he can read my mind, as he pulls me into the hallway.
“I’m going to take you up on that,” I tell him.
“I’m going to take you up against a lot of things,” he counters.
My pussy flutters at the delicious promise. I’m so game for that.
“Do you know where they are?” I ask as Jerif leads me down a bunch of unfamiliar hallways. “Also what’s a girl gotta do to get a tour around here?”
Jerif snorts. “I’ll give you a tour, Princess, I just need enough time to do it so I can fuck you in every room as we go.”
My vagina clenches greedily, and my ass holds up a sign that says put me in, Coach.
“Nothing says home sweet home like I came all over that,” I agree evenly, completely on board with that plan.
I immediately start thinking of ways to get rid of Tazreel so we can implement the Tour de Sex. I don’t even know if I want to meet my biological mother. How am I supposed to feel about the person who birthed me, blocked me, and left me to live a lie my whole life?
Jerif leads me into an atrium—or at least, that’s what I think rich people call weird rooms full of plants and too much sunlight. I could probably fit eight of my houses in this place. Actually, make that nine, I observe, as we exit a row of plants on tables and I discover a whole section of planter beds that seem to be filled with vegetables.
Imps are inside the space, tending to the indoor mini farm. I can hear Tazreel’s pompous voice bouncing off the glass ceiling as he recounts some useless story that probably has nothing to do with anything other than him loving the sound of his own voice and talking about himself.
I’m going to owe the guys so hard for keeping him entertained while I was sobering up on Jerif’s cock.
“Ahhh, there she is!” Tazreel announces jovially as Jerif and I get closer to the flower covered corner they’re all standing in.
I get the impression that Tazreel might need to spend some time sobering up himself, judging by the way he whirls to me and Jerif, spilling half the contents in his glass. He stares at the puddle of spirits he just deposited on the ground and then looks at the massive red blossom next to him and says, “You’re welcome,” as though the flower should’ve thanked him personally for the shot of alcohol.
Surprisingly, the guys don’t look put out or irritated at all, they look easy and casual like—gasp—they might be having a good time. Maybe they’re drunk too, because that’s the only way to handle my sperm donor in large doses, I’ve now decided.
“I was just regaling your boys with the time I got a gasping flower stuck
around my cock at Luce’s house,” he tells me, a little too loudly for how close I now am to him.
I make a face. Who the hell wants to hear a story about the time their father violated a flower?
I look over at the guys, horrified, but they just chuckle, like, good ol’ Taz and his stories.
Taz turns back to them. “It was a damn fine suck-off, I have to admit that much, boys, but I didn’t know if the toxins were going to melt off my member or if it would release its deadly pollen when I tried to pull it off of me. It was quite the conundrum. Luckily, Gluttony had run into this perverted plant before, so he knew how to help me remove it. But I’ve never been able to look at a gasping flower the same again. I had all of them removed immediately from my gardens.”
I look over at Jerif, like there’s no way this is actually happening. My biological father is not drunk and telling a story about fucking a plant. This is even more humiliating than me falling off the toilet mid-piss. Jerif just looks down at me like, this is your family, good luck with that.
I sigh. “I’m not saying that story wasn’t...umm...traumatizing in ways I hope to never think about again, but are you ready to tell us what’s going on, Tazreel?” I ask.
“Sire, Delta. I’m your Sire, and you should address me accordingly.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
Tazreel rolls his eyes at me and tips his glass back, emptying it. “I haven’t had this vintage in ages,” he gulps appreciatively. “It’s a fine stock you demons carry. You make Hell proud,” Tazreel declares to the guys. I look at him warily. It’s one thing to think that the guys aren’t bothered by Tazreel, but has he actually warmed up to them too? Where was all that they’re beneath you talk? I stare at the group for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
Did I get fucked into the twilight zone or something?
“Ow!” Jerif yells and jumps away from me. “What the fuck was that?” he growls.
“Just making sure I’m awake and in the real world,” I explain as I pull my fingers away from him.
“You’re supposed to pinch yourself for that,” he snarls, rubbing at his upper arm.
“Oh, please, Firefly. Why would I do that when this is just so much more fun?”
“I’ll give you more fun,” he mumbles. “I’ll light that ass up next time and show you who the firefly really is,” he scoffs indignantly.
That makes me smile, and all my naughty bits start clapping with excitement. I should look around the atrium for an aloe vera plant, just in case.
The second there’s a lull in conversation, Tazreel shouts out, “Your mother!” making me jump. “That’s right! I’ve been having such a surprisingly pleasant time, I almost forgot,” he confesses before chucking his glass away like that’s the normal thing to do instead of setting it down or passing it off to someone. I watch it go sailing through the air, and then drop my mouth open in shock when an imp reaches up without looking and catches it like a viper does its prey. They bring the glass down to the ground, all the while never taking their eyes off the tomato plant they’re plucking ripe fruit from.
I turn to the guys like, did you see that? But when I reach out a hand to pinch Jerif again, he stops me with a glare. “Don’t you even think about it.”
I adopt a sheepish grin long enough for him to think I won’t, and then as soon as his guard is down, I do it anyway. He reaches behind me and pinches my ass in retaliation, but I like it, so it doesn’t really pan out for him.
“Where’s your scythe?” Tazreel demands, pulling my attention from Jerif’s fire-filled gaze that screams retribution.
Such a baby.
“It’s in time-out,” I answer casually as I lift my hands and play the world’s smallest violin in sympathy for Jerif’s wounded bicep.
“Wait, what?” Echo asks as Crux snickers and Iceman shakes his head, an amused smile on his face.
“My scythe is in time-out,” I repeat.
“A...time-out,” Crux parrots, trying and failing not to laugh.
“Well, get it off time-out,” Taz says impatiently. “We need it.”
“I can’t,” I tell him with irritation. “The fucker never does what I want it to, that’s why it’s in time-out in the first place! It Thors out on me and almost gets me taken out by the Devil himself for no reason, but then it doesn’t heed any of the other times I try to work with it. So it can just sit and think about that for a while,” I finish with a stern tone.
Suddenly, the light in the atrium appears to dim, and a wave of trepidation washes over me. I look to the guys to see what’s going on, but Tazreel’s murderous gaze pulls all of my focus. He steps toward me, violence in his eyes, and I swear to fuck, I see lightning crash across his features and feel the answering thunder in my chest.
“You dare to treat the gifts of Hell so callously?” he asks me, his tone all the more terrifying due to the killer calm I can hear in it.
The guys all go stiff, anger crawling into their eyes at the threatening stance Tazreel is coming at me with. They move to close in around me, but I hold up a hand to stop them. Tazreel isn’t just a Nihil, he’s a major sin, Abdicated inner circle, Pride prickhead. I have no idea what kind of damage he can do to them. He steps even closer to me, invading my space as his enraged menace looms over me like storm clouds. Fear floods my veins, quickly followed by anger.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
In a blink, warmth prickles my fisted palm, and then I’m suddenly holding the Hell weapon that set off this whole tantrum that Tazreel is having.
Immediately, the thunderous darkness recedes, and Tazreel’s face lights up. “Ha!” he declares with wide-eyed excitement, elation washing through his features. Confusion whiplashes through me as his rage disappears as quickly as it came.
What the hell just happened?
At my incredulous look, he shrugs, lifting a blond wing. “I figured it must have been some instinctive protective reaction that called the scythe to you during the dinner party when you felt backed into a corner, so I figured I’d try this,” he tells me, like threatening me was a perfectly reasonable idea. “Perhaps any kind of intense emotion will work. We will have to test that out,” Tazreel observes, gesturing to the guys as he says we, as though they’re in on the plan.
“What were you feeling the exact moment the scythe appeared?” Taz asks, like a scientist collecting data at the end of an experiment.
“Um, I was concerned that you were a fucking psycho, flipping your switch that fast,” I tell him with intense side-eye. “I was also pissed and pretty fucking terrified,” I confess, quickly catching on to what Tazreel was trying to accomplish with the show he put on.
My mind knows now that it was all a test, but my body is still shaken up. I try to cover up my racing heart as I set the straight bladed end of the scythe on the ground and look it over like a puzzle I’m trying to find all the pieces to.
“There, now we know,” Taz states pompously. “You’re welcome. I’ve solved that problem for you.” He turns to the guys. “Next time she needs her scythe and she can’t get it to come to her, just threaten her life.”
Iceman and Crux look at him like he’s lost his mind, but Jerif and Echo seem oddly up to the task. That should scare me, but instead, I’m intrigued.
“Now,” Taz says, clapping his hands together once. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
I run a hand down my face and look over to Iceman. “Can I have more demon spirits?” I ask, because Taz is much harder to deal with while I’m sober.
Iceman’s deep blue lips kick up. “No.”
I let out a sigh of disappointment before turning back to Taz. “Okay, so explain why you needed the scythe.”
Taz digs into his pocket and pulls out a small glass vial filled with a thick red liquid. “I procured this from the hump of a Vual demon,” he says proudly, like this was a great feat. “From Luce’s reaction, I know that your scythe has to be a family heirloom, connected to your
maternal bloodline. It’s the key to it all,” he tells me as he pops off the cork of the bottle.
I pick up my scythe, eyeing the bottled liquid warily. “So what is that going to do, exactly?” I ask him.
“I’m going to pour this on your scythe, which will enable it to track down your bloodline. The power should pull us to your mother, or at least someone in that bloodline.” He turns to my guys. “You might want to hold on to her,” he warns ominously.
My pulse starts to race again, and my mouth opens in surprise. Shit. This is all happening really fucking fast.
“Wait!” I call out at the same time Tazreel asks, “Ready?”
I open my mouth to say, “Fuck no!” but of course, the arrogant ass doesn’t wait for anyone to answer. He just tips the bottle over, dumping the entire contents of it onto the blade of my scythe.
“Are you kidding me?” I demand, but the oozing, molasses-thick liquid is already coating the blade, and there isn’t anything I can do to stop it.
Taz reaches forward and grabs my arm, just as my demons grab onto other various parts of me. I don’t even get time to suck a breath in and reprimand Taz about waiting for permission or lecture him about not pouring demon hump blood on other people’s scythes, because as soon as the red liquid drips off the blade of the scythe and lands on the ground, something yanks on me hard.
I go portaling straight downward, like Alice fucking Liddell falling straight into the rabbit hole. Which is just fucking great, because I hate bunnies almost as much as I hate birds. If I come out of this whole thing with a cotton tail, I’m going to be pissed.
18
It feels like we all get sucked down into demonic quicksand, pulled right to the center of earth. Then, somehow, we flip right-side up again and go barreling skyward in pure darkness. It’s the worst fucking rollercoaster ride ever, and my stomach lurches angrily.
Just when I’m sure there will be ralphing in my near future, the pull on me stops and there’s once again solid ground beneath our feet.
