by Celia Kyle
Gentle, warm fingers separated her pussy lips and she held her breath, waiting for the next touch. Damon didn’t disappoint. His tongue snaked out, lapping and licking her moisture, dipping and stroking the special place between her thighs. His tongue circled her cunt, round and round and round again, tempting and teasing her with his movements, pulling her climax forward. He didn’t focus his attention solely on her pussy, but also flicked and nibbled her clit, sucking and laving the sensitive bud with his talented tongue.
Every shift, every move, every motion, aroused her, yanked her orgasm closer, pushed her toward the edge. Damon slid one finger and then two into her passage, stroking her from within while his tongue sprinkled magic over her clit. The fires of Hell weren’t just burning outside in the pits this night, but were burning bright within Holly as well.
The nerves in her body tingled and sang, waiting and wanting and desiring more and less and somewhere in between. She ached and hurt for more, but wanted less, yet it all wasn’t enough.
“Damon… Damon, please.” She wasn’t above begging and pleading for release, not with him.
He slid his fingers free of her pussy and pressed a gentle kiss to her mound. “What do you need, baby? What can I give you?”
His eyes had gone full white. White-hot. And she, little Holly, had done that to him—a demon who’d probably had more than his share of women throughout eternity. “You. Just you.”
“Oh, you have me. Always.”
She didn’t want to think of always or forevers or tomorrows. Just right now.
Damon crawled up her body, lips kissing, teeth nipping as his mouth approached hers. He touched her and stroked her with every inch of skin, blush muscles sliding and slithering against her peaches and cream skin. He rose above her, balanced on his hands and knees, cock nestled against her labia. “Are you sure, Holly?”
“Yes.” Yes, yes, and yes a thousand times.
Poised on one hand, Damon settled the tip of his cock at her entrance, and she shivered in anticipation. He pressed forward, inch by agonizing inch, filling and stretching her like never before. He pushed and sank his cock into her channel, further and further and further still until his hip rested against her, his dick completely inside her.
“Full, so full. Move, Damon.” The fizzling sparks of her arousal were quickly relighting with his invasion. His cock touched and stroked those places deep inside that she never believed existed and now they were awakened by this man.
He did as she’d asked, retreating slowly before advancing again, his pelvic bone pressing and stroking her clit with each stroke. In and out and in and out, he filled her, loved her, fucked her like she couldn’t have ever imagined.
She moaned and groaned, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts, rising to meet him, pushing herself to fly higher, burn brighter. The tiny tingles of pleasure and arousal met and mated, skittering and dancing along her spine, through muscle and bone. Muscles tensed and tightened, pending release and ecstasy.
“Close…” She’d hold on if she had to, she wanted to come with him.
“Yesss…” he hissed, increasing his speed, fucking her with a frenzied abandon that she loved, needed and craved.
He pumped harder and harder, skin slapped against skin, their bodies coated in sweat. That building pleasure gathered and collected, centering around the juncture of her thighs. Her pussy pulsed and tremors began spreading throughout her body, muscles tensing and preparing for their release … until, until, until … she came with a shout, Damon’s name on her lips, bodies touching and fucking, her own her thoughts entirely centered on him.
Distantly, she heard her own name shouted when Damon tensed and froze above her, hips jerking three final times before his entire body stilled, beautiful agony all over his face. Seconds ticked by while they remained lost in their pleasure and the beauty of each other’s bodies.
Finally, panting, Damon slumped over Holly, and she accepted his weight gladly. “Mm…” She kissed his cheek, nuzzled his neck.
“I… I think you killed me.”
Holly laughed and then caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Smoke was gathering by the window, shifting and forming into a… “Demon!” She stared wide-eyed, unable to breathe.
“You don’t look dead.” The demon cocked his head to the side. “I thought she’d killed you. That’s my job, you know.”
The demon took two steps forward, and Damon stopped him with a few words. “Damn it, Samael. I didn’t say I was dead. It was a figure of fucking speech. Get. Out!”
The demon disappeared as quickly as he’d manifested, and Damon pulled out of her. She whimpered at the loss, but it wasn’t like they could stay connected forever.
He rolled to the side and snuggled her against him into the shelter of his arms, yanking the blanket over them.
“So, Samael?”
“Uh, yeah. Demon Angel of Death. You want a plague or mass genocide? He’s your guy.”
“Ah. And he popped into the bedroom because?” This had better be good or she was hunting the demon down herself.
“He hasn’t had a lot of work lately and hasn’t found a hobby he likes. So, any hint of the ‘D’ word and he’s on it like white on rice.”
“Uh-huh. What he really needs is a girlfriend. He’ll be so busy with her, he won’t have time to pout about being out of work.”
Damon chuckled and pulled her closer, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Maybe, sweetheart. Just maybe.”
* * * *
The next morning: One day AR (After Resurrection—Like God, but different)
“Wake up! Damon, wake up!” She nudged him, pulled and prodded him, and finally sat on him in an attempt to wake the man, demon, guy who blew her mind.
“What?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a satisfied smirk still in place.
“I need a tree.” She paced the room, ideas bouncing through her mind at a mile a minute.
Damon grumbled and rolled over, leaving his round ass in the air and just begging for a smack. “We don’t have trees.”
She hopped onto the bed, bouncing and energized, ready to take on Hell. She bent at the waist and popped his butt, once on each cheek. “No trees?”
“Hey! And no, no trees.”
“How about a bush? Don’t ya’ll have a burning bush or something you can gather for me?”
A swirling mist filled the bedroom. “Did someone say fire? I have fire.”
Holly stared at the new arrival, fully ablaze from head to toe, filling the room with an almost unbearable heat.
Damon threw a pillow at the ball of flames and it disintegrated. “We don’t need you, Ukoback. Go back to tending the fires.” Damon mumbled under his breath, and all she could hear was something about “interfering demons.”
Undeterred, she padded around the bed and dropped to her knees so she could sit nose-to-nose with her personal demon. Soft snores and snuffles emanated from Damon, and Holly pressed her forehead to his. “Hey, Damon, I need a tree and I’ll call it the ‘C’ word if you don’t help me get it.”
Damon snorted and flopped to his back, forearms covering his face. “The lady wants a tree, I’ll get her a tree.”
* * * *
Three Days AR (After Resurrection—Like God, but different)
“Damon!” She really enjoyed being able to boss Damon around. More than she ought to, but not enough to get him really angry. She giggled. “Da-mon.” She sing-songed his name.
“For the love of H—”
“Ooh… I’m telling Uncle Satan you almost said a bad word,” she teased. It’d become a lot easier to think of the Lord of Hell as her uncle as opposed to, well, the Lord of Hell.
“I was not.”
“Were to.”
“Not.”
“To.”
“Damn it, Holly.”
She popped up onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his mouth. “Thanks. Now, I need ribbons.”
“We don’t have ribbons.”
“We don’t have any ribbons here. The harpies…”
“Great! Let’s go visit them.” She gathered her notepad, pen and the bag she’d begun using as a purse.
“Over my dead—”
A mist appeared next to Holly, a voice following the formation of a demon. “Did someone say dead? Do I get to kill her now? I’ve been really good waiting, Damon.”
“For the hate of—No, Samael, you cannot kill her. Ever. For all of eternity.” Damon fumed, his face turning, well, red.
Samael looked at Holly. “He said over his dead body.” The demon turned his attention to Damon. “You said over your dead body. So I get two for one. Ready to die, Damon?”
Then the fists went flying. Men. She’d just have to find a way to get to the harpies by herself then. Without dying, of course.
* * * *
Five Days AR (After Resurrection—Like God, but different)
“You can’t have Ch—a holiday without Ch—holiday dinner! We need yams and stuffing and ham and…” Did the man not understand the importance of a holiday dinner? It was the best part of the holiday, excluding the presents, of course. All of the yummy food that no one would cook except on Chri—a holiday. They also needed a new name for the holiday besides “holiday.”
“They won’t eat it.”
“They will.”
“Won’t.”
Okay, this bickering and one-upmanship thing had to stop. “Why not?” If he had a good reason, she wouldn’t beat him to death with the candelabra. She. Wouldn’t.
“Because we don’t eat.”
“Damn it.” A rumbling voice came from behind her and she saw Samael in the doorway.
“What?” She hadn’t called him and neither had Damon. The planning was supposed to be secret.
“She thought of death. I was just going to help.” The demon shrugged.
He really needed to find some people to kill. Or a date.
* * * *
Seven Days AR (After Resurrection—Like God, but different)
Holly-Day!
Holly closed her eyes and counted to ten. Again. The babes had named the holiday after her of all people. Nope, nothing original or awe-inspiring. Holly-Day. In honor of her, the woman that pulled it all together.
The burning bush/Holly-Day tree stood in the center of the room, babes taking turns tossing in the different colorants she’d had Damon hunt up. With all of the red in Hell, she wanted to bring other colors to the babies. And instead of picking one color, she gave them a rainbow. Tossing in Epsom salts produced white flames, potassium chloride produced purple, and copper chloride produced blue. Just about any color they could want was there in buckets surrounding the bush, making the tree more colorful than the ones she’d created in the Living realm. The tree skirt had been avoided after the fifth one she’d created went up in flames. She figured it was pretty enough as is.
The garland around the room had been a smidge more difficult, but that’s where Melich came in. She sent him scavenging in the Living realm for shiny bits of metal. He came back with full sheets three times the size of him, and several looking conspicuously like parts of actual cars. She wasn’t going to ask. It wasn’t like the cops were going to come to Hell and arrest her, or them. So, she’d employed Damon and his demon abilities plus a little heating help from Ukobach to twist, stretch and bend the metal into thin, interwoven, shining strands of metal that wouldn’t melt the moment they left Damon’s protective barrier around her. The garland was a hit.
Holly employed the same technique when creating the stockings. Each babe donated one of their socks and she toiled for hours, sewing and weaving the shiny strings of metal into the cloth, forming each babe’s name on the sock.
Then there were the presents… Uncle Satan had assured her that the entire day would be gift enough for the little ones. She called him stingy. In the end, Leonard traveled to the Living realm and returned with bag after bag of heat resistant materials. If it could be baked, microwaved and put over an open flame, it was brought to Hell, to Holly. With those items and a bit of Leonard’s sorcery, toys were created that wouldn’t melt in Hell’s climate.
Damon sidled up to her, pressing his front to her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. “It’s beautiful. Because of you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck.
“I made it beautiful or it wouldn’t be beautiful if I wasn’t here?”
“Uh…”
She’d totally stumped him. The goal of every woman in life. “What is it, Damas?” She loved calling him by his last name, especially when she pronounced it Dam-ass.
“Uh, I love you?”
Holly pushed his arms away and spun to face him. “Excuse me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Wrong answer?”
Oh, she could just… Samael took two steps toward them. “Don’t need you, Samael!” Damn it, she couldn’t even get mad anymore without Samael wanting to solve all of her problems by killing someone.
Damon took her hands in his. “We’ll find him a girlfriend when we move to the Living realm.”
“I’m not moving anywhere with you until you explain.”
“Explain what?”
Men could be so dense. “What you said? You … with the love … and me.” Maybe she should have given him flashcards for Holly-Day.
“Oh. That. I l-l-love you.”
She pulled her hands free and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s with the stuttering?”
“Demons aren’t supposed to love.”
She raised a single eyebrow. “Says who?”
Damon swallowed. “The harpies.”
Oh, well, yeah. She was pretty afraid of them too. “Fine. But what are we going to do about it?” Because she totally didn’t do long-distance relationships and Hell wasn’t a home to anyone but demons, devils, icky bad souls and the occasional harpy.
Damon pulled her forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she encircled his neck with her arms. “We are moving to the Living realm where we will live happily, or damned, ever after.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Can’t take you back and leave and I can’t have you living here with Samael itching to kill at every turn, and Leonard trying to steal you from me.”
“Leonard? Me? That’s interesting…”
Damon ground his teeth and then snapped his head around. “It was a passing thought. Damn it, Samael!”
Holly kissed him on the cheek. “Just as soon as we get settled, we’ll find him a girlfriend.”
The End
About the Author:
Celia would have loved to have written her own biography, but she just didn’t know what to say. In a fit of desperation, she turned to me, her most trusted confidant and friend. I realize you’re asking yourself, “Who is this?” I am Cali, her cat. I also go by a few other names, but those may be too strong for your delicate ears. Suffice it to say my mommy is very creative and not just with writing.
My mommy, Celia, began writing in August of 2006. I know this because it was around that time our meals started coming later and later in the day. As months passed, she spent more and more time in front of the boring screen. Though it was fun to chase the little arrow around every once in a while. You should hear her scream! But I digress.
She’s worked hard to give readers sexy, quirky heroines they can relate to. And you better damn well appreciate it. All I got was late night feedings. And I didn’t even make it into one of her books by name! That damn kitten, Katie O’Meghan, did. Bitch.
Well, enjoy her writings and if you want to praise her for her work… don’t. I’d like to get fed at some point, people.
Fine. If you must contact her, her website is at www.celiakyle.com or you can send an email to celia.kyle @ gmail.com. But when I go hungry, I’ll blame you all!
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