I forced my pleasure-scorched wail louder, trying like hell to push past his restrictive grip. When my cry rattled the candelabra chandelier overhead and snuffed some of the candles out, steeping us in shadows, he lightened his clutch.
He came moments later with a delicious, hell-deep growl. I shuddered as his warm cum spread through me.
My muscles relaxed and I melted into him, enjoying the way he held me close, keeping himself seated inside me, even as he softened.
Pressing his face against my nape, he peppered my skin with kisses of fevered adoration. “Bleeding Hells.You’re fucking perfect.”
My eyes fluttered shut with a content hum, but they opened again when his words from before came drifting back with post-fuck clarity. “What did you mean when you said you were weak tonight?”
He balked for a moment, the question seemingly catching him by surprise. “I had a moment of doubt.”
I twisted around as best I could to look him in the eye. “Doubt? About what?Us?”
Belial visibly tensed and his dark brows furrowed as he carefully eased himself out of me, stooping to pull my pants back on before stuffing himself back into his. “Like I said before. It was a moment of weakness.”
I turned to face him, his attention centering on my frown. Before I could respond, he bent down to press a reverent kiss to my lips. When he pulled away, I saw the guilt there. The pain.
“It’s only been a year that we’ve been together, and by the Hells, it’s been the best year of my long, miserable existence,” he said, his voice low. “But one year is but a blink for me. It’s gone by too quickly and I fear, even if we have an eternity together, it still won’t be long enough. I want you with me always, but if you ever felt you needed to return to your native realm?—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I grabbed hold of the lowest tine of his antler—the only one my short ass could reach—and dragged him back down for another kiss. He relaxed against me, sighing as his arms banded around my waist to draw me close.
“You’ve followed me to the ends of the Underworld,” I said, whispering against his lips. “I won’t ever escape you. I don’twantto escape. I’ll always come back to you. And if I don’t?—”
“I’ll tear the world down looking for you.”
A smile teased my lips. “You fucking better.”
Belial placed a kiss to my brow, his gentlemanly demeanor a severe contrast to the lustful demon who’d ruthlessly fucked my asshole moments ago. “Now. About your winter holiday… There’s a matter we need to discuss.”
My ears perked up as thoughts of Christmas came rushing back, images of grand decorations and parties taking form in my mind. “What about it?”
“As I was born into the Roman Empire, at least I’m fairly certain, we celebrated the mid-winter festival known as Saturnalia,” Belial explained. “Yule, before the Christians appropriated it from the pagans into your modern-day Christmas, has roots in Saturnalia. So, I’m not exactly up to date on current mortal customs, especially in your young country of origin.”
My head was spinning with the information, but I loved hearing him talk about his past. There were always more layers to pull back, more secrets to unveil. “It’s changed a lot, but a lot of things are the same. We still trim a tree in pretty things, decorate the house with holly and evergreen, we kiss under the mistletoe.”
Familiarity sparked in his eyes at the mention of the things I’d grown up with. Then his lips thinned, lines of concern grooving his pale features. “That’s what I was worried about. So much greenery, life. Which is something the realm of death isn’t exactly kind to.”
“What do you mean?” My head canted to the side. “Things grow here.”
“Yes, native flora…” His line of sight shifted to the spot where I’d left the spruce tree from the funeral home. “The poison in Limbo’s air will erode anything that it doesn’t recognize as its own. The only reason you’re still alive is because I make it so with my magic.”
I spun around, and my heart dropped to my gut when I took in the tree, or what remained of it. It was gone, turned to dust. All that was left were the ornaments that hadn’t been lost through the interdimensional portal I’d stuffed it through, nestled in a pile of ash.
Tears stung my eyes. I felt stupid for getting emotional over a silly tree. But to me, it represented a little slice of home. Before my mom passed, she’d always done her best to make the holidays special for me when she wasn’t working to keep a roof over our heads. I had fond memories of decorating a Christmas tree with her, then drinking warm cider on the couch afterward to admire our handiwork.
“Can’t you bring it back to life with your magic?”
Belial circled around me, and I turned my head so he wouldn’t see me cry. He caught my jaw and gently steered my attention back to his.
With a swipe of his thumb, he brushed a tear from my cheek and shook his head. “I can only stave off death for entities bearing a soul.”
“Then put a soul in the tree!” There were tons of souls in the castle, and not just in the Library of Souls. Many departed beings waited for the Lord of Bones to pass Judgement—when he’d decide which layer of Hell they’d reside in for eternity—and while they waited, they’d wander the many corridors, nestling in all sorts of trinkets and furniture. It wasn’t uncommon for me to walk down to the kitchen for a midnight snack with all the furniture I passed begging and pleading for me to put in a good word for them with the Lord.
“It doesn’t work like that, my treasure.” He brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear with a feathered sigh. “It won’t bring it back. Only dark magic, necromancy, can do such a thing.”
“Then do dark magic. You’re a demon sorcerer; necromancy is cake for you, right? This is Limbo, after all.” I gestured around the creepy library with a sweep of my arm. “An undead Christmas tree is just the thing we need to spruce this place up. Heh, get it? Spruce tree?”
By the deep V between his brows, he didn’t know what cake had to do with any of this.
