“He can’t heal from this! No one can,” I snapped, throwing out an arm to show where the bandage was already turning red with blood. The pressure wasn’t enough, and every moment wasted was another moment closer to death. If he’d been mortal, he’d have been dead almost instantly.
“If you want him healed so badly, little Red witch, then do it yourself. It makes no difference to me either way,” he said, turning and striding out the open door. He pulled it closed behind him, leaving me to spin and look at Beelzebub. My hands were soaked in his blood, covered in the sign of his impending death.
It wasn’t exactly a good way to set the mood, but I screamed my frustration. At war with myself, I tore my pants down my legs, shucking them off and pacing back and forth along the floor at his bedside.
I’d said I’d do anything. I hadn’t planned onthis.
The bed was still beneath me as I sat down on the edge, placing one hand on top of his thigh. His pants had been torn open in various places, his wounds visible through the gaps. I slid my hand into one of them, touching the bare skin above one of his wounds. He was cold beneath my touch, too fucking cold to walk away from this if I didn’t do the one thing I’d forbidden myself to do all my life.
There wasn’t much that could make me do this, that could make me desperate enough to brave the one thing that terrified me more than anything else. To risk the high of an orgasm, to feel that crush of pleasure that consumed so many, felt like condemning myself to the addiction I’d been born into. Like dancing with temptation, even knowing I would walk off the floor with scars that ran deeper than any wound could reach.
I shook my head as I slid my free hand into my underwear, willing to risk that if it meant Beelzebub would walk away from this. If it meant his death wouldn’t hang on my shoulders, the memory of him racing across the burning plains to reach me,of the way he swung his scythe through the air like an avenging God.
He’d come for me, been there when I needed him the most, and the least I could do was return the favor.
There wasn’t a hint of arousal to be found, but I spread my legs wider and leaned my ass against the footboard of the bed, rubbing my fingers over the flesh at the apex of my thighs. I whimpered when nothing happened, when I couldn’t get his bloody form off my mind. I closed my eyes, shutting out the visual of his suffering, and focused on the memory of the night we’d spent in Lust. I focused on the feeling of him between my legs as I straddled him, on what I’d felt when I ground against him. Sliding my fingers lower, I let one glide inside to mimic the motions I imagined he would have made if he hadn’t stopped me.
The respect he’d shown, the restraint, had only made him more beautiful, and I added a second finger with that thought in mind. My body answered, responding with a slickness that coated my fingers. I moaned, the sound soft and foreign to my ears.
I’d never made that sound before Beel. Never felt even a hint of what so many had been desperate for.
My body warmed with the tingle of magic as my body tightened, the warmth spreading through my belly and sinking in deep. Another whimper as the heel of my palm ground against my clit, the pressure adding to the pleasure as it built within me.
A masculine groan came from the other side of the bed, making me fling my eyes open in shock.
Beelzebub stared back.
32
BEELZEBUB
Margot’s hand stilled, her eyes wide as she moved to take her hand from her own underwear. I struggled to wrap my mind around what I saw, around what she’d been willing to do to bring me back.
“Don’t stop,” I grunted, sitting up slowly. My body ached, every inch of me throbbing with the massive number of injuries covering my body. My throat was sore, the flesh torn and unforgiving. Even though the bleeding had stopped, Margot’s magic serving to accomplish that much so far, it would take time to heal the wounds that would have killed me otherwise.
But none of that pain changed the fact that I was already harder than a rock in my pants, staring at Margot’s delicate fingers as she moved them slowly and gently once again.
I swallowed thickly, desperate to replace them with mine but not willing to break this moment. It mattered to me, knowing what I did now, that Margot’s first orgasm came at her own hand. That it wasn’t something I’d given to her, but something she took for herself. A pleasure she should have never deprived herself of, hers to claim anew.
“Beel,” she said, her voice breaking off with the barest hint of a sob. I knew the emotions clogging her throat were at risk of chasing away the desire I felt in the air, the scent of it sweet and thickas it tangled with her magic, touching my wounds and working to heal them slowly.
“I’m right here, songbird,” I said, attempting to chase away the thoughts of just how close I’d been to death. The thought of her making her way through Hell alone nearly killed me, especially when she’d been so close to death herself before I found her. She moved her hand, shifting it higher as two fingers moved beneath the fabric of her underwear. She circled her clit, her head dropping back ever so slightly as her mouth fell open. “I want to see you,” I said, keeping my voice gentle.
I didn’t dare move as her eyes widened, her stare searching my eyes, and I knew she was weighing her options. Deciding if this was something she wanted to allow the man who’d just claimed she meant nothing only an hour prior. I waited for her signal, my heart in my throat as she nodded slowly, standing from the bed with a slow, cautious ease that made me want to whisper in her ear, to tell her everything would be alright.
She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties, hesitating to slide them down for me. I moved to the edge of the bed, covering her hands with mine and helping her guide them down slowly. Her breath hitched when my seated position put my mouth so close to her, so near where I wanted to kiss more than anything I could ever remember wanting before.
Instead, I forced myself back to the bed with a groan, watching as she settled herself back against the footboard. With my legs out of her way, she spread her own farther, dropping them open so I could see all of her. She arched her back over the footboard ever so slightly, putting her pussy on display for me as she touched herself again. The sight of her delicate fingers dancing over her flesh nearly brought me to my knees. A moan dragged its way up my throat as the wound on my neck pulsed with fresh warmth.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I rasped, watching her as she ran her tongue over her dry lips. She reached lower between her legs, pumping two fingers into her pussy with slow glides. Myhand rose slowly, touching myself through my pants. I couldn’tnotadjust myself with how perfect she was spread out for me, her long legs crossing the bed and creamy flesh so soft as she moaned.
“I want to see you,” she said, her voice tentative. Uncertain, but her gaze dropped to my groin, to the hand that had taken to stroking myself through the fabric.
I froze, everything in me stilling as I tried to understand the best path forward from this moment. Did I trust that she knew what she wanted, or did I try to hold her back so she wouldn’t regret this?
“Are you sure?” I asked, taking in the quick and sharp nod. There was no hesitation in the affirmation as her hips thrust forward, pressing more firmly into her own hand as she worked herself slowly, tenderly. She was learning her body, taking the time to understand what she liked as I watched, and the knowledge would be something I planned to use to my advantage very fucking soon.
I paid attention to each quickening of her breath, to each gasp and moan, to the movements of her hand that had earned them. As I tugged my pants down over my ass, I learned her body as she did. It might not have been my hands on her, my fingers buried in her pussy, but I memorized everything she liked all the same. Margot whimpered as my cock sprang free, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. I knew what the angle would reveal, the piercing on the underside of my cock where it met my balls. I wrapped a hand around my length where it curved up toward my stomach, stroking it gently as Margot’s attention remained fixed on the touch.
