“Isn’t Ramel going to be pissed? He punched Mike across the face just for touching me!” I tried to reason with him, straining away as he slowly crawled closer to me, grinning like a cat with a mouse.
“I am not Mike, and Ramel asked me to get you ready for him. He’s meeting with Rafael to work out the details of his negotiations with Yahweh next week. He’s going to want you wet and needy by the time he returns.”
“Shem, you don’t have to do this; we’ve been friends for years!” I protested, still trying to reconcile the man I had worked with and this twisted asshole who was going to just go along with Ramel’s plan.
“I know, Lil, but I’ve been friends with Ramel for much longer. Besides, you may not see it yet, but this is the way things are meant to be. Now, spread your legs.”
I glared at him. “No.”
“Lilith. Spread them, or I will make you.”
“Then you’re going to have to make me,” I spat. “There’s no fucking way I’m doinganythingyou say.”
He sighed and hit the button on the vibrator again, increasing its frequency. “You haven’t changed at all, Lil. Still a stubborn little Hell Queen.”
With a wave of his hand, I felt him take control of my soul, the same way Ramel always did. I screeched in rage. Shem forced my legs to bend and my knees to separate. He sidled up next to me and tugged on the sash of my robe, sliding it open to expose my breasts and stomach.
“I hate you,” I spat, and he chuckled as he gently ran the vibrating wand down the inside of my leg, slowly tracing closer and closer to my pussy, which was suddenly throbbing in anticipation.
Shem grinned at me, watching as my nipples pebbled. He moved the wand another inch closer to my traitorous, throbbing clit.
“Hell runs on hatred, Lilith.” He looked down at my cunt and rested the vibrator right in the crease of my thigh. It was close enough that I was beginning to feel the vibrations where I needed them most, but far enough away that it was excruciating and infuriating. Wetness pooled, and I suddenly felt myself begin to drip. Shem noticed too, and his smile widened.
“Stop fighting it, Lil. We’re going to make you feel so good.” Then he pressed the wand directly against my clit, and my entire body tried to reflexively arch and buck against Shem’s grip on my soul. I cried out, and he chuckled, holding it there while I panted.
“See? Doesn’t that feel nice?” he cooed, rocking the wand back and forth gently. My breathing became ragged, and I was rushing full speed to the edge when he suddenly backed off.
“Fuck! No, please, not this again,” I gasped, looking at Shem. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do another night of fucking edging.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get to come tonight, eventually. We just need to wait for Ramel to get here.” He reached forward and gripped the tip of one of my nipples, twisting it firmly. I gasped and tried to arch again, my hips burning in frustration.
Shem rubbed the vibrator back up and down the inside of my leg while he waited for me to come back down off the edge. He ran a finger up my cunt, holding it up to the light and checking for wetness.
To myhorror, he held his wet fingers up to my lips. I slammed my eyes shut and tried to jerk my head away—between the grip he had on my soul and the way I was chained to the bed, I could barely turn my head. He laughed at my inability to get away from him and rubbed his soiled fingers across my lips.
“Lick it up, Lilith. Taste how much you love being used.”
I tried to shake my head again, but it was no use. He forced his fingers into my mouth and rubbed them firmly against my tongue. When he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers out and gave me a dazzling smile.
“Good girl, Lilith. When you’re ready, we’ll go again. Let’s get you nice and wet.”
Alexa, play ‘Psycho,’ by Mia Rodriguez
“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.”
—SATAN, PARADISE LOST
Ileft Lilith with Hazai and told him to make sure she was ready for my return. In the meantime, I needed to run damage control at Voodoo with Rafael.
I knew he was still pissed that he had lost out on all the drunken confessions he had been hoping to collect from that bachelor party, but he would recover.
The church had been losing followers for years now. The Sorter of Souls was powered by confessions, so when Catholicism started falling out of favor, Yahweh was forced to turn to less… buttoned-up methods.
Humans may not have loved going to church like they used to, but they certainly loved to drink. Yahweh had learned that with loosened inhibitions, humans confessed all sorts of shit to each other, and these confessions were just being wasted on the drunken ears of their friends.
Voodoo was only one of several franchises Yahweh had built across the globe with the sole purpose of collecting confessions. He ran them all with an iron fist and usually came to collect His confessions on what He called His ‘quarterly reviews.’ Much like me, Yahweh had many names. Eloah was one of them, though He was most commonly referred to by the mortals as God.
Each of Yahweh’s stores was run by an ass-kissing archangel and staffed by either the damned or by young, burgeoning angels. Sometimes, the odd human would get mixed up in the operation, like Sara and Sam, for example. However, for the most part, everyone was in on it. Even Mike was an angel. He wasn’t a powerful one, but he was still an angel, which meant he was immortal as fuck.
