Page 11 of The Devil You Know

“It’s pretty easy,” he explained while styling his long hair. “It’s just twists in the right direction and passing the strands over each other. See?”

He ended up with a rope braid in his hair and it was quite fetching. I regretted keeping my hair so short as I would love to have those long fingers carding through my tresses. Instead, I learned how to weave braids into the angel’s hair. I even carved a comb for him, squaring off against a piece of wood with only a primitive knife made of sharpened rock until I deemed the gift ready.

Over the days we exchanged stories and shared silences. Even in strife, there were bright points of light.

“You should eat more,” Michael insisted, pushing a coconut bowl filled with soup towards me.

“I don’t wanna,” I said miserably.

Since yesterday, I had been puking my guts out and having a slight fever. Fortunately, the worst seemed to have passed, but I still felt a bit queasy looking at the offered food, so I kept being a useless pancake, sprawled on our bed of straw, starfished and grumpy. After much trial and error, we had a clay bowl suitable to brew water or cook food in, but I still managed to catch a stomach bug. Or deadly bacteria. But as I was getting better I hoped it was either going to pass fully or be one of those illnesses that took years to kill you – I had high hopes of returning to being a demon before a trifle like that could off me, thank you very much.

I had to suffer for now... but there was a particular little something that could improve my day.

“It’s your turn to take care of me now,” I said, my eyes hooded.

“I am taking care of you.” Michael raised a quizzical brow at me. “Do you need anything?”

“I mean take care take care,” I stretched into a fetching pose, winking at Michael. He better get with the program fast, I thought, because I was too tired to keep posing like one of his French girls.

“Oh,” Michael made a small noise of realization, and I let myself ungracefully melt back into the bedding. “I... you want my mouth? Or for me... to... to take you?”

“I want whatever you want to give,” I huffed. “But I wouldn’t mind you fucking my brains out.”

“It’s just... you have never... you know, before,” the angel fumbled.

I grinned with all my teeth.

“Past me was stupid and didn’t discover the joys of bottoming yet. I believe in ‘let them do all the work’ supremacy now. This Barbie is a pillow princess now.”

“Barbie? What’s a pillow princess?”

“Ah, you are just a Ken,” I said fondly. “Screw me and I will show you what a pillow princess is. Though we have a distinct lack of pillows...”

In response, Michael shucked his worn tunic off, bundled it, and set it under my head. I gave a satisfied hum. Yes, that’s exactly how a princess should be treated.

The angel trailed a series of tiny kisses down my neck, mere brushes of lips bringing my skin into sensitivity, before he started taking my clothes off. Gently, reverently, just how I wanted. Michael may not have known human movies or memes, but he had good instincts that guided him in the right direction. I coaxed him further with subtle sounds of contentment slipping from between my lips. Once Michael had me naked, he spent what felt like hours applying his tongue and clever fingers to my body, exploring every inch of my skin, cataloguing every difference I made to it in the millennia since we saw each other. I groaned softly as he lapped at my nipples, wetting them, circling them with his thumbs, making the small peaks harden. Only when he was satisfied that my body was primed for optimal pleasure did he move lower.

My breath caught in my lungs as Michael kissed down my happy trail and looked up at me with such a loving gaze I had to close my eyes or I would have said something I couldn’t take back.

When those soft lips closed over my cock, tongue circling my slit, I shuddered.

“Yes, make me feel good, sweetheart,” I urged, and stretched before putting my hands under my head, shamelessly getting comfortable while Michael worked to pleasure me.

This scenario had to be working for the angel because the amount of saliva around my cock was positively obscene. I felt drenched in it and every slide of my lover’s head, up and down, up and down, produced the dirtiest sounds I could imagine. Especially when the angel tried to swallow my cock down his throat. It should have been easier than usual as I didn’t bother to move and he had all the control, but it seemed Michael wanted to gag himself on my thick length. He made the blowjob sloppy and dirty on purpose.

Stars, the thought was getting me so hot I was instantly on the brink of coming. Should I do it? And then be fucked into a second orgasm, which would make me an oversensitive wreck? It turned out coming multiple times really wasn’t that easy when you were a human – you had to wrench the orgasm out of your body. And today I wanted it easy. One powerful climax would do.

“Mmm, come on, put your dick in me. Making your princess wait is, ah! Rude,” I got out between my moans.

Michael pulled off my cock with something like disappointment in his gaze, but his stare brightened in a flash as his attention shifted to his next target. We managed to produce something resembling oil from coconuts – the process definitely needed some fine tuning, but the end product was still better than saliva – and Michael made liberal use of it. Oiled fingers found the way to my entrance to give me the royal treatment; the digits massaged, circled, pressed gently inside and, as soon as two of them stretched my hole, Michael targeted my sweet spot, pressing into it even as he prepared me, turning the Big Bad Demon Lucifer into a pile of goo.

“Like this?” the angel dared to ask.

“Mph! Ah! There!” was my less than coherent answer.

As my hazy gaze trained onto the ceiling of our home cave, I wondered if coming twice was a choice or inevitability. It just felt too good, and I wasn’t sure if I would last long enough. Just as I was on the brink of giving up and letting myself go my lover pulled his fingers out.

I blinked at him blearily. He looked at me and kept our gazes locked as he sank into me.

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