Page 24 of Death C*mes Inside Her
I do my best to ignore his incessant banter as I squeeze the taut flesh, squirting milk across my tongue, while her thigh slides against my hip. She smells like sleep and salt and something sweet that didn’t exist in our life a year ago.
Our son is down the hall, quiet at last. He’s my only competitor for the sweet nectar that flows from my wife’s tits. Not that I begrudge Riven his fill of her milk, there’s plenty for both of us, and he is my offspring, after all. But I was here first, and Eve started to produce her milk almost as soon as she was impregnated.
When she complained that her tits ached, I instinctively knew what to do. If demon saliva can heal a wound, why wouldn’t our mouths be good at easing the pain of lactation? Even skull-mouths like mine?
Well, it turns out that the simple act of suckling makes all the difference, and I found I have a taste for it. My cock is going to be satisfied, because I’ll keep her pregnant as long as possible fromnow on. I love when she’s round and full, I’ve found a new love for our child, and I never want to end my addiction to her milk.
In fact, if she ever decides she has enough babies, I’ll nurse enough to keep her milky for eternity.
It’s unusual for a demon to have children. Her gestation took nearly thirteen months, her body turned soft and round, and she was as horny for me as I was—and am—for her.
Most of my kind aren’t born, but are formed from darkness and dust by our master. In fact, there are some in the underworld who would like to destroy our child just for existing, calling it blasphemy against the Big Man.
They’d like to, but I would tear hell itself a new one before I let them touch a single hair on Riven’s pretty little head.
And it really is a beautiful head. Perhaps not beautiful in the same way as my skull, but in its own way even more perfect.
Riven has soft, silvery skin. Not gray like mine but pale like his mother’s, with just a hint of moonlight that sharpens his cheekbones when he smiles, as he so often does. His hair, too, is pale and fine like Eve’s. He doesn’t have talons, but he does have dark, sharp little nails that will be a promise of power when he grows older.
After his birth, we left the old manor for this weathered house above the breakwater. At that point, Eve was on seventy-nine souls delivered, and we were struggling to reap more without drawing undue attention from human law enforcement in the small town where the house stood.
Not that law enforcement can do much against a demon and his mate, but they can still be a frustration to the soul-reaping process.
Besides, Eve had certain… requirements… when it came to the souls she sent to the underworld.
They had to be evil. Truly evil. And not just greed like the bank manager.
Eve insisted that the people she reaped had to meet her own definition of bad. Abusers, murderers, those who spread hate and suffering.
She takes particular pleasure in inflicting pain on those who would harm the helpless. Any being that has hurt a child, an animal, or anyone who is not capable of fighting back. Let’s just say, my sweet little innocent Eve takes her time and comes away smiling and soaked in blood.
So fuckinghot.I usually fuck her filthy right there, covered in the slick crimson liquid next to the dead body. I have discovered many kinks. Outside of being her Daddy, and my milk fetish, I get irrationally turned on by watching her kill someone. The more violent, the better.
Sue me.
My wife loves how feral she makes me, and her little pussy has become my fucking drug.
It’s strange to say it, but I admire her even more for her morals, and I’ve been learning to direct my own powers in a way that benefits the weak and powerless, too.
So here we are, in a sprawling house by the water, where we’ve found enough souls that meet Eve’s specifications in order tocomplete the transaction. And the Big Man is as pleased as I am, gladly keeping his end of the bargain. In fact, he’s offered to make a new one if we’d be willing to reap more souls.
Eve is currently considering it, but we might have to move again if we want to find more potential victims, and my wife is a homebody. She much prefers to read, dote on me and our child, take my cock whenever it suits me, and be indulged by her Daddy in any way she likes.
Eve tips my chin with two fingers. “You’re thinking.”
“Only about how lucky I am.” I hook her knee over my waist and lower my weight until she feels all of me, not just the cold edges. “About how you turned into the world’s sweetest, most beautiful soul reaper,” I rumble into her throat. “My beautiful Eve.”
“They all deserved it,” she answers, laughing under her breath.
My turn now, demon! I want in there, stop talking! Fuck her. FUCK HER!
I find her hand, pulling her up from the bed toward the thick fur rug in front of the embers glowing low in the stone fireplace.
The air hums with the scent of the fire and her sweetness.
“Riven sleeps,” I rumble, pulling her into my chest, a wall of gray muscle that shimmers like ash against the firelight.
She melts against me, sighing into my ribs as I tilt her chin up with a talon.
