Page 7 of Roses for the Damned

No one had ever escaped him, unless he wished it so. Like that filthy cockroach that had believed himself to be a god in his own right when he had assaulted his precious flower, one that was much weaker than him and incapable of retaliating.

Rose.

The very memory of her battered body sent him into a raging fit. Had the man been alone, Gabriel would not have spared him. He would have instead taken his sweet time torturing him before draining him of his disgusting blood. But Gabriel had been well aware of how it would appear to others, and he did not want Rose to take the blame for the worm’s death.

He cracked his neck, anticipation of the kill that was owed to him simmering in his veins. He would have come to her aid much sooner had he foreseen what that rat had in store for her. For Gabriel had his eye on Rose for quite some time, had observed her every night for the past couple of months as she had obliviously made her way home from her place of work.

It had been mere coincidence when he had first lain eyes on her. He had been perched atop his usual spot when a flash of purple had caught his attention. It was as if someone had switched on a light in his soul at that very moment, one that only continued to burn until it had ignited a need so great within him that he could not extinguish it, no matter how hard he tried.

It was maddening, ever consuming.

Had he not been confined to the cathedral grounds, he would have long swooped in and snatched Rose up, locking her in his tower where he would worship her for the rest of her days.

But alas, it could not be, and so he had settled for the little snippets of her from a distance, his gaze following her until she was too far away to be seen even by his highly keen eyesight.

Gabriel was no stranger to murder and violence, it had never made him uncomfortable for he had been a part of it himself, had the pleasure of killing and maiming for thousands of years before the very first civilization of man sprang forth. But unlike the general misconception that demons were inertly evil creatures that stole what they wished without an ounce of remorse, there was a simple rule that him and all of his fellow comrades adhered to – they never took a life that wasn’t deserving of death. And they never took liberties on another’s body that they did not give with their clear consent.

Free will was an absolute imperative for all beings of his kind, for the pleasure that they sought and gave in return could not be complete without it, without the knowledge that their partners were well aware of what they were getting themselves into. Who they were giving their bodies and souls to.

Gabriel had many lovers in his eons long life, from all over Earth and Hell itself. His appetites stretched far and wide, and did not shy away from the more darker shades of pleasure. Like pain. There was so much gratification in pain, if one only knew how to access it properly.

Humans were fragile beings, unfortunately, and he had to be very careful when dealing with them, for their levels of tolerance were far lower than those of demons. He didn’t want to break his toys before he even truly started playing with them.

His precious flower was no frail damsel, however. Gabriel had sensed as much after last night’s attack. She had fought viciously for her salvation, had fearlessly stood her ground when faced with Gabriel himself.

He was a gargoyle, an ancient demonic being and the cruelest of them all. He was well aware of his outer appearance, of the absolute terror that his form evoked in not only humans but other creatures as well. Yet, Rose had not even flinched when he had revealed himself to her. A miracle in its own right, one that he would have savored for hours on end had he not sensed that sweet aroma leaking from her drenched cunt, suffocating him, turning him into a feral animal that would have fucked her raw on the cathedral’s pristine marble floors had she not been assaulted mere hours before that.

Groaning, he imagined all the depraved things that he would have done to her had the circumstances been different. All the inches of her delectable body that his tongue would have licked, so thoroughly and languidly that nothing but a slick puddle of cum would have remained of her. Until she was utterly and completely useless to do anything but take his massive cock in every one of her little tight holes.

Oh, how he would stretch her. Fill her up until she was screaming his name in ecstasy for Hell and Heaven to hear.

He cracked his neck again, realization that he would probably never see his little human again causing sheer agony and lethal rage to rip through his monstrous heart.

The beast in him roared.

He must have her.

Possess her. Engrave himself into her fucking soul.

She will return, she must. And then he would claim her. No man would ever touch her again, Gabriel would make sure of that. He would give her a safe haven, a place away from the ugliness of the world. A home where she would be worshiped and where she would pray at his altar in return.

His strong female would never want for anything in her life as long as she was by his side.

“Gabriel!”

His head snapped around at the voice. She’s here. For the first time in his existence, hope blossomed in his chest. She, too, must have felt their shared connection; he wasn’t being delusional after all.

“Gabriel, where are you?”

Without waiting another moment, he flew from his spot, using the shadows of the inner hall to crawl closer to her until he was seated on one of the statues, the light of the dying day seeping through the giant rose window like a halo above his dark form.

A pretty little burgundy day dress covered her lush curves today, her ample breasts pressed tightly to her form as the mounds spilled slightly over the edge of the fabric, enticing him, urging him on to rip it down the middle until her perk nipples sprang free.

Drool collected in his mouth as he imagined licking them, sucking them. Biting them to oblivion.

Patience, Gabriel. You don’t want to scare her away.

Her hair was loose again, the thick waves coming down to the small of her back, a slightly disheveled look overtaking them, as if she had been running in the wind for hours. Eyes like two ebony jewels sparkled in the dim light, creamy skin tempting him to dirty her. Mark her. Fucking brand her with his touch.

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