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  Gavriel convulsed as spasm after spasm rocked through him with no outlet, until Lucifer relented and speared his slit open again. Come gushed from his cock in long, thick bursts and the most beautiful sound—the sound souls made when they slipped free to Heaven—rang from him.

  Gavriel went lax in his arms, not an ounce of resistance in him. He wasn’t heavy, but his laxness was a reproach. Lucifer should be doing his job now, not cradling this mortal, but Gavriel was so limp, so sated. With a blink, Lucifer transported them both to his bedchamber.

  The Devil didn’t need a bedchamber. His body didn’t require sleep and he’d certainly never had an overnight guest before, but a master suite had come with the place and he used it as a getaway in between tormenting repentant souls.

  Here the only fire that burned was a cozy crackle in the fireplace. When there were screams playing, it was because he was having some quality alone time. And the walls were lined not with instruments of torture but with bookshelves. Eternity was a long time. A person would go crazy without something to read.

  He didn’t need to sleep, but sometimes he slept, out of boredom or inertia. Today he lay with an unconscious Gavriel sprawled over him. He was still buried inside Gavriel, though he’d shrunk his cock to a more human size so as not to disturb his sleep. He nuzzled at Gavriel’s neck, licking over the healing puncture marks there.

  It would all heal. Gavriel might look and feel like he had a corporal body—he undoubtedly believed he had a corporal body—but he didn’t. Gavriel’s body would always return to its original state, to however Gavriel himself saw it, and so the marks he’d left would fade.

  The puncture wounds would close, the brands and burns would unpucker, becoming smooth, tender skin again. Even as Lucifer thought about it, the adornment he’d pressed into Gavriel pinged free as his nipple expanded to its normal, uncompressed state.

  He reluctantly slid his cock out of Gavriel’s ass so that too could heal. His dick felt raw and unprotected, like air was too rough after the silky, smooth passage he’d been embedded in, like he needed to be back in there. He pulled Gavriel a little tighter against him so that Gavriel’s breath feathered against his neck, deep and even. Gavriel murmured a sound of appreciative agreement and somehow went even more limp.

  Lucifer sighed in something like contentment, even as he chastised himself for taking this time. There was a lobby full of repentant souls waiting for him. And why was Gavriel even still here? If he’d been adequately punished, he’d be in Heaven now, believing Heaven was where he belonged. Lucifer had been doing this job long enough that it never took him more than one try to make someone feel sufficiently punished anymore.

  He’d failed Gavriel.

  Gavriel stirred in his arms. His light-lashed eyes fluttered open. He stretched, rubbing himself against Lucifer like a cat loving on its favorite human.

  “Hungry,” he mewled, furthering the cat metaphor, the precious, sleepy thing.

  Lucifer materialized a plate of finger foods and fed them into Gavriel’s pretty mouth one bit a time, placing squares of cheese and sections of orange between his lips and letting Gavriel suck in his fingers with the food. Gavriel’s pink tongue wrapped around his claws despite the steamy sizzle that accompanied every lick.

  “You don’t need food, you know,” Lucifer told him. “Your body is an illusion.”

  “But it’s yummy.”

  Gavriel opened his mouth for another bite, guilelessly baring his throat as he tilted it back to receive the chocolate-covered strawberry Lucifer dangled into it. He snapped off a bite, nipping at Lucifer’s fingers with his pearly teeth.

  “You don’t need to sleep either,” Lucifer told him.

  “But I enjoyed that too. And so did you.”

  Gavriel stopped eating to curl back into Lucifer’s side. Lucifer had to admit he’d never spent so many hours in a row relaxing. It was nice, but the growing crowd of people waiting for his attention weighed on him.

  He eased Gavriel’s body off his own and snapped away the platter of food.

  “Why are you still here?” he asked as harshly as he could manage considering they’d just been snuggling. “You should be in Heaven already. I have other souls to work on, you know.”

  “Go do what you need to do,” Gavriel told him as he stretched out across the bed. “I won’t be jealous.”

  “Jealous? This is my job.”

  “I know. I won’t let it bother me. Go on, I’ll be here when you get back. Promise.”

  He found himself agreeing, then realized what he was agreeing to.

  “No, don’t be here,” he ordered. “Go to Heaven. Go.”

  “I promise,” Gavriel repeated, and Lucifer knew he wasn’t promising to go Heaven. He wasn’t promising that at all.

  ~~~

  He gave Gavriel one more crank, lifting him off the ground by the hook embedded in his ass. It wasn’t one of those anal hooks mortals made with a nice round ball on the end. No, this was Hell. Hell’s hooks were sharp and flared and very, very hook-like and Lucifer had jammed one up Gavriel’s ass without a bit of lube, making him squeal and almost try to escape in that not-quite-serious way he had that really pushed Lucifer’s buttons.

  Around Gavriel’s throat was a wide collar. A short tether connected the collar to the hook. Gavriel could lean into the collar to take some weight off his ass, but only at the expense of cutting off the air his human brain told him he needed. Lucifer loved predicament bondage. Damned if you did, damned if you didn’t. Wasn’t that just Hell in a nutshell? Watching Gavriel squirm on the hook as he struggled to keep himself upright was making Lucifer’s already-hard dick pulse and weep.

  When he’d gotten back to his room after tearing with reckless speed through the backlog of souls waiting to be tormented, he’d found Gavriel curled up on his couch with a book in his hand. His impatience to find out if Gavriel was, in fact, still waiting in his bedchamber (even though he shouldn’t be) had him bursting through the door with extra ferociousness. He’d lifted Gavriel up and carried him to bed and fucked him with only enough sadistic torture to get them both off.

  Now Hell’s reception room was empty. Only one soul remained to be tormented, and Lucifer had that one soul strung up—his feet dangling and his hands hooked to his collar with that damnable erection sticking out like a flag pole in front of him.

  This time Lucifer meant business. No more Mr. Nice Devil.

  “You enjoyed that yesterday,” he posited, hissing out the words to convey that Gavriel was in trouble.

  “Mm,” Gavriel agreed, sounding breathless but not repentant. His body revolved slowly as it dangled. Lucifer halted the circling with a hand to his cock. He slid up and down, his rough, heated paw snagging on the silky skin.

  “Tell me what you liked about it,” he ordered, but only so he could do the opposite.

  “Your nails, how they’re so sharp and hot. I liked the way you scorched me, the marks it left wherever you touched.”

  “Like this?” He traced a fingertip around Gavriel’s nipple and Gavriel’s resulting moan answered the question—yes, like that. He continued the loop he’d drawn, running his nail down Gavriel’s chest, then making another swoop and continuing across his body so that the line of burnt flesh formed a cursive capital L.

  A shame that would heal, really. Gavriel looked nice wearing the Devil’s signature.

  Gavriel seemed to think so too. He’d dropped his head, despite what that did to his air supply, to admire the elegant whorls.

  “What else?” Lucifer asked. The point wasn’t to cater to Gavriel’s desires. The point was to find a way past them.

  “Your cock.” Gavriel wiggled himself upright again, settling his weight back on the hook buried in his ass. “This is nice, but your cock was bigger. And hotter. Like being fucked by a branding iron. A really thick branding iron.”

  He smirked at Lucifer and arched his back, driving the hook deeper. His head tipped all the way back and his cock stuck out ramrod straig
ht, taunting Lucifer with his complete failure to make this experience sufficiently horrifying to send Gavriel’s soul up to Heaven where it belonged.

  He gave Gavriel a spin, standing back to admire his body as it revolved—first cock, then ass, then a profile peek at both. He put out his hand, fingernails fully extended, and let it trail along Gavriel’s flesh, carving grooves across his abdomen, down his back and ass, catching at his balls and cock.

  “Tell me,” he demanded, suffering a pang of inadequacy because he’d never had to flat-out ask one of his victims how to make them suffer before. “Tell me what you need to feel sufficiently punished.”

  “Ooh, that,” Gavriel said as Lucifer’s nails nipped at the head of his cock. “CBT.”

  “CBT?”

  “Yeah, squeeze my balls. Squeeze ’em really—”

  Gavriel screamed when Lucifer wasted no time in complying. He squeezed harder, listening to the shrieks ratchet higher, loving every one of them. He squeezed until he’d certainly have ruptured something if Gavriel had an actual body, but he didn’t, and the harder Lucifer clamped his hand around those spongy, resistant globes, the louder Gavriel screeched, the more desperately he thrashed, until Lucifer himself was the one suffering. He was so fucking hard he didn’t need immortal magic to swell his dick to superhuman size.

  He lunged forward and jammed his mouth against Gavriel’s, thrusting his tongue inside the orifice that screamed out its pain.

  It wasn’t the first time their mouths had touched because Gavriel, when not strung up on a rack or spinning on a meat hook, was an affectionate man. He’d run his hands and lips all over Lucifer while they’d been cuddling (cuddling, God, he was so going to get teased for that), but those kisses had been chaste, affectionate. This was raw, wet, demonic. Lucifer owned Gavriel’s mouth, sucking down his screams, taking what breath he had left, filling him with his own hunger.

  None of which was getting Gavriel any closer to Heaven.

  He stepped back and took stock again.

  “Is your tongue forked?” Gavriel asked. “It’s so … pointy.”

  He stuck out his tongue and allowed it to unroll to its full length, then licked lasciviously up the side of Gavriel’s neck. The dual points dug small tracks into his skin.

  Gavriel giggled. Actually giggled.

  Lucifer pushed him. His playfulness sent Gavriel’s suspended body in a wide arc towards the other side of the fiery pit he was strung over. As Gavriel swung back towards him, Lucifer summoned a paddle into his hand and used it to crack at Gavriel’s ass when it returned. Gavriel squeaked as he flew back across the flames from the force of the blow.

  Back and forth Gavriel went, Lucifer swinging for the stands with both hands on the paddle like it was a baseball bat. He’d never had the chance to play any mortal games and this was fun, both to see how far he could send Gavriel flying and for the sight of his increasingly-red ass as it returned after each trip.

  He turned down the tortured-souls soundtrack which was drowning out the sound of the paddle against Gavriel’s skin in an irritating way. The lower volume level allowed him to hear that Gavriel wasn’t just moaning happily when the paddle came into contact with his ass, he was also making a rather gleeful whee sound as he swung across the gaping hole that led to the lowest levels of Hell.

  Lucifer stopped him by catching him around his waist. He pulled Gavriel against his body, snuggling Gavriel’s plump, red ass up against the dripping tip of his cock. Whether Gavriel was suitably chastised or not, he had to be inside him.

  He ripped free the hook that suspended Gavriel and dropped him onto his cock before his gaping hole had time to close. He wrapped a hand around Gavriel’s balls and yanked and then he didn’t even have to thrust. Gavriel jerked and squirmed and writhed so hard, that he only had to hold on and he was coming, filling Gavriel with what felt like years’ worth of come.

  Come spurted likewise from the tip of Gavriel’s cock. It dripped over his fingers, telling him that he’d failed Gavriel once again.

  ~~~

  “This should have gone away.” He trailed a finger lightly over the L carved around Gavriel’s nipple. All the other marks from their earlier torture session had faded, but the L remained as distinct, as harsh as when he’d carved it there.

  “Why should it have gone away?” Gavriel asked. “It’s your mark. It belongs there.”

  He shook his head, understanding now why the brand remained when the rest was gone. If his mark was part of how Gavriel envisioned his body, it couldn’t be removed, even if he tried to remove it himself, which he had no desire to do. Gavriel was right—it belonged there.

  The rest though—the welts and bruises—had healed like they’d never been there. If Gavriel could survive any torture, including having his nuts crushed in a Satanic vice, if he magically regenerated back to his original state no matter what Lucifer did to him, how could he ever wear him down? Gavriel would always heal, no matter what heinous torture Lucifer inflicted on him.

  Which gave him some ideas …

  But that wasn't the point. The point was that Gavriel ought to be in Heaven by now. He’d been punished. Twice.

  “Look,” he said, pushing Gavriel off his body and sitting up into a more formal position. “We’re not supposed to spell out how this works, but I’m just going to go ahead and explain it to you so you can be on your way. There is no Hell. No one stays here. It’s a sham—soundtracks and stage props, designed to give people what they think they deserve so they’ll believe they’ve paid their debt. Then tinkle-tinkle—” Lucifer made a wavy motion with his fingers to illustrate “—up their souls go to God.”

  Gavriel nodded and attempted to pull Lucifer back down into the bed. As though Gavriel could budge him if he didn’t want to be budged. Nevertheless, he slid down a little and let Gavriel lean in on him.

  “Right,” he continued, almost having forgotten his point. “So, you’re forgiven for—” he made wavy hands again “—whatever. God was never mad at you to begin with. He loves you just the way you are, knows you were doing your best even when you screwed up, etc., etc.”

  “I know,” Gavriel said. “God loves all his children. Even the kinky ones.”

  “Then go.” He gestured upwards even though there was no particular physical direction that led to Heaven. “Up you go to God, because you can’t stay here. There's only one being who lives here and that’s me.”

  “Well, now there’s two of us,” Gavriel said with absolute certainty. He snuggled deeper into the bed and into Lucifer, like he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “If you won’t go, I’ll send you myself.” He was determined to put an end to this farce.

  Gavriel snorted. “You know you can’t make me leave if I’m not ready to go.”

  “But you don't deserve to be here! Your record is spotless, you’ve done nothing wrong. Whatever you think you need to be punished for, you don’t. I promise.” He’d pored over Gavriel’s records and found nothing. “You’re a good man, Gavriel, the best. You don’t belong in Hell.”

  “But Lucifer.” Gavriel put a hand on his chin and turned his head so they were looking at each other. “This isn't Hell. This is Heaven. Our heaven. I was made to be here. I was made for you.”

  “Why would anything be made for me?”

  “God loves all his children, remember? That includes you.”

  “If God loves me so much, then why do I reign in Hell?”

  “Because you're good at it and you enjoy it.”

  “I do enjoy it,” he admitted. Even before Gavriel, he’d found his work highly satisfying. It was just …

  “You've been lonely.”

  Lonely, yes. He’d been lonely for the last however many passages of time. Terribly, terribly lonely.

  The torturing was good, but it was missing something—the joy, the connection with another soul who enjoyed it as much as he did. And then there was afterwards, when the tortured soul would make its transition to Heaven leaving him alone again,
which felt … lonely.

  It was a misconception that the Devil was pure evil. Once he got his rocks off, he always came down with a terminal case of the cuddles, not that he got off that often. Although many of his visitors believed they deserved to be tortured, very few thought they deserved to be raped, and non-consensual sex was just that—rape.

  But it hadn't been rape with Gavriel. It’d been … love.

  Something like love. Something like what he’d thought he’d never get to experience when he left Heaven with all its bullshit happiness and light to become the reigning Prince of Darkness. Fallen angels didn't deserve love.

  Did they?

  “You were made for me?”

  He'd been so angry at God over his banishment, but maybe God had sent him to the one place where he—warped, fallen angel—could be happy. And maybe he'd needed this time alone too, the way the mortals did, to suffer before he could truly believe he was forgiven. Before his soul could rise to Heaven.

  “For you,” Gavriel affirmed. He pointed to the brand on his chest. “God loves you and wants you to be happy. I’m here to stay, Lucifer. I’m here to share your heaven.”

  The Devil had never been known to cry. But that day, Lucifer did.

  The END

  Omega Reclaimed

  "Of course I smelled him—smelled him and was drawn to him. Rich, ripe, male omega—not far away and well into his heat. Unsatisfied heat. I laughed, realizing that in this moment, at least, the omega was the boss of the alpha. I needed to help him."

  Angel, an alpha who's left the violent, strictly hierarchical rules of his pack to find success in the big city, and Leo, an omega on the run from his abusive alpha, are thrust together to satisfy Leo’s urgent heat-lust. But can a once-hurt omega ever trust an alpha to care for and protect him again? And can an alpha sensitive to social injustice learn to enjoy his naturally dominant nature?