Where the Devil Don't Go, page 16
“What is it you want?” Keziah asked.
“I want to keep Sam forever. I want to stay here with you guys and learn more about magic and the worlds that live parallel to the human world. Nothing aboveground interests me. Nothing except the witches at the bookstore.”
“Keeping Sam means humans die. Keeping Sam means a war between the fallen. Is that something you can live with?” Lily asked before quickly adding, “No judgment. You’re literally the only human I have any real attachment to.”
“You’re obsessed with humans,” Christopher said.
Lily shrugged. “Well, yeah, but from, like, an anthropological standpoint. I like studying them, taking part in their rituals. Their behaviors and mannerisms are so…simple and cute. But, like, on a global scale, humans are kind of shitty. To themselves and to others.”
Christopher dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t want to be the reason humans die.”
“Even if it means losing Sam?” Keziah asked.
Christopher’s blood froze in his veins at the thought, but still, he nodded. “Even then,” he whispered.
“Then you need to go tell him so,” Lily said.
Christopher gave a stilted nod and stood, walking away stiffly, his whole body aching with sorrow. He felt like he was living his life on a loop. He wanted Sam, but keeping Sam meant innocents dying, so he couldn’t keep Sam, but he wanted Sam…needed him even. Round and round his thoughts went until he felt like screaming.
It took him another week to work up the courage to say any of this to the one person who needed to hear it. He waited until Sam was alone in his office before giving a timid knock and entering without waiting for permission.
Sam’s eyes widened, a tiny smirk appearing on his lips. “This is a surprise, pet. I’m not sure I have time to play. I have a meeting in”—he checked his phone—“half an hour.”
Christopher screwed up his courage. “I need you to finish your list.”
Sam didn’t get mad. He sighed, shaking his head. “Are we still on about this? You have to stop letting the others get in your head. They’re never going to come for me. This is all just mindless rumblings. Put it from your mind.”
“So, humans aren’t dying?” Christopher asked, narrowing his eyes.
Sam gave another heavy sigh. “That doesn’t concern you, pet. Just leave it to me.”
“But I can’t leave it to you because you’re just ignoring the problem,” Christopher snapped, then quickly slammed his mouth shut, covering it with his hand.
Sam’s brow rose, and he crooked his finger. Christopher’s heart slammed behind his ribs as he meekly moved forward, reminding himself that Sam wasn’t Vincent. When he was close enough, Sam pulled him into his lap until he straddled his thighs, his strong hands cupping Christopher’s ass.
Sam’s voice was a low rumble when he asked, “What did you say to me?”
Christopher opened and shut his mouth, his whole body trembling. “I—” he started, then stopped. “I said I can’t leave it up to you?”
“Is that a question, pet?” Sam asked, amused.
Christopher knew Sam’s punishments had little to do with his mood and more to do with what he thought Christopher needed pain-wise, but that was because Christopher did his best to never anger Sam, to never tell him no. But now, it was important. Now, people like him could get hurt. “No. It’s what I said.”
Sam ran a thumb along Christopher’s lower lip, then pushed it between his lips. “Someone’s feeling brave this morning.”
Christopher sucked on it obediently, eyelids fluttering shut, before remembering himself and slapping Sam’s hand away. “You’re just trying to distract me.”
Sam wasn’t deterred. His mouth found Christopher’s chin, then his throat, stopping only to purr against his ear, “Mm, you came to me, pet. When you enter my office in the middle of the day, it’s usually because you want my attention.” He captured Christopher’s lips in a deep kiss that had him whimpering into Sam’s mouth. “I’m just trying to give you what you want.”
Christopher squeaked as Sam’s large hand cupped his cock through his jeans. “Daddy,” he said, hating how scandalized he sounded.
Sam chuckled. “Yes, pet?”
Christopher ground himself against Sam’s hand even as he said, “Can you please—please not do that. Not yet.”
“Not yet?” Sam mused.
Christopher nodded. “I want it. It feels good. But I want to talk about the other thing first. It’s important to me.” When Sam’s hand went to his zipper, Christopher blurted, “Don’t I count?”
Sam froze. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, doesn’t it matter what I want?” Christopher clarified, trying to put more confidence into his voice. “Isn’t that what you’ve wanted from me this whole time?”
Sam tilted his head, his eyes bleeding sulfur. For a brief moment, Christopher wondered if he’d been wrong about everything, if maybe Sam had only wanted him because he was meek and docile.
Sam removed his hand. “Okay, pet. Let’s talk. What has you so upset?”
Christopher took a deep breath and let it out, his heart skipping a little. “Are humans really dying because you won’t finish your list?”
Sam seemed to consider his words carefully. “Humans are dying because lesser creatures have decided I’m too weak to punish them for their indiscretions. They’re about to learn how wrong they are.”
“It has nothing to do with your list?” Christopher asked, tone skeptical.
This time, it was Sam who looked away, mouth twisting with displeasure. “It’s not that simple, pet. There are a lot of people who are committing these acts for their own personal agenda.”
“That’s it? Some people are just killing humans because they think you’ve gone soft? There’s no impending war? Nobody wants to steal your throne?” Christopher pressed.
Sam’s jaw thrust forward, clearly irritated Christopher continued to press the issue. But he’d come too far. He deserved to be heard and to have his questions answered.
Finally, Sam said, “Yes, some are infuriated that I haven’t finished my list. They’re all desperate to know if the agreement with our father was real or just bullshit, but they’re all too cowardly to finish their own lists and test the agreement themselves. If I don’t complete my list, they’ll never know if they’ll find peace or if it was all a ploy by me to get them to destroy their own progeny.”
Christopher processed that information. Could it really all be that petty? Sure, it was a big deal. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have been roaming the earth for centuries, but they could just finish their own lists. Instead, they wanted Sam to risk himself first. He supposed asking demons to be selfless was a ridiculous request. “Oh.”
“Others see me as weak because of my softness for you,” Sam said.
Christopher rearranged himself until he was lying across Sam’s lap, cuddled in his arms. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you have a weakness for me?” Christopher asked in a rush, half afraid of the truth.
Sam studied Christopher closely, running his knuckles along Christopher’s cheek. “How can you even question that after all this time? You’re always in my thoughts whether sleeping or awake. I put you before all others.”
Tears sprang to Christopher’s eyes, but he brushed them away. “I don’t want to be a pawn in your war. I don’t want to be the reason people are dying. I want you more than I want my next breath, literally, but I can’t be the reason you don’t finish your list.”
“What are you saying, pet?”
Christopher’s chest squeezed until it felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “I’m saying I need you to finish your list. I need you to finish it for me.”
Sam’s yellow eyes glowed, his nostrils flaring. “I won’t leave you defenseless.”
“Then negotiate my safety. There are enough people invested in you completing your list. This seems like a small ask. No?” Christopher reasoned.
“You… You’re certain this is your wish?” Sam asked.
Christopher couldn’t bite back the sob that overwhelmed him. “I’m certain it’s the right thing to do.”
Sam pressed a long kiss to his forehead, wiping at Christopher’s tears. “Then I’ll set a date. Okay? A week? Maybe two? I’ll secure your safety, make sure you have everything you could ever need or desire. Then we’ll finish it. Alright? We’ll finish it. On our terms.”
Christopher nodded. Two weeks didn’t seem like nearly enough time. But nothing ever would.
“Okay, Daddy.”
Sam woke Christopher as he always did, by pressing his fingers into the tight heat of his body. Christopher responded as he always did, with a soft gasp that often turned into a whispered, “Daddy.”
Sam would miss that most. The shocky, breathless way Christopher said the honorific, like it was something holy. Sam supposed this union between them was as close to holy as a demon like him was ever likely to get. There was a time when the world saw him as something to be glorified. But those days were long gone. Now, he was something twisted and ugly, a monster in a fairy tale. Not even a fallen angel. No mention of his celestial origins at all. Now, they only knew him as one thing. Demon. A dark creature feeding off souls and lurking in shadows of old buildings and haunted houses.
But not to Christopher. From the moment Christopher saw him, claws and all, he saw him as something to be worshipped. And Sam worshipped him in turn. He wished Christopher could see that. Sam didn’t know love or softness, but he knew how to make him cry, whine, whimper, and moan. He knew how to push Christopher to the brink, how to push him over, how to turn his pain into the ultimate pleasure. Was that love?
“Open up for me, pet,” Sam demanded, his voice the gravel of his true form, even though his body was still human. For now. Christopher was laid on his side, but he bent his knee, bringing it to his chest, giving Sam better access. “Good boy.”
Christopher shivered, goosebumps erupting over him at the whispered words.
Sam didn’t wait for him to be ‘ready.’ He pulled out, returning with four fingers, twisting them as deep as they’d go until Christopher yelped sharply.
“You love it, don’t you? You love being stuffed so full, impaled on whatever part of me you can get inside you. My perfect little whore. Tell me.”
“Yes. I love it,” Christopher moaned.
“Are you my whore? Always so willing to beg for it.”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m your whore. Your little whore.”
“My perfect little whore,” Sam emphasized, his fingers working impossibly deep. He bet he could have put his whole hand in there and Christopher would have just said thank you while he rode it.
“Your…” Christopher whined. “Your perfect little whore.”
He stumbled over the word perfect but Sam didn’t chastise him. He knew it was hard for Christopher to see himself the way Sam did. “That’s right. My perfect whore. My perfect boy. So eager to be used.”
Once more, Christopher whined. Sam wished there was a way to file that sound in the darkest corner of his mind where he’d never forget how good he’d made the boy feel. But it wouldn’t matter. In just a few days, Sam would know nothing of Christopher…of anything. His world would be only dark nothingness.
Sam’s chest felt like it would burst from the injustice. Christopher was the only thing he’d ever wanted to keep for himself. The only thing he could ever call his own. He roughly worked his fingers in and out of him, covering Christopher’s mouth with his hand.
“Have to get you ready if you want me to fuck you in my true form,” he rasped against his ear.
Christopher groaned, looking up at Sam, his eyes already unfocused, lost in that place pain took him. It didn’t stop him from working himself on Sam’s fingers, his cries spurring him to move faster, go deeper.
When Sam couldn’t wait any longer, he pulled his fingers free and shifted, his body transforming. There was nothing better than slipping off that human skin. It was like wearing a suit that was too tight. But, in this form, he dwarfed Christopher, making him look tiny in comparison.
He slicked his cock, lining it up with Christopher’s entrance, once more slipping a hand over his mouth as he pressed forward. He grunted as he breached that first tight ring of muscle. Christopher struggled, his cries growing frantic from the pain, his hand reflexively shooting back to halt Sam’s invasion.
But there was no stopping him. He held the boy open, loved to see where they were joined, loved the sight of Christopher’s human form struggling to accept him in this form. His rim was stretched taut, barely able to contain him. There was something sick and perverse about it. The sight of his crimson skin pressing into that creamy pale flesh.
He worked himself deeper with each thrust while Christopher wailed behind Sam’s hand, his whole body sweaty with exertion, his nails scrambling for purchase on Sam’s thigh, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to pull him closer or force him away. But Christopher didn’t get to push Sam away. Christopher belonged to him, had given his body to Sam to use as he saw fit, and today, he needed to paint his release on the deepest part of Christopher, to breed him as if something could grow from their union.
Sam dropped his hand to Christopher’s throat, then forced him to his stomach so he could drive himself to the hilt. Christopher’s fingers fisted the sheets, canting his hips as if he couldn’t get enough.
“Who do you belong to?” Sam heard himself growl against Christopher’s cheek.
“You, Daddy,” Christopher sobbed.
“Say it again,” Sam demanded, slamming home hard enough to drive the breath from his lungs with each thrust.
“You, Daddy. I’m yours. Just yours,” Christopher gasped.
“Am I hurting you?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” he cried.
Sam tightened his hand around his throat. “Do you like it, pet? Do you like being taken, bred, used by a monster?”
“I love it. I love you. Please,” Christopher begged, though Sam wasn’t sure what he was asking for. “More. Harder. Hurt me. Please. Please. Break me. Destroy me.” He forced himself back on every one of Sam’s thrusts, like he was the sex toy. “I’m so close,” he cried.
God, he was fucking perfect. The perfect slave. The perfect fuck. The perfect boy. Sweet and giving and loving. Sam wasn’t even doing this for sexual gratification, he just wanted to be as close to him as nature allowed, needed to somehow show him if he had a choice, he’d choose him. If he could somehow absorb him and keep him with him forever, it still wouldn’t be enough time.
Sam’s orgasm hit him out of nowhere, causing him to crush Christopher to him as he emptied himself inside the tight heat of his body, all thoughts wiped in that moment.
When he rolled onto his side, he took the boy with him, intent on helping him finish. But Christopher was soft, his cock sticky with his own release. “Did you come untouched?”
Christopher’s whole body flushed. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
Sam chuckled, kissing the top of the boy’s head. “Don’t be sorry. I didn’t say you had to wait.”
“Can I look at you?” Christopher asked.
Even after all these months, he requested permission for the most random of things. Sometimes, it was to eat, sometimes to shower. The other night, he’d asked for permission to snuggle up against him. Sam thought it was reassuring to Christopher to hear Sam say yes. So, he said it as often as possible. “Yes, pet.”
He rolled in his arms, then lifted a palm to his cheek. Christopher’s touch soothed something jagged within him. “What are you doing?” he asked when Christopher just continued to stare.
“Trying to memorize every detail of your face. Your true face,” he said with enough sincerity to blow a hole through Sam’s resolve.
“Don’t lose this when I’m gone,” Sam said. “Don’t lose this sweetness. Don’t grow bitter and cold. The world needs people like you.”
The sudden desolation in Christopher’s eyes made Sam’s insides feel cold. “Let’s not talk about it,” Christopher said, his gaze drifting away to look at something over Sam’s shoulder. “It hurts too much. Like I swallowed an iceberg or something.”
“We have to talk about it sometime, pet. I have to negotiate with my brothers today. Then, the clock officially starts ticking down on my demise.”
Christopher was silent for a long while before asking, “Does it scare you? The thought of just disappearing?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked and it likely wouldn’t be the last. There was something desperate in his words. Like if he could just convince one of them that what would happen to Sam was a good thing, this would all have been worth it.
“Nothing scares me, pet,” Sam lied.
Sam was afraid. Not of the abyss. Not of nothingness or a never-ending sea of peaceful night. Sam was afraid of leaving Christopher alone in a world too harsh and unforgiving for him. He was afraid Christopher would resort to walling up his heart in an attempt to protect it. He was afraid he wouldn’t live long enough to do any of that. He wasn’t sure which was the worse fate.
“Nothing scares you?”
Sam traced Christopher’s cheekbones, then his jaw. “We don’t have the same human emotions as you, pet. I feed off fear, chaos, strife…pain. I was a soldier in my father’s army. He didn’t give us the same emotions he gave humans. We were simply one of many failed prototypes.”
“I wish you could love me,” Christopher said, wistfully.
Something twisted deep in Sam’s core. “I wish I could, too, pet. But the best I can offer is my protection and my…devotion. I will make sure you are safe. Protected. I swear it.”
Christopher’s face fell, once more looking sad. “I know. I know you will.”
Sam knew he’d said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. Christopher burrowed closer. “Can we just stay like this for a little while?”
