Page 65 of Fear No Hell

Calliope

The front door closes behind us with a quiet snick. Blindly, Sam reaches for the lock, his hand steady as he turns the bolt into place. They’re mechanical motions, unconscious actions from having lived in the house for a long enough time.

After the deadbolt finishes its rotation, our movements take on a different tone. They're hungry. Primal. Unstoppable.

“Lila,” Sam groans as I rake my claws through his shirt.

It falls apart in my hands like tissue paper, exposing his muscular chest as I gather the fabric into my fists, desperate to get it as far away from the beautiful skin it was covering as possible.

A needy sound rips from him when I toss the remains of his shirt to the ground.

Gods, the sounds he gives me. So pitiful they make me want to give him anything he’s willing to beg for, no matter that my sweet pet would never ask me for anything I wasn’t willing to give him.

After a quick bite on his jaw, I lower my legs from his waist and drop to the floor. His full bottom lip juts out in an unexpected pout when I step away from him; the petulant expression rips a laugh from me before I ask, “Do you honestly think I’m going to stop, pet?”

He jerks his head from side to side. Despite the movement, his beautiful obsidian eyes—which haven’t cleared to their normal warm hazel since before we left his mother’s house—never leave my face.

“That’s not an answer, pet. I’ll ask again, and you better give me a response this time.” I press my finger to his chest, hard enough that he takes a step back towards the couch. “Do you honestly think I’m going to stop?”

“Never.”

“Good boy.” I stroke a hand down his cheek, heart slamming against my ribs as he presses into my palm with a sweet, little whimper. “You’re mine forever. Mine to love. To cherish.” I pause and, with a smirk, shove him to the couch. “To fuck.”

The whimper turns into a moan when I straddle his hips, hovering far enough above him that he can’t rub himself against me easily but close enough that he can still feel my heat. Tormenting him until I’m able to suck him down the way I want.

He kicks his head back as I lick down his chest, bite at his peaked nipples.

When one of my fangs catches on the taut skin, a broken cry tears from him as his flesh splits so slowly that it feels like we’re moving too quickly for the rest of the world, and it has to catch up with us.

What feels like hours later, a drop of dark blood wells up, its color identical to the shadowy veins still lining his body.

I stare down, more confused than alarmed. Human blood is red. I’ve seen enough of it spilt in my long life to know that. Every time I’ve dreamed of Sam’s blood, it’s red. But sure as I’m straddling him, it’s black now.

Sam inhales sharply, and the droplet of blood trembles with the movement before it spills across his nipple, sliding down his chest. A trail of darkness against his pale skin.

Just like that, the world is moving again, and I’m dropping down into his lap and diving for the streak of blood lining his chest, lapping it up like it’s my last meal. “You taste so sweet, pet,” I tell him between licks. “So fucking good.”

And my precious Sam whimpers at me again, like the pet I call him, the sound as decadent as his blood tastes.

“What do you need?” I rasp at him as I thumb open the button of his jeans and unzip his pants. “Do you want something, pet?”

“Let me make you feel good,” he begs. “Please, sweetness, I need to make you feel good.”

I know what he’s asking for: he wants to go down on me.

It’s one of his favorite things to do, tonguing me until I scream his name and come all over his face.

Normally, I would let him and enjoy it; today, I know I won’t feel good until I have the solid weight of his cock on my tongue and the taste of his cum in my mouth.

At this point, it’s no longer a want, it’s a need, something that burns through my blood and demands the sweet taste of my pet.

No one else can satisfy this need. I don’t want anyone else. Just him. Only my Sam can satisfy this hunger.

I must have been quiet for too long because Sam is pleading, intoxicating, unintelligible noises that tell a story more than any words he could use.

Without saying anything, I slide down his legs, pulling his jeans down as I go.

Once they’re off, I toss them into the corner of the room without taking my eyes off his lean form.

I’ve seen him naked hundreds of times by this point.

No matter how often I see him like this, I don’t think I’ll ever get over seeing his beautiful body.

He’s lean, lithe rather than muscular, toned rather than bulky. With him naked, I can see that the shadowy veins on his chest, neck, and arms go all the way down, circling down his legs and… My mouth goes dry as the Sahara when I see the ebony lines wrapping the full length of his hard cock.

I need to drink him down.

I need it more than I’ve ever needed anything.

“What a sweet pet,” I coo, dragging my claws lightly down his sides until they brace on either side of his hips. I shift my weight forward until my mouth is centered over his cock, my breaths fanning over the head.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he stammers out even as he pumps his hips shallowly, the pearl of pre-cum on his tip smearing across my lips.

“If you don’t know what I’m about to do, then I must not be making myself clear.” I lick my tongue out across my lower lip, collecting the hint of a taste he gave me. I’m close enough to him that I can feel the heat of him along the sensitive flesh of my tongue.

“Lila, sweetness, you don’t have to—” He breaks off with a shout as I finally—fucking finally—lick along the vein of his shaft. “Fuck!”

My cry of satisfaction at the perfection of his taste tears through the room, and I drop my mouth over him, taking him deep.

I used to love giving head, but Arthur ruined that, along with so many other things.

It seems like karmic justice that the man he raised is the one who makes me want it again.

“Fuck, sweetness, god, your mouth,” Sam gasps overhead as his hips buck uncontrollably, inadvertently driving his length further until the very tip slides down the back of my throat.

I swallow around it, thankful for my nonexistent gag reflex, my body clenching in want as he pulses in my mouth.

“I don’t think I’m-oh fuck, I’m not gonna last long—”

I lift my mouth from him with a satisfying lap of the vein running the length of his shaft. “Then don’t hold back, pet,” I purr.

“Are you—”

“Sam. I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life.

” I force all of the sincerity I can into what I’m telling him, so he’ll know I’m doing this for me.

Not because I feel pressured. Because I want it.

Obsidian eyes on my face, he nods, the earnestness of the gesture forcing a smile to my face.

“Now that we’ve got that taken care of… Be a good boy and give me your cum. ”

And then I dive back onto him, taking him down again, sucking him deep the way I need. Hits of salt hit my tongue as he gives me more of his delicious pre-cum.

“Jesus goddamn Christ, sweetness, I’m not—holy shit, baby, fucking god, that feels so good—I don’t think—”

I give a hard suck of his thick head, his hands dropping to my hair as he sobs out another profanity.

That’s right, pet, give me what I want.

As if he heard my order, he starts pumping his hips shallowly, too lost in feeling to stop and check in, not when I’ve told him so clearly with my words and body what I want from him.

With each rock of his cock into my mouth and down my throat, he pulses against my tongue while pure, unfiltered desperation pours from his lips to fill my ears.

His shaft fills, jerking hard against my tongue as he whines—actually whines, the sound such a pure reflection of his need it almost has me coming myself—and digs his fingers into my hair.

Drags my head down until he’s deep in my throat, my nose nestled against his groin, and then lifts me back up before pressing me down again, fucking my mouth earnestly.

It’s the first time he’s ever pressed me, taken control of any part of my body like this, and I wonder idly for a second whether panic is going to come.

For a second, the fear rises, but it’s Sam—his voice, his scent, the gentleness of his touch even when he’s lost in lust—that chases the sticky residue of the rising trauma away.

As he works me up and down his length, his nonsensical words become clear.

“Oh god, fuck, sweetness, I’m gonna come, I can’t-fuck, I can’t stop it, baby, your mouth feels so good. Please, oh, god, I need you to—”

With a powerful suck, I seal my lips against his body, his head buried in the back of my throat.

“Fuck, oh god, yes, sweetness,” he sobs, and, with one last thrust, he explodes with a bellow of my name, his cum pouring down my throat like wine except sweeter. Richer. Spicier. Better.

Sam’s still chanting my name, still coming down my throat, when a burning sensation forms right between my breasts, spreading through me with each beat of my heart until it centers at my core.

There’s a flash of scarlet light around us before the burn turns into pleasure, something dark and deep that I can’t control, that spreads through me like lava, and I’m screaming around the head of his cock as I come from the taste of his seed alone.

I think I lose consciousness because when I come to, Sam is clutching me tightly, arms hugging me to his chest. His hand passes over my hair and down my back, soft touches that have my muscles relaxing as I melt into his chest.

“Holy shit, Lila,” he whispers.

I laugh, a wobbly, thready thing, as I drape my arm over his chest. “Did I pass out?”

My sweet doctor’s eyes go intense, searching mine until whatever he sees there reassures him. “You were still conscious, just very, very out of it. If it makes you feel any better, I was too.”

“That was… incredible,” I murmur. “I’ve never come that hard before.”

“And you’re okay?” he whispers the question urgently. “I wasn’t too rough or anything?”

“My love, you were perfect.” I press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the only place I can reach on his face without moving.

A sweet smile splits his face, his eyes softening as they slowly shift back to normal, his hazel irises emerging from the blackness. “How about we stumble our way to bed? Because otherwise I’m gonna fall asleep on the couch.”

I grumble as I force myself away from his naked body. We walk down the hallway to our bedroom, some part of us touching with every step, and make our way into the bathroom.

As I clean myself off, he sinks onto the stool we have in the bathroom and pulls off his prosthesis, liner, and sock. In what has quickly become part of our nighttime routine, he cleans off his leg as I rinse out his liner.

“I’m going to crawl into bed,” I tell him as I toss the day’s sock into the hamper along with my own clothes.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls after me.

A few minutes later, the bed sinks as Sam drops onto the other side and settles his prosthesis next to the bed before slipping off his iWalk crutch and turning off the lamp on his side of the bed.

Once he lies down, I roll into him, nuzzling into his chest and breathing in deeply. The scent of Sam—of home—fills my nose.

“I love you, Lila,” he drawls sleepily into my hair.

“I love you too,” I whisper back, clutching him even more tightly, so grateful he found me all those months ago that it hurts. As I doze off, the burning sensation in my chest flares and pulses.

A burst of scarlet light fills the room, gone so quickly I’m not actually sure it’s real. I blink blearily at where I saw the explosion of color.

“Sam? Did you see that?” I poke at his side, snickering when he grumbles at me. “Sam!”

“Hmm.” He forces his eyelids open, concern creasing lines of worry in his forehead. “You okay?”

“Did you see that light?”

“Wha’ light?”

“You didn’t see any light?” I could have sworn I saw something.

“Besides the light when you came earlier? Uh-uh,” he hums as his eyelids droop. “Sorry, sweetness.”

“It’s okay, my love.” I press a kiss to his lips as he loses the fight to sleep. “Go back to sleep.”

A soft snore is my only response.

When I eventually fall asleep, the burning in my blood is still there.

And when I wake up too early, the sun still below the horizon, there’s fire in my veins, which somehow feels like ice and heat together, mixed with something unearthly but familiar.

It flares through my body, demanding sex.

Vengeance. Blood. Not necessarily in that order.

With Sam asleep next to me, his snuffles too cute to interrupt, sex is out. So I listen to the demands of the fire in my veins for blood and vengeance and make my way to the basement.