Page 8 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires (Diabolic Romance #3)

Bez

“Son of a motherfucking bitch!” I roared as the spiked tentacles pierced my flesh and hooked in deep.

Before I could utter in protest, one tentacle wriggled down my back, slicing through the skin all the way to the core of my being and using the suckers to pull me out of my own skin.

Wally covered his face; shock and anguish and disgust merged his expression into this scrunched look of sour regret, which only further irritated me. The wry smile he had a moment ago had shattered into a thousand pieces of confusion.

I stood naked and bloody, staring down at the husk of my host body. Correction: former host body since some asinine demon decided to strip me of human form so I could feel Hell. Just as I required a body to indulge in the sensations of the mortal realm, possessing one here in Hell muted most of my senses, making my interactions with the world a mostly numb experience. Something I was quite comfortable with until Wally got my body shattered with his poorly phrased order.

Wally’s unique physiology as an altered devil made from this unique entwinement of human and Diabolic energies must’ve shielded him from the worst of Hell’s reception. That, and Lilith’s need to bind her realities perception in this space as she feared the hybrid devil’s unquantifiable limits. Even her dimmed dimension vibrated with a potency through my entire being.

Without a host, the dull sensations sprang to life. The touch of Hell’s air lapped at my skin. There was no emptiness in Hell. Devils were born of nothingness, so every piece of space held tangible sensation, meaning the molecules themselves crawled over my flesh with a constant prickling flutter. Now, the taste of essence from a billion demons rested on my tongue, reaching out for acknowledgment. The wails of Diabolics bound beneath the intricate layers of the dimension called out, echoing like a thrum of a pulse against my eardrums. Devils loved to shatter their creations, smear essence along the cracks of their dimension to keep the flow of energy cohesive for every other demon worthy. Equivocally, they were the working-class cogs driven to their deaths to fuel a beast of a machine they’d never reap the rewards of fueling.

“What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?” Wally muttered to himself; his hazel eyes drowned in the black void of his essence. Every cell in his body radiated rage. The emotion hacked into the air, palpable and menacing. Orias and the demon attendant knelt in awe, in obedience. They didn’t react with confusion to Wally’s mixed emotions, for a devil owed no explanation to their mood, merely an outlet to unleash it. Essence bubbled inside Wally, ready to burst, but I caught him soothing himself as he took in the sight of my completely uninjured demon form. “Are you—”

“I am fine.” I took a knee alongside Orias so I wouldn’t be revealed as the devil Walter’s vulnerability. Gods only know how Lilith would exploit my little obsessive boyfriend’s love for me. “Apologies for the outburst. I’d grown attached to that silly little host body.”

“I didn’t realize when I said—”

“Yes,” I interjected, with a very ‘shut the fuck up’ glare because we’d already established his talking would be the end of us if he didn’t obey my discretion. “I suppose this Orias could use some training when it comes to undressing guests from their host bodies.”

“Of course, my lord.” Orias’ tentacles wriggled and went to work retrieving the entrails of my former body. “The layers upon layers upon squishy layers that make up these carbon dwellings are so difficult to interact with. I will do more research on ways to repair this host body.”

He pushed the muck of mushy meat that my hollowed-out former body had transformed into around until it made a neat, goopy pile.

“Pass,” I snarled. “I don’t want that body.”

“Perhaps I can interest you in another.” Orias swung his tentacles and hooked two males by the throat, damaging the bodies he put on display for me. “These are similar to your former vessel.”

“No.” I waved a dismissive hand. Possession was such an intimate process, delicate and patient work. Plus, I doubted any of Lilith’s demons knew how to appreciate a body from one of the lesser worlds they were exclusively told not to venture into. They were sheltered by their own Hell and devil’s authority. It showed in their every action or lack thereof. “I just got that one all cozy. I’ll wait until I return home.”

“What if I repaired this one?” Orias began weaving his essence through the goop. “I’ll stitch it back to perfection.”

“No,” I said with conviction because politeness didn’t go far in Hell. “Provide me and Walter a mirror and the privacy befitting his station for this sacred event.”

“Certainly.” Orias’ eye, embodying the bulk of his being, stopped shaking when he noted the change in pressure from Wally’s essence.

He’d calmed down since my demeanor shifted. I’d have to be less impulsive to avoid the ire of not one but two devils. The wrong reaction on my part could offend Lilith or worry Walter. In either case, the results weren’t something I wanted to see unfold.

“Befitting my station?” Wally asked, his voice light and chipper. “That’s a total Roman empire nod. I see what you did there.”

“What I did was get us some breathing room from these fucking cuck demon lords.” I rolled my eyes. “This way, none will be foolish enough to eavesdrop as we spend a little time cleaning up and playing dress up.”

I gestured to my bloody naked body.

“You look hot.” Wally grimaced, fighting a smile, which only made him extremely kissable in this moment.

We stepped inside the constructed room where Orias had quickly scrambled to teleport the wardrobe he’d had on display onto a neat rack that didn’t seem to fit this ancient Roman theme, but I didn’t know shit about Rome. Other than the fact I’d wasted a few seasons screwing and slaughtering mortals, mages, and Mythics alike while in their city. But that was nearly a century ago, and from Wally’s long-winded explanations, ancient Rome was far older than that. A few thousand years based on his wet dream expression.

“This is the epitome of luxury during the rise of Rome.” Wally gestured to the swimming pool and pointed to the separate tubs, each big enough to hold us and a small group. “Hygiene hadn’t exactly become what it is today, but there was…”

Wally’s worries washed away as random facts for every element of this magically constructed bathhouse replica spilled from his mouth. This continued with every single thing we walked past between the door and the mirror, where I finally examined myself.

I stood hunched since I’d grown used to squeezing into most of my host bodies, finding the more compact ones easiest for composites overall. Still, straightening my posture drew Wally’s gaze. He looked up at me, taking in the difference in our height, awed by the nearly two-foot difference. Or perhaps it was my muscles that shocked him. I’d always maintained a muscular shape in his presence—even when decapitated and a meager pint-sized version of myself. But now, Wally tilted his head, like he was measuring with his eyes how his head compared to my large biceps. Then, his attention fell to my abdomen, studying the added definition created by splattered blood.

My light gray skin appeared even paler in the stark contrast of bloody remains dripping down my body. With a wave of my hand, I channeled telekinesis and pulled the droplets of blood off one by one, pooling them into a large blob. Wally watched with intrigue, studying my actions, noting the ombre effect on my hands extend and reach about halfway down my forearms. Controlling essence without a host body was more physically revealing, the notes of power. Black essence had even coated my feet and lower legs, creating a similar effect as with my arms. That helped keep me grounded in myself, reeling my senses inward toward my core so I could block out the bulk of Hell’s overwhelming sensations.

PLOP.

I dropped the bloody mess into the center of the large pool that filled the bulk of this bathhouse spa, savoring the loud splash and lovely scarlet stretch throughout the clear water. It held the most beautiful allure as the blood painted beneath the tiny rippling current my disturbance had caused.

“Seriously?” Wally huffed. “So much for going for a swim.”

“Please, makes me wanna take a dive even more now.” I smiled, staring at my watery reflection before turning back to the mirror and taking in my fully nude, natural body. A body created in Hell and formed through the will of my essence and the tutelage of my devil. I ran a clawed hand along my sharp jaw, my throat, and rested it on the center of my chest.

The biggest drawback to walking through Lilith’s Hell in my own skin was knowing how everyone would see every fault in my form. Every weakness I’d tried to improve over the centuries, every flaw I’d hidden beneath host bodies, every detail of my essence I despised. A complex created after eons of Beelzebub parading his shame, undercutting my successes, showing what his truly superior demons were capable of.

But while I hated my appearance, hated the inferiority my body possessed in comparison to some of the strongest Diabolics dwelling in Beelzebub’s Hell, it didn’t compare to Mora. She was stuck with a body that wasn’t hers, never fit her right, never reflected the demon she was. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have Mora at my side during this Devil’s Banquet. She was more than a king of Hell. She was a political genius, a savvy entrepreneur, and a cunning tactician.

Wally’s curious, quiet gaze called to me. Even looking away from him, I could feel his need to speak, yet just as I sensed his antsy energy, he sensed my desire to take in my form. Or perhaps he simply felt guilty for the bad order. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I placed my hands on my hips and wiggled them to shake my dick and get a laugh out of Wally. “Just wondering what I’m gonna wear or if I should rock out with my cock out.”

“May I make a suggestion on a personal favorite?” Wally held up a pair of skimpy clothed underwear that all the demon attendants awaiting us outside wore.

I didn’t care for Wally’s choice, but I could see his eagerness in me flaunting my body. He didn’t see the blemishes across my gray skin, the need for improvement in my muscles, the faults in my features, or anything other than perfection. To Wally, I embodied beauty, confidence oozing from my pores, so I sauntered over to the rack of clothes, swaying my hips and relishing Wally’s eyes locked onto my diabolically sexy bubble butt.

I wouldn’t wear the togas or tunics. But I didn’t care for the full-scaled armor either. Sifting through the selection, I found a piece I enjoyed here and there. I grabbed a smaller set of gauntlets for my wrists without detracting from the ombre effect of my essence coating my arms. I snapped a crown of leaves into pieces and adorned the golden shimmers between the feathers of my wings. Then to hold the outfit together, I slipped on a dark brown leather skirt divided into several slit straps.

“A gladiator’s war skirt.” Wally nodded approvingly, biting his lower lip and likely holding back some random factoid about the clothing. “It’s very becoming.”

“As in you’ll be coming while I’m in it?” I winked.

He snickered. “Exactly.”

“And what’re you planning on wearing?” I batted my lashes. “And don’t think you can escape the themed wardrobe because of your devilish station.”

“Actually, I always wanted to do a Greek or Roman-inspired costume, so this is kind of like a dream.” Wally rifled through a few of the clothes on display. “Aside from the fact that one misstep in said dream will turn the entirety of this into an absolute nightmare which would potentially lead to my death, your death, the death of everyone in the Diabolic Oasis, the death of everyone in the world, and yeah—sort of taints a bit of the daydream factor.”

Wally grabbed a black tunic with a golden robe to tie around his waist, along with matching gold-laced sandals that tied to his knees and a crown of leaves to set atop his head.

“That said, I look pretty stylish.” He popped his hip, looking cute as fuck. And I do mean fuckable in the cutest way.

Using my tails, I pulled Wally closer. His cheeks burned red as his lips nearly pressed against mine from the swift shuffle. Then, I tore the front of his tunic open, exposing his muscular chest, and ripped the sides of the tunic’s skirt bottom to reveal his lovely thighs.

“Hey!” he whined.

“Now, you practically look perfect.” I kissed him, shoving my tongue in his mouth and massaging his before he could protest a hundred complaints about how I’d ruined his choice outfit. “The only thing that’ll make you look better is when I bend you over and hike your skirt up.”

He huffed and went to retrieve a new tunic. His brow furrowed, likely hating the color choices.

“Might as well keep on what you have.” I bumped my pelvis against his butt. “I’ll just end up ripping apart whatever you choose next until you’re all sexy for me again.”

“Not if I order you to behave,” Wally teased. “As the devil here, I am the one who makes the rules, right?”

“That so?” I spun him around, closing the distance between us so our crotches touched. Only the fabric of his short tunic and my frilly war skirt divided our skin. “What orders do you have, Lord Devil Walter Alden?”

“Um…” His face scrunched, flustered yet aroused.

“Should I get on my knees and worship at your altar?” I dropped down without awaiting his command.

I’d craved Wally’s authority for some time, and when better than in Hell, where it might all come to an end? And if it was coming to an end, I wanted to cum with him one final time.

“Wait,” he whispered. “What about the demons out there?”

“They’re not listening.” I ran my teeth along the golden belt tying his tunic and tugged at the knot. “They wouldn’t dare.”

Wally held his breath, watching me with excitement. Delicately, I traced my clawed nails up Wally’s legs, rubbing the hairs, and rested my hands under the fabric of his outfit. He’d have to assert himself if he sought more. My thumbs rested close to the inside of his thighs, near his growing erection.

“How may I serve you, Walter?”

He released a swift and heavy breath, exhaling all his nervousness, and then lifted his tunic to reveal his rock-hard cock. Without a word, I went to work. I held the tip in my mouth, resting the head on my tongue, rotating to massage the nerves. Wally sucked his teeth, immediately entranced by the sensation, but I’d just begun. I swallowed further, taking in the whole shaft to the base of his crotch.

Wally moaned, stifling the noise as he slapped a hand on the back of my head, hoping to hold me here longer, keep the feeling from fading. I swirled my head, keeping Wally’s cock in my throat. He wasn’t small or large, but even if he were, my gag reflex didn’t really exist. I could swallow a sword if I were craving it, so Wally’s seven inches didn’t exactly choke me.

Though when he started pumping his hips, I gulped and gurgled at the suddenness. It enticed him, and he slammed his dick faster and further in a frenzy. He grunted, which sent a shiver through my warming body. I quivered, drawn to his energy, surrendering my mouth to him to use how he pleased. He bucked and grunted louder the deeper he pushed his cock head into my tight throat muscles.

He slid his hand between my curled horns and played with my ruffled hair. Then with a tight grip of his hand wrapped between the locks, he yanked me back, pulling me off his cock. Not quite entirely, but back to the tip where I licked and teased the head until he ran his hand under my chin and pulled me forward with both hands. He slammed me back to the base of his dick and thrusted.

Each time he pumped his hips, the fervor inside him swelled. Usually, Wally was calmer when I sucked him off, merely enjoying the affection, the shift between my eager and aggressive nature in bed, yet now this primal beast grew from him. Each second that passed, Wally tested himself a little more, adding a touch more assertiveness as I continued pleasuring him.

He smacked the side of my face lightly and held his grip there. He massaged my hair before raking his fingers through and pulling my head back by the roots. He yanked my mouth away from his dick, teasing my lips with the head. With a playfulness, he rubbed the tip of his cock along my mouth and then stuffed it back in.

I choked, taking in the swift thrusts.

Oftentimes, I was the overzealous one, relishing in his whimpering satisfaction, but now he carried himself with this commanding need for dominance. Submission was never something I offered to a partner—satisfaction, yes—but I preferred to remain in charge. In control. Too much of my existence was met with service in Hell’s battles and so much more, but with Wally, serving obediently offered a high unlike any other. It washed away the world outside this room.

All that called was Wally and his cock.

I tilted my head, adjusting ever so to make it easier for Wally to face fuck me. He pounded into my throat, pulling his cock almost all the way out, leaving just the head in my mouth before stuffing every inch of his shaft back in down to the base.

I gripped his hips, steadying the erratic, brutal thrusts to create an almost rhythmic pounding.

He panted, taking faster strokes and edging himself right to the point of release before slowing down and rubbing his hand along my jaw.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so good.”

I stretched my mouth wider, taking him in entirely. Wally continued, using my throat to meet his needs and finally cumming.

His teeth chattered, and he groaned. I let him slowly hump my face to shoot out a few more jets of cum, savoring the taste that filled my mouth.

He pulled out, wiping the last drops on my lips, rubbing cum and spit with the head of his dick over my face, then he shoved the tip in once more to suck until he’d fully finished. Until his body stopped craving satisfaction. Until he stopped vibrating from the orgasm. Until he’d felt the full extent of his release. I played with Wally’s cock, taking it back into my mouth as it went soft. I continued sucking until he told me to stop. I would please him until he ordered something new.