Demon’s Kiss


Rain echoed off the steel roof above David’s head. He used the steady pitter-patter to set the tempo of his morning routine. Sweat glistened all over his bare chest, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he pushed off the ground and dropped back down again in a controlled rhythm. His chest ached  but he pushed himself further and further until the sun began to peak over the horizon. That was how every morning started.

The rain continued that day, creating puddles along the rough sidewalks and tiny streams leading down the steps of the metro station beneath his fantastically overpriced condo. He enjoyed the luxury and status of it.

“Morning, Mr. Kendall,” the security guard said as David entered the building to his office. Top floor, very prestigious sales firm. He felt a flutter of butterflies beneath the tight muscles of his stomach; today was a big day.

“Morning, Keith.”

Much like his condo, everything about Dirkson & Chase was about status. The current partners no longer bore the names of the original founders but that didn’t matter, what mattered was the reputation that Dirkson & Chase carried within the sales world. They were gods among giants. David felt that power as he walked through the steel and white decor to his corner office, stopping to give an unsolicited caress to his secretary. He had no interest in her at all, but the tease kept her compliant to his every desire.

The morning passed quickly, leading up to the moment of truth.

“David,” Donovan Brant said, standing as David entered the senior partner’s office. “Come in, son, make yourself comfortable. Brandy?”

“Please,” David responded, keeping his smooth voice as even as he could manage. There was a man sitting in the leather chair beside him, someone familiar in a way David did not immediately place.

“David, I’d like to introduce you to my son, Adam,” Donovan continued as he poured a brandy from a crystal decanter. “Adam, this is my junior partner, David Kendall.”

Of course. How could he have missed it. The other man was the spitting image of his father, thirty years younger. He was quite handsome, actually with a firm handshake and the smell of musky cologne that set a shiver between David’s shoulder blades. David sipped the brandy, listened to a pre-planned spiel that had him frowning towards the end with clear confusion.

“I’d like for you to show Adam the ropes,” Donovan concluded. “He’s going to need to know all of what you do when he takes over for me in the fall.”

There it was, the blow that threw David’s world into a tailspin. Adam would inherit the company?? How could that be possible? David had worked tooth and nail for his position, all but sucking Donovan’s cock to get where he was and that’s not to say that he wouldn’t have done that too. For what? To stay junior partner to daddy’s little bumpkin who could barely finish college without daddy’s interference?

“Sir, forgive me for saying so, but, I thought we’d discussed my eventual rise to senior partner just last month,” David queried. Donovan nodded, steepling his hands on his desk.

“We did,” Donovan agreed. “We absolutely did and I meant what I said. There’s no other person I know that will be able to handle this company once Adam is done with it.”

Anything else that was said was lost to David’s ears. He felt numb with rage. His fists balled of their own accord, trimmed fingernails digging into his palms until the meeting was over. He sat for an hour in his office, stewing like a boiling kettle before heading out to meet with a client. It was an easy sell to an idiot that hardly knew what he was doing so paid double the cost for the small bit of business that was being sold. The commission off of the sale alone would pay for David’s condo for three months – not that that made him happy anymore. He felt the anger rise again but swallowed it down until he reached his favorite bar.

It was classy, not like the trash pubs he once frequented in his earlier years. He bought only the finest bourbon, brooding in a corner table with a glare permanently affixed to his handsome face. Others glanced his way, others that would have offered much-wanted company were he in a better mood. Instead, they threw annoyed glances his way when he practically growled at them to move on with their pathetic little lives. All but one.

“Evening not going your way?”

The voice that spoke was a cascade of deep silk. The smirk that went with it was just as intoxicating. David wanted to glare, but found himself arching a thin, well-groomed brow instead. The man was tall, olive-skinned, with perfectly trimmed dark chestnut hair. To be perfectly honest, he made David feel suddenly unworthy with his long hair and five-o’clock shadow. Even the Armani suit that David wore didn’t help make him feel worthy of this man’s attention.

“It’s been a long day,” David answered finally. The man merely nodded, waving two fingers at the bartender as he slid into the booth beside David without invitation.

“Day’s like that are rough,” he said. He smelled of cigar smoke and fall spices. Another bourbon arrived for each of them before he spoke again. “What can I do to make it worthwhile?”

David snorted in spite of himself. The man was certainly bold. David noted others in the bar whisper, watching them. They’d taken notice of the tall man too – men and women alike. It was his eyes – so dark they appeared black. They were both mesmerizing and terrifying. David found himself staring at them before shaking his head and grinning ruefully.

“A name might be a good start,” David teased, accepting the new glass of bourbon. Perfectly white teeth appeared behind the man’s smile.

“What name would you like?”

David tilted his head curiously, drinking more of the bourbon. He felt its warmth wash over him, relaxing his muscles more and more with each sip. He’d had three other glasses so far and none of them had had that effect on him so far. He’d been too angry to allow it. It was a euphoric feeling that left him feeling light-headed by the end of it.

“Well?” the man persisted, this time whispering into David’s ear so that his breath made him shiver. “What name shall you call me by?”

David closed his eyes, feeling a gentle caress at his wrist that twisted his stomach into swirls of burning need. He frowned briefly with a flash of something dark and wholly evil, shuddering at the ugliness of it. It almost made him pull away but the caress was too much.

“Asmodeus,” he whispered. The other man grinned.

“Asher works just as well.”

Long, slender fingers slid down David’s neck as he spoke the name that felt so wrong yet the one he knew was so right. Warm lips claimed his and suddenly David did not care what name the other man had. He needed to taste this man, to be with him, be part of him. The bar became a dark bedroom. David’s mouth could not get enough of Asmodeus, of his taste, of the feel of his tongue reaching down his own throat. Clothing was shed piece by painful piece. David let his hands run over Asher’s chest, feeling a knot of scars on the otherwise perfectly sculpted muscle. He bent to let his tongue trace the scar, his head swimming with growing need and a burning desire to be…harmed; punished; beaten. He needed it for what he was about to do.

“Tell me what you want,” Asher moaned. “Give yourself to me and I will grant it to you; anything you want.”

David’s heart slammed into his chest. He grabbed hold of Asher’s belt and worked it free, dropping it to the floor with a thud. Asher had already done the same to his own belt, hand buried deep inside of his pants. The sensation of each gentle stroke brought David up to his toes, unable to think straight. He thought about Donovan, the bastard that stole away his future and the prick of a son he was giving it to. He thought about all he had worked for, about his secretary and the sultry desire she had on her face every time she looked at him.

“Give yourself to me,” Asmodeus repeated. He kissed David’s neck as they kicked their way out of their pants and fell back onto a bed covered in silk. David was aware of candles dimly lit somewhere in the room but not of lighting them. He didn’t care. Asher kissed his neck, over shoulder blades and down to each nipple, flicking his tongue over them until they stood as erect as his cock. He continued along that path, traveling south until David could feel his breath over his penis, fat and hard, ready for pleasure. “Do you concede?”

“Yes!” David cried. “God, yes! Please!”

Warmth enveloped him, Asher practically swallowing him whole. There was a slight scrape of teeth as he came back up and an involuntary shiver when the cold air hit him again. He wanted more but could not ask for his mouth was claimed roughly this time, his wrists pinned above him by an inhuman strength. This was it, this was what he wanted. He kept seeing Donovan and his son, feeding that thought with his anger while his body found only pleasure. Asher held him down with one hand and spread his legs wide like a whore with the other, teasing the tight hole that craved so much attention. David moaned loudly.

“Please,” he whimpered. “I need this. Please.”

He felt pathetic. Some child getting it on for the first time or a crack addict begging for his next fix. When it was given to him, he cried out in pain. There was very little used in the way of lubricant. Tears rolled down his face as he cried out over and over again, now begging for it to stop as Asher entered him over and over. The other man’s chest rubbed along David’s, his lips licking and nibbling his neck.

“This is what you wanted,” Asher growled, thrusting deep inside of David over and over. David wanted to argue but he knew it would be a lie. He’d wanted this, to be hurt, to be punished. Why? The reason wouldn’t surface. He groaned loudly between sobs until he felt his body giving in to what Asher did. His muscles melted all at once, the tension draining away like water drains from a tub. Instead of begging for an end, his hips thrust to meet Asher’s. Eventually, his wrists were freed and the positions shifted. He sat on top of the other man, head thrown back in ecstasy as his own cock rubbed against Asher’s belly, increasing the pleasure ten-fold.

The other man began to groan, face twisting up with rising pleasure. David knew what was coming. He felt it in himself too though he knew his partner would not last until he did.

“Fill me,” David practically prayed. “I need this. Fill me. I’m yours, I swear.”

It didn’t take long for the other man to comply, digging surprisingly sharp nails into David’s back, even biting down on his neck as he ejaculated into David’s sore ass. He felt the heat of it shoot up inside of him, stinging the parts that had been torn open and leaking out even with Asher still inside of him. Asher fell backwards onto the bed, his head hanging off the edge of it while David started to jack himself off. He needed to feel his own release or he would explode. His sphincter opened and closed around Asher’s cock, making the other man twitch as he continued to tug on his own member.

“Tell me what you want, David,” Asher breathed out, strong hands massaging David’s rear.

“Dirkson & Chase,” he finally admitted before screaming in glorious pleasure. The orgasm was exquisite, like none he’d ever felt before. His entire mind exploded with color and sensation, fear and lust, hate and joy. He rolled off of Asmodeus panting like a dog, leaking and sweating. The other man gave him only a brief moment to breath then claimed his mouth again, gently this time.

“Consider it yours,” he whispered, kissing his way down David’s stomach again to clean off his cock with his tongue.

David couldn’t remember how many more times he hollered or begged, but the alarm beside his bed went off with terrifying strength that startled David right out of the deepest sleep he’d ever experienced in all his life. He looked around in confusion, the rain still rolling over the city from the day before. He could smell it in the air and wondered if he’d left a window open. The soft cotton of his sheets tickled his bare skin, drawing out an erection that made him remember the night before with violent clarity. He gripped his head and nearly cried as he sat upright and looked around his bedroom. Nothing was out of place, everything in coordinating hues of gray and blue against a dark oak floor. His clothes were in a neat pile beside the chair where they normally were as if he’d simply come home from a night on the town.

“What the hell…”

He sat there for a moment, wondering if it had all been a dream until looking at his wrists. The pale skin was bruised where it had been gripped. His bare chest had scratch  marks that he felt on his back as well.

“Oh God…”

His stomach roiled. His feet barely managed to carry him  to the toilet before he retched loudly. When he went to rinse his mouth, the reflection that stared back at him had sunken, hollow eyes, bloodshot from too much booze and God knew what else.

“David, what did you do?” he asked himself. He needed a shower, feeling dirty and ill but it didn’t help. It was as if a slick of oil remained all over his skin. He stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel to the sound of his cell phone ringing and buzzing on his side table.


“David, thank God!” It was Sheryl, his secretary. She was hysterical, sobbing and blubbering until David could only piece together part of what she was saying. There’d been an accident; he needed to turn on the news. A semi had lost control on the highway and smashed head-on into a town car that had Donovan Brant and son inside of it. No one survived. Sheryl was certain David had gone with them; he was supposed to, after his last meeting with the idiot client. But he hadn’t, he’d gone to the bar instead.

“No…” he said into the phone. Sheryl was asking him questions; where was he; what had happened; what were they going to do? “I… I wasn’t feeling well last night.”

The lie felt so natural. She wished him well, told him the lawyers would be in in a few days to set things in order; they needed him there. He nodded without hearing her and hung up the phone as he stared at the TV. The phone dropped from his hand as he watched the broadcast, policemen keeping the media at bay behind yellow caution tapes that fluttered in an eerie breeze. The vehicles could be seen behind them, mangled twisted pieces of metal stained in crimson.

“God, what have I done?” David breathed out.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Asmodeus said with a smile and a shrug. “Ask and ye shall receive.”

“That isn’t what I wanted!” David hollered, twisting around sharply at the sound of the other man’s voice. “I never- God, they’re dead!”

“You don’t miss anything do you?” Asher smiled. “You never specified how Dirkson & Chase became yours. And considering all that pent up rage you had in you…well.”

He simply shrugged after that. He wore an impeccable white suit that seemed to contrast to the dark of his skin and red-rimmed eyes. Red? His steps were slow and measured as he moved towards David. David took a step back, swallowing a sudden terror that rose up into his throat.

“What are you?” David hazarded.

“Your new boss,” Asher muttered softly into David’s ear when he’d come close enough. “Always be careful what you wish for, David. You never know who might be listening. You look stunning in that towel, by the way.”

David’s face colored. He licked lips that had gone dry. What had he done? For what? Status? Money?

“All of the above,” Asher whispered, hearing David’s thoughts. Sweat ran down David’s temples. Fear gripped him so that when Asher caressed his neck with a delicately clawed hand all he could do was flinch and shut his eyes tightly. “Imagine what you could do, David. The power and wealth I can offer you is immeasurable. You’re already on the right path.”

Firm hands rubbed David’s bare shoulders and arms, massaging tense muscles. Despite not wanting to give in, David felt himself loosening at the man’s touch. No, not a man. Something more sinister than a man. Asmodeus. He knew the name, knew it had a familiarity to him. Eighteen years of Catholic upbringing suddenly slammed back into his mind with hurricane force – Asmodeus was one of the named princes of Hell; a demon.

His breath came in more shallow intakes as the demon kissed his neck and shoulders, rubbed his chest and abdomen. David kept his eyes closed and swallowed hard again. He wanted so much out of life, things that would be very difficult to achieve. What was he willing to pay? What had he already paid? The lives of two innocent people had already been taken to ensure his rise within Dirkson & Chase. There couldn’t be anything much worse than murder.


While David considered his options, Asher moved in for the proverbial kill. He kissed and licked his way around David’s neck and across his shoulder blades. His lithe fingers easily dropped the towel to the floor so that David was bare to him, open for the taking. And take, he did. Without hesitation, Asher dropped to his knees, taking all of David into his mouth. Hearing the other man groan gave the demon chills of exquisite bliss. He sucked hard and slow until David was at full mast. This was about sealing the deal, making David turn to putty in his clawed hands. He worked the shaft gently, stroking as he sucked, flicking his tongue over the head before going back down to deep throat his large cock. David’s hands went to Asher’s head instinctively, guiding back and forth. He knew what the other man was feeling – an unnatural euphoria that brought his deepest desires to the surface. That was how Asmodeus worked, how he got the edge over the other princes of hell who all worked off of fear or pain. That would never gain anything. Humans clammed up when afraid and blubbered when in pain. When in the throes of pleasure, however, they offered anything he asked of them just to keep that pleasure going. It became a glorious addiction.

He could taste the pre-cum in his mouth, David holding on to the bar behind him just to remain upright. Asher sucked harder and faster with every little stroke and pass. It did not take long before David fed him a full load of semen, praising God for the feelings of bliss. It was not God he should be praising but Asher was not one to take offense. He swallowed down every last drop of the sticky fluid as if it were a fine wine, even dabbing at the corners of his mouth as David fell to the ground. That was when Asher crawled over the man and kissed him passionately. Every thought and desire David had rushed into his mind.

“Do you concede, lover?” Asmodeus asked, caressing David’s face gently. David nodded, spent already and high on the demon’s personal drug.

“Yes,” he breathed out. “I want it all.”

“Good,” Asmodeus whispered, kissing him again to seal the deal.

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