Uneasy Lies the Head - CAOS - Dark Lord/OC - Chapter 13[Finale]
Chapters - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13
A/N - Thank you for reading! This chapter is clocking in at almost 10000 words alone. So enjoy! If you have any suggestions for another fic or shorts PM me!
Chapter 13 - Finale - Amaryllis and Heliotrope
Warning of Smut and Graphic Violence
Had it really only been less than 24 hours that Lucifer had been able to walk the Earth in his angelic form? That Samara had slaughtered her Mandrake? Samara’s mind whirled at all the sudden changes that had happened in the past few hours. How could a day feel like a lifetime had passed?
She hadn’t been able to continue to admire the throne room as one of Lucifer’s servants swept her away. She was led to a door where she was told to freshen up. Apparently the coronation would need to take place again.
Lucifer had explained quickly that since the aristocracy of his world were not present, the crowning was not valid. He’d gently removed the towering crown from her head, smirking at the pout she’d worn.
Samara cast a longing look at the luxurious bed she saw as soon as she entered the room. The enormous thing was taking up a large portion of the room, covered in smooth looking silks and plush pillows. All she wanted to do was curl up in those sheets and sleep. If the strong, secure arms of her King happened to join her, then all the better.
Heaving a deep sigh, Samara continued through the room to the opened bathroom. Taking a look in the mirror she suppressed a grimace. Her makeup looked great. Her hair on the other hand was a wreck. Her lips pursed as she ran her hands through her hair, smoothing down the flyaways. Her dress wasn’t wrinkled or crimped; she was pleased to note.
She was slow to walk back to the main room, her feet carrying her to the bed. She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, her hands splaying across the fabric on her thighs. Her eyes took in the room around her. She could tell that this was Lucifer’s room. If not by the sheer presence of his energy that filled the room, then the lingering of his intoxicating scent was what clued her off. Even just this little bit of him that she could sense helped ease her mind. Yet still her thoughts continued to spiral.
Perhaps she should have expected this outcome. She’d heard her family’s reactions to her newfound powers as well as the prophecy. She should’ve taken the clues. But it was her family; she never thought they could betray her as they did.
Samara felt a shiver of fear race down her spine. They had planned on binding her magick, erasing her memory! Who in their right mind would do something like that?! She was familiar with the rituals for binding someone’s magick. There was no guarantee that only certain parts of the witch’s magick would be blocked; more often than not that witch lost their powers completely. On top of all that, Samara could guess the potion that Hilda had planned on using. There were only a small handful of potions that tampered with memory loss. All held the same cautions as the power binding rituals; there was no guarantee what memories were being erased. She could have lost everything. Her family was willing to risk that.
A Shadow wrapping around her ankle caused Samara to surface. Taking stock of the room she realized that everything was now cloaked in darkness. A small smile curled the corner of her lip. She wasn’t surprised to see all of her Shadows darting around the room; with them riled up from not only recent events but also the fear she’d felt from her current thoughts. She reclined back onto the bed, her legs still dangling from the edge. Her eyes slid closed as she sent out a pulse of reassurance to her Shadows. Almost instantly she was consumed.
Her Shadows flew around her, their physical presence like a whisper dancing over skin. They smothered her with their assurance. She felt the ball that had been settled in her chest unravel and fade away.
Perhaps a more typical person would have been appalled at the messages her Shadows sent her. And maybe Samara had thought herself typical, but stepping back and checking herself now, she realized that she was wrong. What typical person would feel relief at the images her Shadows were showing her? Of Hilda and Zelda rushing at her menacingly, one holding a vial, the other holding a book of runes. Before they could touch her, her Shadows swirled up their feet, legs, torsos until they were engulfed in darkness. The Shadows made quick work of them but allowed her to hear their horrified screams and to smell the penny-copper of their blood. What typical person would find comfort in the vision of Sabrina, eyes glowing white and hovering in the air, ready to use her ramped up powers against her; only for the girl to find herself quickly pinned to the floor, Samara’s shadows swarming her like maggots in a festering wound? Like Hilda and Zelda before, Samara could hear her screams and pleas and scent rust and metal.
What typical person would be pleased by any of that? Not a normal person. And Samara knew she wasn’t typical. The thought cementing in her head as she felt herself melt into the bed at the comfort her Shadows were bringing her.
Lucifer might have gifted her with the Shadows when she was still a fetus, but over time they had become hers. Nothing short of losing her powers could separate them from one another. Even then, Samara thinks her Shadows would still be with her, she just wouldn’t be able to sense them as easily.
“Well, this looks cozy.” Lucifer’s tone was teasing. Samara peeked one eye open at him. Through the darkness surrounding her she could see him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
“I figured the sudden brightening of every room had something to do with you as most Shadows fled.” He walked towards the bed, her Shadows parting around him like hydrophobic sand in water. As he sat next to her, her Shadows dissipated, returning to the edges of the room. They trusted Lucifer to watch over her. Samara sent a pulse of gratitude their way, content filling her as she felt Lucifer do the same.
“The past few weeks have been filled with change and unease. They’re tense, upset.” Samara remained laying back as she spoke, her eyes flitting around the room as she watched her Shadows dance. Her gaze snapped up to Lucifer as he brushed a strand of hair back, his hand cradling the side of her head.
“I dare say that they are not the only ones upset. Much has happened to you so recently. A time I planned to have filled with joy and admiration has since been muddled with betrayal and sorrow. I hope you can one day forgive me, my flower.” His voice was soft, his eyes even softer. Samara would bet that few had ever witnessed the Dark Lord be so gentle; even fewer hear him ask for forgiveness. She reached a hand up, her thumb stroking his defined cheekbone, her finger trailing to trace his ear.
“There’s nothing to forgive. The only ones in charge of their actions are the people in question themselves. My hurt will pass in time. That still doesn’t negate from the content and happiness I feel that I’m here. With you.” Samara smiled as his eyes slipped closed as she continued to trace delicate patterns onto his skin.
“We must work on your overwhelming mercifulness, My Queen. But not towards me. Never towards me. I intend to take every bit of your mercy for myself. Let the rest fend for themselves.” He hummed, slowly leaning down towards her. His hand slipped down and below, cupping her neck. He gently raised her by his hold, bringing her up towards him. Just as she felt his breath tickle her lips, a knock rattled the door. Fire licked inside her at the displeased growl that rumbled his chest.
“Your Majesty? They’re ready for you.” A timid voice spoke from outside.
Samara grinned at the heavy sigh that escaped the man holding her. Darting up she pressed a quick peck to his lips, dancing up and away before he could catch her. His narrowed eyes caused a giggle to escape her. She took in his form as he stood, her eyes roving up and down. A snap from his fingers and she felt her hair and dress smooth out.
She was running a hand down the front of her dress, her eyes following it’s path, double checking that there were no wrinkles when she felt his hand grasp the back of her neck. He pulled her forward by his hold, forcing her head to tilt up. Her core clenched at the fire flickering in his gaze. Once again he leaned down, but this time it was to speak nearly against her lips.
“Soon, My Samara; you will not be able to escape my grasp so easily, nor will you want to.” Despite the heat flaring in his words, the kiss he pressed to her lips was soft and gentle. She began to press back, her body stepping towards him but his fingers tightened the grip he had, forcing her to stay still. Disappointment flooded through her as he pulled back.
“Come. We have a crown to place on your head.” He released her neck and extended his hand towards her. She released a soft huff before setting her hand in his.
Unlike before, the guests of this coronation were unmasqued. Samara took in every demon she could see, their odd features all prominent. Also unlike before, there were many many more people.
Samara stayed at Lucifer’s side as he led them through the throne room. The demons and other beings parted a path for them, bowing and curtsying as they passed. She could feel the thrum of anticipation and unholy glee in the air. Samara could only guess why the crowd was so pleased. Perhaps they had never expected their King to take a Queen. She wondered how they would take to her Ruling.
He was quick to lead them up the stairs to where the thrones sat. Their thrones. Near identical to the ones that had been at the Academy. The only difference being these two seemed larger, more menacing. Power seemed to radiate from them like a heady cloud. Maybe the thrones themselves weren’t radiating the power though. Perhaps it was just the lingering of Lucifer’s own powers saturating a place he spent much time in.
Samara hardly noticed as the crowd’s quiet murmurings silenced. She did, however, feel their eyes devour her as Lucifer helped seat her in the more curved throne. As he did earlier that night, his thumb swept across her knuckles as she sat down. She made sure to send a grateful smile his way before he parted from her. This time her crown was held by a mouthless demon. Curiosity quirked inside her. Why did this demon have no mouth? She’d noticed that most of the demons in positions of servitude were much like that one; mouths, eyes, noses, ears were all missing in different variations. She’d make sure someone explained it to her.
Her thoughts were paused as Lucifer stood before her again, the golden glinting crown secure in his hands. Her eyes slipped closed as the warm metal was placed on her head once again. Just like earlier that night, the feeling of right, mine, power echoed through her.
Unhesitantly Samara slid her hand into the one Lucifer had extended towards her, helping her rise once again. Still, the congregation beneath them remained silent. There was a heaviness to the air this time that wasn’t there before. At the front of the crowd below, stood three demons more lavishly dressed than the rest. She could only assume they were the Kings of Hell. Their presence was a necessity to her coronation Lucifer had explained. They would make sure her status was upheld and spread in Hell.
“My loathsome subjects, I gather you here today to celebrate the crowning of a new Ruler. I present to thee, Samara Spellman. Proud lady of Pandemonium, Maiden of Shadows, and Queen of Hell! Hail Samara!” Lucifer’s voice echoed through the silent hall. She could feel his power pulsing from him, a cloak-like feeling settling around her.
“Hail Samara! Hail Satan!” The congregation below crowed. While the glamoured crowd earlier in the night had chanted the same words, the group chanting now held jubilation and anticipation in their words. Samara felt any unease that had been settled on her shoulders evaporate. No doubt she’d still have a few hiccups from some demons and others testing her boundaries but it was nice to know that there were no immediate protests.
“And now, we shall dance to the Mephisto Waltz, as Queen and King.” The music that started up was similar to what had played during their dance earlier. It was heavier this time, darker, more resolute. Samara’s hand was held tightly in Lucifer’s as they quickly descended the stairs. The crowd parted for them once again, this time leaving the center of the room clear.
It was as easy as breathing, assuming the positions they’d held before. Her waist cradled in his grasp, her hand resting on his chest, his hand leading them through the steps. The air between them crackled, not just from the want that seemed to flare any time they were together, but from an intimacy. Samara could tell from Lucifer’s gaze that their dance was different this time. The steps and tune might all be the same but the magick and power surrounding them now was different. It continued to build with each step they took, blaze increasing with every spin she made.
“You can feel it too.” His voice was a whisper, nearly as soft as his gaze. Samara’s eyes couldn’t break away, nor did she want to. The fingers on his chest drummed gently as she hummed in assent. “This is how it should have gone. Our subjects in awe as our powers grow and meld. All watching as their Queen came to be.”
Now that he’d said it she could pinpoint what was going on. Before, she had been able to feel the difference but not exactly what it was. Now, she could tell. Lucifer’s power was vast, unending, all consuming. It was a seductive darkness that crooned and devoured. She’d been able to feel that from the moment she’d met him. But now, she could feel it swirling around her, not just in protection as it had done earlier. Now she could feel her own power surge up to meet him. Swirling and dipping and twisting and turning. Where one went the other followed. To take and taste and touch and have. It continued as their dance did. Until she could no longer tell where her power began and his ended. Until it all felt like one. Changed, the same, different and similar.
She felt drunk off the power that swirled around them. Her eyes raised from the delicate patch of skin exposed at the base of his throat that she hadn’t realized she’d been eyeing. Lucifer’s eyes were glazed over, no doubt from the same heady surge that was rushing through her.
No longer were either one of them consciously in charge of the steps they were taking. The dance was controlled by instinct and intuition.
They twirled faster and more grandiose as the music reached a crescendo. Her body pressed closed to his, swirling out under his arm to be quickly tucked back in. Only to come to an abrupt halt as the last, echoing note reverberated through the room.
Samara came back to herself. Her body dipped low to the floor, the ends of her curls brushing the marble. Her crown steady on her head. Her hand splayed on Lucifer’s neck, her other grasped tightly in his own. The small of her back held securely in his arm. His eyes sparkled in triumph and smug pleasure as he looked down at her. A smile broke through her lips. She was quick to crane her head up, his arm tightening and bringing her body the rest of the way to be flush against him, still dipped down.
Their lips clashed together, adrenaline coursing through her; their shared power smothering them. She bit his lips open, working her way inside. The taste of him, electricity and promise would haunt her to the end of her days. She’d never get enough. His hummed moan something she wanted to listen to for days on end.
It was easy to forget that they were surrounded by a crowd. It was too easy to just get lost in him. But Lucifer was a skilled man. And cruel she thought briefly as he pulled away from her.
His eyes were near black with desire; not only from the power exchange but their heated kiss as well. He was a stronger person than she as he stepped away, releasing her from his hold. He bowed, to which she curtsied. As soon as their social decorum was finished, her hand was once again ensnared by his.
Immediately as soon as her hand met his once again, the crowd around them roared in cheer. Samara shared a grin with her King. He began helping her back up towards their thrones as the music started back up. Now was the time for their guests to enjoy themselves. After all Hell was a place for indulgence.
A servant was quick to offer her a glass of red wine as she was seated in her throne. She accepted it as she tilted her head, watching Lucifer sit regally upon his own throne. Still their hands remained intertwined on the arm rests.
“Now My Queen, all is as it should be. You upon your throne. Our subjects celebrating down below. Us side by side together.” Lucifer’s silky words met her ears. She hummed softly as she sipped her wine.
“Perfect.” Even as she answered, her thoughts flashed images of her family and their betrayal. Her mood threatened to sour but was diverted as Lucifer squeezed the hand he held.
“Do not let thoughts of earlier spoil Our night, my flower.” While his words held some demand in them, she could tell he only meant for the best. She shot a small smile at him, squeezing his hand back.
“Like I said earlier, it will take some time but it will fade. Besides, I plan on sitting here with you and enjoying our evening.” Her words rung with promise. A promise to herself to try to not let what happened earlier rain down on her mood.
Feeling mounting anticipation and dark glee swirling within Lucifer, she shot him a questioning look. A grin was directed her way before he answered.
“Perhaps I have something that would lighten your thoughts once again.” His tone was suggestive. Samara chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Besides, what kind of King doesn’t gift His newly crowned Queen something the night of Her coronation?” He gestured one of the servants forward, whispering into his ear. The demon scurried off down the stairs.
“Lucifer, I don’t have any gift for you though.” Samara worried her lip between her teeth, her brow creasing. The Dark Lord released her hand, reaching up to release her lip from its prison. He ran a soothing thumb along the abused flesh.
“Trust me when I say my gift from you will be watching what’s to come.” He whispered, a smirk pulling at his lips. Samara’s eyes narrowed at him in question.
Her attention was pulled towards the crowd below them once again as they became hushed. She saw as they watched two figures at the doors. The servant Lucifer had sent away was now back, tugging along another beside him. The second person was cloaked in ragged, ripped, sweaty attire with a black sack covering their head.
The servant guided his guest to the center of the room, kicking their legs and forcing them to kneel. Samara turned to look at Lucifer, who was leaning forward in his seat. With a kiss to her knuckles he stood, a tug from his hand having her join his side. He guided them to stand at the railing, resting their still entwined hands on the warm marble. Their guests silenced at the new position their King and Queen held. Which made it all the easier for Lucifer’s words to echo in the room.
“Now for tonight’s entertainment! I present unto My Queen, a gift, for her coronation. May it help make this night even more memorable.” His voice boomed around them. With a nod of his head, the servant ripped the black sack off the unknown person’s head. Samara felt herself freeze.
“Did I not promise you, My Queen? Did I not say that he’d be dealt with? I can think of no sweeter revenge than for you to take him in hand now. To do with him as you please. And when his physical body tires, his soul can go wherever you direct. To keep him as a plaything for your frustrations forever more.”
Now she understood why he’d been feeling so giddy. She squeezed his hand gently before letting go. She trailed her finger along his back and she walked behind him, to descend the stairs. Her steps were slow and echoed with each click. She could feel the eyes of not only her King but their subjects as well as they tracked her every move. All too soon her journey was done, her feet carrying her to the trembling man knelt before her.
Faustus Blackwood stared up at her, terror and rage intermingling on his face. She could only imagine how he felt. Forced to kneel before a girl he’d once tried to molest. Kneeling before someone from a family he loathed. The knowledge alone, that she was now his Queen, must’ve been eating him up inside.
Her memories began overtaking her again. Not so much the images of what once happened, but rather the emotions. The all consuming fear and sorrow she’d felt when he’d tried to take her in his office. The rage and loss she’d experienced when she’d learned Zelda was to marry him. How he’d taken so much from her. Her sense of security, her community, her family, her home! But Samara was many things, and thoughtlessly cruel was not one of them. She’d extended mercy to almost everything she’d known at least once. Perhaps that’d be how she’d Rule. Merciful to an extent, then she could let the cruelty that’d been buried down deep out to play.
With those thoughts in her head, Samara stared Blackwood in the eyes as she slightly bent at the waist to bring her face level with him. Still she could see the fear and anger swirling within him.
“I hold no fond feelings for you. In fact, I couldn’t care less if Witch-hunters came along and burnt your body to a crisp. However, I’ve been told I’m a merciful Queen so far. So. I’ll give you an ultimatum. Bow down, kiss my feet, beg for your life like the pathetic useless worm that you are, recognize me as your Queen and you’ll walk out of this room alive and well. I’ll assure it. Or do nothing, and I can’t promise for your well-being.” Her words were firm. She could feel the surprise that rang through her King. No doubt he’d expected her to fly into a rage as soon as she’d seen Blackwood. But she’d never been like that. No, Zelda had taught her to be rational. So here she was, being rational. An ultimatum. Ultimately, Blackwood’s fate was in his own hands. Which he chose swiftly.
She heard him before she felt it. Hot saliva trailed down her cheek, her eyes closed from the startling action. She heard the crowd around them gasp and curse, getting worked up. White hot rage pulsed behind her from Lucifer. She sent a soothing pulse back, not wanting him to interfere.
“I’ll die before I bow before any Spellman; much less the mutt they took in.” Blackwood bit out. Samara hummed as she delicately wiped the spit off her face with her hand. Using the soiled hand, she ran it over his face, wiping off the wetness before grasping his chin. Her sharp nails dug into the hollows of his cheeks.
“A mutt I may be. But you will die with the knowledge that I, Samara Spellman, am your Queen. In a position of power you could only dream to be in. And now, for eternity, you will suffer under my direction, my instruction and my will. So mote it be.” She snarled out, her nails causing drops of blood to appear on the skin they pierced before releasing him and stepping back.
Pleasure curled within her at the startled gasps and shouts she heard. Her Shadows had been creeping in closer and closer as she’d stood before Blackwood. Now, they gathered at the bottom of her dress, blurring it with darkness. Some climbed up her back, flaring out behind her in a mockery of wings.
She took satisfaction as all colour drained from Blackwood’s face, his trembling increasing.
She could feel the eagerness that swelled and swirled within her Shadows. It’d been so long since they’d been able to cause any real violence. And to have a subject that’d caused her fear and pain, they were all the more ready to pounce. They twisted and writhed around her, climbing up and leaping off her body, hurtling to the floor but not touching the man knelt before her. Not yet.
Tilting her head back, her eyes slipped closed. Samara could feel them pleading with her. Their thirst for blood and violence nearly overwhelming. Their whispers of safety and promise caressed her ears. A smile played on her lips. Inhaling deeply, she slowly breathed out as she once again looked at Blackwood. His utter terror caused a malicious grin to grow.
All at once she grabbed the walls she’d held in her mind. The ones she built to help control her Shadows. To stop them from mindlessly causing violence. She gripped those walls, and proceeded to rip them to shreds. Directing all her ire towards the man before her, she made sure the only thing her Shadows would maim was the worm. And maim they did.
At feeling the gates she’d used to contain them vanish, there was a moment of utter stillness. All Shadows in the room stood still for a beat. This type of freedom was unusual to them. It caused an unnatural lull in its movement. Any warmth in the room was instantly sucked out, breath able to be seen in condensation clouds.
Then, they descended. To the guests it was impossible to see what was happening. But they could hear the agonized wails of a man in pain; a man in fear for his own life. Shortly after the screams started, the overwhelming scent of penny-copper emanated from the darkness at the center of the room. Hot crimson blood began splattering from the darkness, striking guests and marble alike. They might not have been able to see what was happening, but they could make a well-educated guess.
Samara, on the other hand, had no trouble seeing through her Shadows. She watched, as they dove from every corner and crevice of the room around her towards the kneeling worm. He wasn’t kneeling for very long. They lifted his body up, tossing him around like a tissue in the wind. Up was down, left was right, she could only imagine how disorienting it’d be. They’d lift him high then let him hurtle back towards the marble, smacking his flesh off the now cold floor.
When they’d had their fun tossing him around, they began a new game. While her Shadows were often able to be walked through, untouchable; they could become physical if they wanted, as solid as a hand. Now, she watched as they morphed themselves into infinitesimally miniscule spikes. Then they began racing along the cloth and skin of Blackwood. Almost instantly blood welled up in their wake. Blackwood screeched and swung his arms. Attempting to fight off an attacker he’d never be able to touch. Millions upon millions of little spikes wrecked havoc upon his flesh causing an unidentifiable amount of lacerations. None of the wounds were especially deep though. Each cut placed to cause as much pain as possible.
Samara felt irritation grow as his screams turned to curses and eventually begging. Sending a brief thought to her Shadows, she felt a smirk curl her lip as they were quick to comply.
They pried his mouth open, his words slurring. They worked in tandem. Some to keep him still. Some to keep him facing her. Some to hold out his tongue. And finally, some to rip out the squirming appendage. His screams turned to shrieks. But no words left his lips, she noted, pleased.
Finally, her Shadows moved on to their last act. With blood covering the outside of the man, they wanted to see the rest inside. Quickly her Shadows entered whatever orifice they could find. They smothered themselves inside the body that’d caused her so much trouble. They kept going and going and going and going. All too soon or maybe not soon enough, they began razing. No part inside the man was left uscathed. They rampaged around inside his body, slicing, burning, ripping and tearing anything they could. Samara watched as they ripped around inside and then tore themselves out. Only to enter from the new hole to do it all over again.
His screams finally stopped but not before she could meet his eyes. She connected with his tear and terror filled eyes. She could tell he was begging her to get them to stop. Her only response was a quirked brow. She’d given him a choice and he’d made one.
Eventually her Shadows retreated, going to the corners they came from. Some nudged her back, stopping the puddle of ever-growing blood from reaching and staining her feet. She looked down at the still husk before her, apathy overtaking her features. Silence reigned around her. Shock present in all of their auras. She could even feel the shock Lucifer held. He didn’t expect her Shadows to cause damage like that. A chuckle threatened to escape her. However it was halted as she caught movement below her.
Blackwood’s soul crawled from his mangled corpse. With a snap of her fingers a collector was at her side.
“Take him away for now. I’ll let you know what I want done with him at a later date.” Her tone was short as she gestured below. The collector was quick to drag the soul out by his hair. Blackwood was still reeling from the remnants of what had happened, and therefore didn’t feel the further abuse.
Samara hummed before turning around and facing her King. She tilted her head back to look him in the eye as he stared down at her from the railing. She sent a pulse of satisfaction, gratefulness and finality towards him. Sure, it was a lot to send at once but her King was smart, he’d figure it out. She was finished for the night. She was ready to return to their chambers.
She watched as he quickly descended the stairs, joining her at her side. He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on her skin. His eyes belied the raging want swirling within him.
“Let this be an acknowledgment from you all. Your new Queen may seem merciful. But rest assured Her cruelty can know no bounds.” He bellowed, not that their guests had even whispered anything, silence still reigning around them. “We thank you for joining us for tonight’s events. Please, enjoy the festivities but your Queen and I will be retiring for the night.”
With her hand held in his, he escorted the both of them out of the room, passed the bowing and kneeling guests. Neither spoke a word to the other as he led her towards their room. But the air between sparked with words unsaid and lingering intimacy.
Perhaps in another world Lucifer would’ve ushered her into their room and crowded her up against the door. Ravishing her there. And perhaps in another world she would’ve greatly welcomed it. But that didn’t happen in this one. Instead, he guided her into their room. She could feel that he wanted her. He wanted to do what she’d imagined, but he didn’t. While he might’ve been aroused and heady with desire, she wasn’t. She’d just watched a man she’d loathed be tortured to death. There was no way in Heaven she’d be able to feel desire tonight.
Instead, he gathered her into the lavish bathroom from earlier. With a snap of his fingers the oversized tub was filled with steaming water and amaryllis petals. He’d also divested the both of them of their clothes, she noted.
He entered the tub first, leaning back against the side with his long legs stretched out. He held a hand out to her. She could see the desire in his eyes as he visually devoured her bare body, but she could see his restraint too. For that she was glad.
She was quickly settled resting back against him. He stroked a wet hand through her hair, a soothing hum building in his chest. She ran gentle fingers down his thighs that were bracketing her body.
“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, not wanting to break the intimate atmosphere around them.
“I did make a promise to you. It was magnificent, by the way. Your wrath.” He rumbled, his chest vibrating along her back. She hummed and leaned her head back against his chest.
“Mmm. Hopefully you’ll never be on the receiving end of it. You don’t think it was too much?” She tilted her head to the side to peer up and back at him. He fixed his eyes onto hers.
“It was a sight they needed to see. No doubt they’d have thought you weak. A meer witch. Had they not seen your display. Now, they’ll be much more inclined to listen to you.” He explained, reaching up to brush some hair out of her face. She hummed once again, settling back against her King. If this was her first day as Queen, she was interested to see what the rest held for her.
Waking in the arms of her King was a new experience. One that she was looking forward to repeating for all of eternity. What was strange was not seeing the sun rise. She knew that there was sun in areas of Hell. But here in Pandemonium there was no sunlight. A part of her was eager to explore Hell and see what this realm had to offer.
The arms that encased her waist briefly tightened, pulling her forward and flush against the bare chest she rested on. A low hum met her ears as she tilted her head up.
“My Queen.” His words were laced with content and possessiveness. She ran a hand up his bare flank to rest on his pectoral beside her face, fingers stroking the skin there.
“My King.” She whispered the words. Hearing him inhale deeply, an overwhelming sense of fondness squeezed inside her chest. Lucifer, while not a good man, was good to her. She looked forward to what forever held for them. She turned her head to press soft kisses to the bare skin before her.
Feeling his hand trail up along her bare back, she shivered as she realized they were both still unclothed. She’d fallen asleep during their soak and Lucifer had deemed it unnecessary to clothe either one of them as he put them to bed apparently.
His hand was quick to clasp the back of her neck and drag her up his body. His free hand continued to stroke meaningless patterns along the expanse of her back, minute trembles of her skin followed his fingers.
Now that she was closer, she could see the blatant hunger that shone in his eyes. With a small grin, she craned herself the rest of the way forward. Their lips met in a series of searing, wanting caresses. She trailed her hands up his body until they rested on his shoulders. Their kiss quickly careened into more heated territory. Teeth catching flesh, battling to see who would yield first.
Samara hummed before she began moving. Never parting her lips from her King’s, she braced her hands against his shoulders and quickly straddled her legs along his torso. His hand that had been running along her back ran down to grip the outside of her thigh, his fingers digging into the flesh. A soft sound escaped her, her lips finally parting from him for a moment. Their harsh breathing filling the room.
Before Lucifer could do anything, Samara’s head ducked down. Now trailing soft, heated kisses starting from the corner of his lips across his jaw to down along his neck. She felt as both his hands now gripped her thighs, moans rumbling in his chest. Absently she recognized as his hands began crawling up towards her waist. She was still too busy pressing her lips to his exposed skin. Now at the hollow of his throat, a wicked thought crossed her mind. Quick as a flash her sharp teeth snagged the delicate skin and bit down. She heard his tortured groan before the world flipped.
Feeling the bedsheets and pillows at her back now, she blinked up at Lucifer. He now hovered over her, her legs now wrapped around his torso, his one hand gripping her waist, the other hand pinning her shoulder down. She grinned up at him, licking away the taste of blood on her lips. She watched in delight as crimson trickled down from his throat.
“Naughty little Queen. Perhaps a vampire has come and replaced my darling witch.” He rumbled, leaning down and silencing the giggles that were escaping her. She raised her arms and twined them around the back of his neck.
In the blink of an eye her arms were wrenched away, his hands pinning her wrists above her head. She narrowed her eyes at him as he leaned back once again.
“Ah ah, naughty Queens don’t get to touch. Keep your hands there for me, will you my flower.” He demanded, a smirk curling his lips as she pouted. She huffed but nodded her head.
He went to work quickly. His hands trailed down her arms as he began moving back. His head leaning down to lavish her throat with scorching presses of his lips. His hands continued down, stopping as he gripped her waist. He raised his hands a bit, able to slowly swipe his thumbs along the delicate skin under her breasts.
Her panting breath filled the room with sound as she clenched her hands into fists. He’d told her to keep her hands there, and dammit she was going to try.
Her back arched slightly as his mouth trailed lower, going along the flesh of her sternum down to the valley between her breasts. He pressed a final kiss there before as quick as a snake ensnared her one nipple in his unforgiving mouth. His hand palmed her free breast, stroking the skin and pinching the little bud.
A sharp moan escaped her lips as he deliciously tortured her sensitive flesh. His sharp teeth lightly worried the hardened bud he had captured. Pulling back he admired the now darkly flushed skin, running a finger along it, flicking it as he went. Another moan left her as he ducked down again, this time to leave quick little nips at the sensitive underside of her breast. Her legs tightened around him, her hands twining in the pillows they rested on. She felt him chuckle along her skin.
“You are being a very good girl, my sweet. And good girls get rewarded. Now, let me get my answer to a question I’ve had since we’ve met. Do you taste as good as you look?”
He abandoned his ministrations he’d held on her breasts. His hands lingering as he began kissing lower. Down the middle of her stomach before stopping just above her soaking core. He gripped her thighs once again in a bruising grip, his nose tucked along her neatly trimmed curls.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she heard him inhale deeply, a flush racing down her body. Only to snap open at the guttural growl he released before he dove in. And really there was no other way to describe it as diving in. She’d barely had time to twitch before his arms were pinning down her hips and his mouth sealed on her core. His tongue traced a torturous pattern on her heated flesh, dipping in and tasting her arousal. Her hands flew to tangle in his hair, her back arching off the bed as his lips and tongue found her little button. She felt herself leak more arousal, her hips unconsciously trying to twist away from the onslaught he brought against her sensitive litte core. He was unrelenting, his arms tensing and pinning her, unallowing her a chance to escape. Her moans filled the room as she tugged at his hair, her thigh trembling. He pinned her down just as easily with one arm as he’d done both. He brought his free hand down to join him by his mouth. His fingers trailed along the slickened flesh, before finding where he wanted them to be and began slowly pushing in. She felt herself flutter along his thick finger, not feeling any discomfort until he began pressing in more fingers. She hummed and tugged at his hair, his tongue beginning another attack on her little button. With three of his fingers caressing hidden places inside of her, she felt as electricity began racing down her spine. Her moans grew in pitch and her back arched off the bed as he increased the intensity of his onslaught. White-hot pleasure erupted inside her, her core clenching around his fingers, more arousal leaking from her, her thighs squeezing around him.
She collapsed back against the bed, gasping breath. She felt him pepper kisses along her thighs and lower belly. She ran an apologetic hand through his hair, no doubt her grip had gotten unreasonably tight.
“If feasting upon you was to be my only purpose for the rest of my days, I’d spend that time in ultimate bliss.” His words made her chuckle softly, stroking a hand down his chest. He looked beyond appetizing; skin flushed, his lips still wet from her arousal, hair a riot.
“Who am I to stop you?” She teased, her feet resting against the bed but her legs still parted around his body. He shot her a wicked grin before climbing his knees closer. Their lower bodies nearer now. Anticipation shot through her as he palmed her hip, stroking the skin there.
“Now, my little witch, let me have what I’ve dreamed of since I’ve seen you blossom into the young beauty you are. Let me have you.” He murmured, staring into her eyes. Samara felt her cheeks heat once again but nodded her assent. His pleased hum caused her to flush even further.
His free hand reached down to help guide his member to her core. He kept their eyes locked together as he began pressing in. Samara’s lip was captured between her teeth as he continued slowly. The feeling was unusual, of being filled and stretched. Some pain threatened to drain her arousal but a twitch of his hand and it was gone. She panted as he continued to press in. It felt neverending. Until finally he stopped. His hips flushed with hers. She felt stuffed to the seams. It was wonderful.
Her head collapsed back onto the pillow, her eyes rolling up into her head as her lips parted to release another moan. Taking this as encouragement, Lucifer began pulling back, only to quickly glide forward once again. A punched-out moan ran from her lungs. She’d never felt like this before. Full and whole and pleasure coursing through her veins.
She could feel as their power grew around them again, much like during their Waltz the night before. Sex magick was a powerful thing. But it was different than that. More than that. This was more than just their power mingling together and complementing one another. Now, it was merging to become one.
Her hand fluttered down, trembling, looking for his. Delighted she felt as he quickly grabbed hers, sensing how overwhelmed she felt. Both his hands clasped hers, his body rising and arching over hers, surrounding her. His lips pressed against hers, his hips starting up a punishing rhythm. He pressed her hands into the pillow on either side of her head, pulling his head back slightly. She took in gasping breaths as he continued on his quest of pounding her into the mattress. Her legs snaked up to wrap around his hips, craving the closeness of his body. She heard him huff before he released one of her hands to reach down and cradle her lower body, suspending that part in the air. Her now freed hand raked claws down his back. She heard him growl in satisfaction, his pace somehow increasing.
“Please please please please.” Her whispered mantra began chanting. She heard him chuckle against her throat that he’d been laving his tongue along.
His hand that had still been pinning hers to the pillows let go, running down until he managed to snake it under her back. Using his new hold he pulled her up as he sat back on his heels. Now seated in his lap, he used his hold on her to start a filthy grind of his hips. Her lips parted in pleasure, her eyes rolling up as this new position caused sparks to zip through her body. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his throat, panting in his intoxicating scent.
She felt as his movements grew more frantic, faster. His breath now panting as he seeked his release. She shivered as he snuck a hand down, feeling where they were joined, until he found her little button. He set a merciless pace both with his hips and with his fingers. She felt as her spine began to tighten, the ball of pleasure in her belly growing and growing and growing. When she felt she couldn’t take anymore, she felt the same white-hot pleasure of before erupt inside of her. Her back arched and she strained into Lucifer, her cry of pleasure echoing in the room. She could hear him murmuring under his breath, it took effort to focus on his words. When she realized what he was saying her core clenched even tighter around him. Mine, mine, mine they were whispers along her skin. He continued his onslaught, her body jerking from the overstimulation that wreaked havoc on her body. Finally she felt his movements stutter before a groan escaped his lungs, pinning her body still to his.
Pulling her head back, she looked up into his eyes. An exhausted smile played along her lips before she ducked in and pressed a sweet thankful kiss against his lips. His hand reached up and brushed her hair back, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She giggled as he tipped them over onto their sides. He held her close, her head once again resting on his chest, listening to the thump of his heart. Her fingers stroked lightly at the skin of his chest. He played with her hair, starting at the roots to stroke through the tousled strands, down her back only to start again.
“My first official decree as Queen is that you are required to do that to me everyday for the rest of eternity.” Her words caused a guffaw of laughter to shake his chest, her head bouncing with the movement. She grinned at his laughter. She looked up at his mirthful face, his eyes sparkling.
“Well, My Queen, while I may be a cruel King, I would never be so cruel as to deny you anything. Consider it written in brimstone.” He murmured as he stroked a finger along her cheekbone before tapping her nose. Her scrunching nose earned her another chuckle.
“Is it always like that?”
“For us, yes. Now, it’s time for naughty Queens to rise and ready. It’s your first day of Court. We have business to attend.” His words were punctuated with a sharp slap to her bottom. Her sharp yelp was more from surprise than actual pain. Still it spurred her up and out of the bed, but not before pressing another kiss to his lips.
Her legs wobbled for a moment before blood rushed down to settle them. As she took slow steps towards the bathroom, she could feel an achiness from the activities they’d just partaken in. She could hear him chuckle behind her, causing her to throw him a sharp look which only increased his amusement.
As she was in the bathroom, she cleaned herself up. A quick look in the mirror showed her the disarray her hair was in, as well as the darkening bruises that trailed down her throat. With a dismayed sigh, she waved her hand and a glamour covered them. Sure she could’ve healed them and made them disappear but what was the fun in that. Plus, it was a naughty little secret she could have, knowing that her King had claimed her and she had physical evidence.
Entering the bedroom once more, she noticed the golden dress laying across the bed. This one more sleek than the ballgown she’d worn last night. Turning to look at Lucifer, who was now dressed in another elegant grandiose golden jacket and pants combo, she gestured towards the dress. He approached her, his eyes slowly trailing along her body.
“As much as I hate to have your delectable body covered, it is nice to see you clothed in such appropriate attire.” With his words he grabbed her hand and spun her quickly towards the mirror, releasing her as she went.
Coming to a dizzying halt at the mirror she went to cast a dark look at Lucifer but was stopped as she realized he’d had the dress appear on her as she spun. Sniffing she turned to inspect herself and the dress. This dress, while more sleek, showed far more skin than the one the night before. The floor-length skirt was half sheer lace; and the sleeves fell from her shoulders, showing off much of her chest. It was more elegant than she’d originally thought. Especially paired with her hair now raising in some elaborate style with her crown resting regally around her head.
“There, fit for a Queen I would say. I fear My Court will be more enamoured with your attention than they could ever cast towards me.” Lucifer’s hands settled on her hips behind, peering into her eyes in the mirror. She leaned back into his embrace, sighing.
“Then I shall endeavor to remain on my best behavior.” While her tone was joking, she still felt nerves race through her. Lucifer’s hands squeezed briefly.
“I can feel your uneasiness, My flower. Trust that I will not lead you astray. Learning all the ins and outs of Court will be easy for you. You’re a natural. Besides, with your little display last night, I won’t be surprised to see a few of mine own lay fealty at your feet.” He assured, turning her in his arms. She ran a hand up his chest, trailing a finger along the exposed skin of his lower throat.
“I trust you.” Her words rang clear throughout the room. She could feel as his triumph and pride swirled around them. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead before stepping back and extending his arm.
“Then to Court we go.” At his urging she laid her hand within the crook of his elbow. He made quick work of the twisting hallways. Her head spun at all the turns they made as they went to the throne room.
Finally, they reached the open doors of the throne room. While the room itself looked similar to as it did the night before; now there were rows of seats lining the perimeter of the room, creating an aisle down the center. Each seat was filled with a person of some kind. Closer to the stairs sat the three demon Kings of Hell.
As Lucifer led them down the aisle and towards the stairs, all persons stood and bowed deeply, silence reigning over them. An occasional ‘Your Majestys’ would reach their ears, but was ultimately ignored. As she was led past the three demon Kings, they all three greeted her with a ‘Your Majesty’ and a bow. She inclined her head in acknowledgment before being led up the stairs. Lucifer stopped at the railing in front of their thrones.
She looked out over the sea of neatly lined people as they stared up at her and Lucifer. There was a crowd beginning to form outside the door. No doubt demons and such coming to Court to have their problems fixed.
Not even a month ago, she’d thought herself nothing but an orphan. With a family who loved her and a successful business she’d built from the ground. She had been content with it all. Now, she stood before a people, their Queen. With a handsome and menacing King at her side that cherished her. She’d experienced loss and betrayal at his side sure, but she’d never felt happier. Finally, she felt complete and that she’d found somewhere she belonged. She was exactly where she was meant to be. That she was sure of.
With those thoughts, she slid her hand down from the crook of his arm to settle it on his hand that was resting on the marble railing. She could see the corners of his lips start to curl from her periphery.
“As this is your Queen’s first day of Court, we will be keeping it short. Court is now in session!” Lucifer’s words overtook the silence of the room. Their subjects still stood from their seats. As soon as Lucifer was done speaking, the people down below began chanting.
“Hail Samara! Hail Satan!” The words of the people rang around the room. Samara shot a quick pleased smile up at Lucifer as he turned them towards their thrones. Much like the night before, he helped her to her throne before sitting in his. He kept their hands interlaced over the arms of their thrones.
She watched as someone from the doorway stumbled in, their hands fidgeting with each other as they walked down the aisle. One of the demon Kings rose to meet him. Samara released a pleased sigh, her sound causing Lucifer to raise her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. Meeting his curious gaze, Samara sent a pulse of content and happiness his way. To her pleasure, she was sent back his own wave of pride and happiness. Squeezing his hand she turned her attention back to their subjects below them. Content in the knowledge that yes, she was exactly where she was meant to be.
