Jana 🌟

I'm on a mission to draw more evil characters now!🔥

Please vote for which other schmuck you'd like to see illustrated!

Standing in Sharess’ Caress, you’d readied yourself to finally submit to the inevitability of a deal with the devil.

Raphael had waited, as promised. When you’d barged into the room, he’d been lounging on an armchair, surveying his perfect manicure. He’d already had a smile on his face before you even opened your mouth.

“I accept.”

Raphael tilted his head and regarded you. Silence stretched, your heart pounding. The words out of his mouth were unwelcome at best. “The terms of the deal have been amended.”

Somewhere behind you, Karlach spat a slew of profanities, heat cascading from her chest. Apparently your other companions were stunned into silence, or perhaps resigned to the unfair, cruel whims of the fiend before you.

“What do you want now?” you asked.

“One night—” Raphael twirled his wrist, the dramatic pause stretching into eternity, “—with you.” A decisive finger, pointed in your direction.

A shiver travelled the length of your spine, fear and arousal clamouring for dominance. Every sick, forbidden desire rose in your throat like bile, threatening to spill free in a spluttered plea. 

Please.

The silver-tongued bane of your existence waited patiently, though you both knew you'd accept the terms. What choice did you have, after all? To your companions, you would be heralded as a hero, willing to sacrifice your pride for their wellbeing.

You'd not tell them how often you'd craved Raphael's touch when in your bedroll late at night. This was the culmination of the incessant push and pull, the verbal sparring and crackling tension.

“A night of what?” you asked, supplying the expected pedantry. 

“Now, now, Little Mouse. Don't be coy.”

Wyll all but gagged, and Karlach—bless her heated heart—lay a hand on your shoulder in solidarity. If only she knew of the fierce throb between your thighs.

“Sunset to sunrise, a night you'll never forget,” Raphael supplied.

“You're coercing her into fucking you?” Karlach’s angry cry rang out.

Raphael's smile remained, his smooth reply directed only to you. “I'll not take what isn't freely given.”

Of course he knew you'd give in to your base urges eventually, flawed little mortal creature you were. Whilst Karlach scoffed in triumph at this perfect little loophole, your pulse steadied but didn't stop the rapid churning of worst-case scenarios in your mind. Where was the catch?

When you finally answered, a gritted out “fine”, Raphael’s triumphant smile widened into something hungry.

The devil, come to devour his Little Mouse.

~

Raphael's hellish home was more or less what you'd expected—dark and decadent, much like himself. It was with some trepidation that you'd taken his hand and allowed him to spirit you away, but now you stood in what was presumably his bedroom, all that remained was resignation. Whilst mulling over your fate, Raphael offered a glass of wine, almost pulling a laugh from your throat at the civility of it all. You reached out and took the proffered drink, gazing into its crimson depths. 

“It isn't poison,” Raphael said whilst pouring himself a glass.

“I was just thinking.”

The rich wine slid easily down your throat, settling uneasily in your stomach. Nerves were a rare companion these days, but Raphael’s power, his assuredness was enough to throw you off-kilter. Suspicion laced your every interaction, yet still that allure prevailed. He was a mystery, a monster wrapped in seduction.

Another glass of wine, inhibitions recklessly thrown to the wind.

“Why me? Why now?” you asked.

Hells, it was hot down here. The heat only added to the urge to undress before Raphael's piercing gaze.

“So many questions,” he chuckled. “Do my motives matter when the outcome is something we both desire?”

Raphael stalked his domain in a slow circle. Caging you in, appraising his prize.

“So you keep saying, Raphael.”

“Say my name again, I do enjoy it in that biting tongue of yours.”

With a halfhearted scoff, you placed your drained glass on a table laden with fruit and turned to face the devil with as much courage as you could muster. “Hurry up and be done with it, then.”

With almost lackadaisical speed, Raphael approached. 

So close. Close enough to smell him—brimstone and musk—and to see every line on his devastatingly handsome face. Gone were his infuriatingly poetic monologues; Raphael was deathly silent. He must have been able to hear your hammering heart.

His hand reached out, and you ceased to breathe.

Goosebumps erupted where his fingers trailed; a tantalising path across the exposed skin of your collarbone before encircling your neck with unexpected tenderness. The room seemed to evaporate in a haze of lust.

Swallowing thickly, you kept your eyes on his, looking for any tells, any clue that he would turn and crush your throat. All you saw was a mirror of your own blown pupils. Golden irises turned inky black.

Whatever he planned to do with you, he craved it.

And you were too far gone to question anymore. This man—this devil—would be your undoing. 

Your head tilted instinctively. An offering, which Raphael didn’t hesitate to take. Breath heavy, the last remaining crumb of your resolve faltered with the low growl that reverberated against your throat. You gasped as Raphael’s teeth dragged across your pulse, hands tangling in his hair as your body—that treacherous, mortal body—exploded with want. Heart clenching, stomach swooping, abdomen twisting.

Yes, yes, yes.

If you were damned, you might as well indulge your body before signing away your soul.

Weak to do much more than writhe in his grip, you lost yourself in the heat of his tongue against your neck, Raphael’s firm, roving hands. Clothes fell away as if by mere suggestion, your nipples hardening under his palm.

And suddenly you were in his arms. Plucked from the ground, carried towards the huge bed in the middle of the circular room. Plush red sheets, velvet swathed from every corner. It suited him well; ostentatious in every regard. The fabrics felt fantastic against your skin, and more so when Raphael pinned you to them with the full weight of his body, thighs spreading your legs.

“Is this all you imagined?” he purred, roughly pulling free the last remnants of your clothes.

It hadn’t escaped your notice that you were very much naked, and he was still fully clothed, apart from the top button of his jacket you’d managed to yank free. A tantalising peek of thick chest hair drew your eye and your core throbbed in response.

“I imagined you naked,” you replied. “And with horns.”

“Hah!” Raphael barked.

He rolled his hips, letting you feel just what lay beneath his clothing. Thick and hard, the friction of his cock grinding against you pulled a wanton moan from your mouth. 

“Fuck.”

“Is that it? You want me to shed my human skin just for you?”

Another press of his cock between your thighs reciprocated by a sharp tug of his hair. 

“Both,” you gasped. That’s what you’d imagined when you’d touched yourself, wasn’t it? A taste of the man; your fill of the devil. “I want both.”

“Such a greedy Little Mouse.”

You scrabbled to unclothe him, no longer thinking about your deal or the consequences, only driven by carnal lust. The frills and gilded buttons fell away, your fingers combing through the hair on his chest, down to yet more bloody buttons on his trousers.

Raphael let you work, kneeling to watch over you imperiously with that scowling little smirk you wanted desperately to fuck away, whilst his fingers stroked your hair—as if you were nothing more than an obedient little pet. You didn’t want to think of all the ramifications of how that train of thought made your body react.

You unpicked a button, and then another and another, until his cock sprang free into your waiting palm. 

Admittedly, it was a very nice cock. You didn’t plan on telling Raphael, though the whimper you let out might have tipped him off. His resulting laugh—a low rumble in his chest—trailed a path of heat down your body, as did his moan when you started to stroke him. Hells, that voice. You’d never stood a chance of resisting.

His thumb parted your lips, pressed into your mouth to find your tongue ready and waiting.

“Let us see what that smart mouth can do, hm?”

Brave of him, you thought, to allow his cock anywhere near your mouth when you’d threatened to bite it off on more than one occasion. Looking back, the threat had only been a twisted sort of foreplay.

Lips already swollen from his prodding, slick with saliva, Raphael pulled your head towards him by a handful of hair. By the scruff of the neck. Your lips parted willingly, taking his glistening cockhead into your mouth. 

Salt coated your tongue. The musky scent of his skin intensified with his arousal. Raphael thrust deeper into your throat with little regard for your comfort and every tear that leaked from your eyes was ignored. All you could hear was his throaty growls as he fucked your mouth and the wet suction of your cheeks. 

Shamefully, it was bliss.

Your inner monologue was a mess of ‘yes’, ‘fuck’, ‘use me’—words you wanted to voice but couldn’t, so you tried to show him by peering up at him with hooded eyes.

In truth, you’d expected him to be entirely disinterested. But he was watching. Intensely.

Pupils dilated, irises black.

Jaw clenched.

With another throb of arousal through your neglected core, you realised that Raphael was close to coming apart. The muscles around your neck slackened, relenting any control you’d had. He thrust harder and faster through your whimpers until his cock twitched and hands held you firm.

An onslaught of sensation proceeded to overwhelm your senses: the hot spurt of his cum down your throat; the searing pain of his fingers gripping your hair; the slew of guttural moans that erupted from his chest. 

“Such an exquisite mouth. You so rarely disappoint.”

You whimpered around his cock in reply.

Jaw aching, Raphael finally pulled you free once he’d been drained, every last drop of his spend inside or upon you. Hells, you were wrecked already. The dark intensity of Raphael’s gaze faded as he regarded you, a thumb wiping the corner of your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” he finally asked.

Far from being shocked, you just huffed a laugh. “Wondering when I’m getting something in return.”

Raphael smiled and shook his head. “Oh, you’ll get what’s afforded to you in due course.”

You narrowed your eyes, which only prompted him to laugh, and he climbed over your legs onto the bed next to you. For a sickening moment you thought he was going to lie back and fall asleep, but instead he rolled off and swaggered over to a nearby armchair. You followed the sway of his hips with interest. Wood screeched across the obsidian floor as he dragged the chair back towards the bed, circled it and sat down facing you. He shuffled to get comfortable, naked leg crossing the other, his chin placed on his hand.

Silence. 

Raphael looked at you and you'd never felt so naked, so exposed. Perched in the middle of the bed, brimming with arousal.

Then he waved an imperious hand and said, “Well, carry on.”

You stared back at him, mouth agape. “What?”

Raphael leaned forward and flourished his hand. “Pleasure yourself.” Fingers curled suggestively in the air.

Oh.

“I hope this is a prelude to something more satisfying,” you grumbled, shuffling back towards the top of the bed to rest against the cushioned headboard.

“I am sure it will be intensely satisfying for me, watching you come apart. We've all night—no need to rush to any grand finale. Now, show me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”

You scoffed, cheeks heating as you battled to fight off the paranoia that Raphael had indeed been intruding upon your privacy. That second's hesitation was enough for him to swell with arrogant pride, a toothy grin crossing that handsome face.

A tentative hand skimmed your breast and you closed your eyes, imagining it was his. At the first gentle friction against your sensitive clit the room melted away and you were back in your bedroll, succumbing to forbidden pleasures whilst your companions slept, none-the-wiser. 

Fingers glided over slick skin, tension pulling tight in your core. The little circles you wound left you lightheaded and breathless within seconds, a strangled cry escaping your lips.

But you didn't need to stifle your voice here.

So you moaned his name into the echoing chasm of his bedroom. Again and again, losing yourself in the pleasure.

“Look at me.” The command came from Raphael in a quiet rumble, his voice enough to compel you to open your eyes. “Look at me when you fall apart.”

He sat deathly still. Your eyes skimmed his posture; the only indication he'd been affected by your performance was the clawed grip around the chair's arms and the raging erection that lay across his stomach. 

And those eyes. Once again shrouded in shadow, bottomless wells of carnal desire.

Your fingers dipped inside your entrance, wishing so desperately that it was him. Hips rolled, back arching. Fuck, you were close. 

“Come.”

A single word from Raphael and you unravelled. The intensity of the orgasm stole your last remaining breath, blood rushing to leave you dizzy whilst wave after wave of pleasure engulfed your body. But it wasn't enough. He'd left you wanting by his absence.

And still he sat, barely moving. Waiting.

“Please,” you sighed. 

Your orgasm had only left you wanting more, and the realisation of Raphael’s control was enough to conjure a pitiful spark of fury inside a body already aflame with desire.

But your plea had been heard and the devil had deigned to answer. Raphael finally moved, stalking towards the bed at his usual, languid pace. He climbed upon the sheets next to you, sitting back on his heels to give you a good view of his thighs, the rigid cock nestled against thick, dark hair.

Your fingers still pumped inside you, so wholly unsatisfying you could have cried.

“Say it again, lover,” Raphael growled.

“Fuck you,” you grit out.

That last shred of pride out of the way, you parted your legs for him and whimpered another plea. Raphael smiled, your stomach twisting in knots.

“Tell me what you want. Exactly what you want.”

Bastard.

“I want you inside me. Please, Raphael—just fuck me.”

His head fell back in what could only be described as ecstasy, his cock twitching as if those words alone surpassed any bodily gratification. Only then did he take himself in hand. A few slow strokes before he was between your thighs, towering over you, then finally, blessedly, lining himself up with your slick entrance. 

Sliding inside you with one smooth stroke, Raphael braced his elbows either side of your head, caging you in. The sudden fullness made you cry out, but the sound was quickly smothered by the unexpected press of Raphael's lips.

He was kissing you, and that was the most shocking thing about this whole experience so far. 

Teeth grazed your lip. A bite when you moaned for him. His tongue found its way into your mouth and you let him devour you. All the while he fucked you with sharp snaps of his hips that muddled an already addled mind. 

Too much, too much. Sensitive from your orgasm, your body turned limp and pliable, quivering and breathless.

Raphael didn’t relent, just took what he wanted.

You were going to come again, and again, for however long he decided to prolong this exquisite torture.

Scooped up in his arms, Raphael maneuvered you to sit on top of him, his teeth nipping at your collarbone whilst his hands pushed and pulled your waist into a steady rhythm. It was only a brief reprieve from the relentless pounding as he insisted on controlling every movement. Nevertheless, it felt good to ride him in some minor semblance of power.

“Gods, yes.”

“Divinity won’t help you now, little one.”

He erupted in a torrent of hellfire. You readied yourself to scream, but instead of burning you were engulfed in a pleasant warmth as Raphael shed his human skin before your very eyes. Still holding you tightly, his body morphed. Horns erupted from his forehead, teeth and nails sharpened. The monster had come to play. 

What you were wholly unprepared for was the swell of his cock inside you.

Your cries were manic as his new shape forced your body to accomodate. Thicker and longer, and you had the distinct impression that Raphael’s fiendish cock was much more curved. Whatever the Hells was happening down there, you’d never felt quite as full as you did then.

With his transformation, Raphael began fucking you with renewed vigor. Your hands traced the ridges of his crimson skin, held tight to where his horns protruded from his head.

And Raphael—he used every new part of this guise to make you scream his name.

His kiss became more feral, sharp incisors cutting your lip to drip blood into his mouth. Claws scraped skin at your back, leaving welts and cuts you’d feel for days. His grip was iron, holding you rigid whilst he pounded into you from below, and when you came apart for him a second time he joined you in shared ecstasy. Another mark within your body to join those upon it.

You didn't leave his bed until sunrise—or what Raphael insisted was sunrise. How he could tell down here in the Hells was anyone's guess. You could have been there, steeped in bliss, for days.

But he did let you leave. Sore, slightly confused and willing to do it all over again.

“I'm still waiting for the catch,” you said, staring at the swirling portal before you.

Raphael laughed and ran a hand across your cheek. He’d returned to his human form for this goodbye, though there remained a feral gleam in his eyes.

“My stalwart hero, I just wanted to hear you beg.”

Infuriatingly, you blushed. “I thought you might want to keep me here forever.”

“Oh, you'll be back. I've no use for a prisoner when my Little Mouse scurries so willingly into my grasp.”