The Old King and the New Bride Ch. 04

Here, let me help.

I don't waste any time getting him the relief he so desperately needs. I reach down and grip his enormous girth in my hand, holding completely still when he twitches and groans softly. I wait for a second so he can steady himself, then I slowly, gently start to stroke him. I move my hand all the way up and down his cock, taking my time to make sure no part of him goes unloved. He groans again, his wings flaring out a bit before falling limply to the ground.

I continue to keep my leisurely pace, giving him the pleasure he needs but making sure he has time to enjoy it. With his chest pressed against mine as I squeeze him off, I'm unable to see exactly what I'm doing. I'm flying blind here, so I have to rely on my sense of touch and his reactions to know if I'm doing a good job.

Apparently when it comes to hand jobs, I'm a fucking rock star. Every time I pull back on his cock, his hips jerk and a low groan escapes his throat. His body twitches under my fingers, and a tiny bit of pride swells in my chest. First I've got the best rack he's ever seen, then he tells me I'm awesome at blowjobs, and now I rock at jerking him off, too. My husband is a lucky, lucky man-angel-thing.

"Doing alright?" I whisper in his ear.

He groans and straightens his spine, pulling back just enough that his mouth can touch mine again. Our kiss is gentle, a long, slow melding of tongues and lips that send a flurry of sparks racing up my spine. I tighten my grip on him and he moans, a sound that's half animal, half surrender.

"More," he begs, his mouth barely brushing against mine.

I smile against his lips and quicken my pace a little, secretly enjoying his gasp of surprised pleasure. As I continue to kiss and stroke my husband, I realize just how far we've come from our wedding day. It's been barely a week that we've been legally married, and I've gone from being terrified of his touch to relishing it. I love being close to him, whether it's curling up with him in bed, or laughing with him over screwing with people, or jerking him off in the middle of the hallway. I finally, really love this creature like I promised I would.

I break away from his mouth and pull his body back against me so I can whisper in his ear. "I love you."

"I love you, too." His whispered breath grazes the skin of my neck, making me shiver.

I never stop stroking him, but I'm surprised at how quickly he responds. Before tonight, saying he loved me was a challenge for him. He would pause, almost thinking if he did love me, then say it with a strained voice. But now, his response was automatic, as if he spoke his feelings without thinking. I smile and kiss his shoulder, elated to know I've finally won him over and claimed the Devil himself as my husband.

A few seconds later, he stiffens and buries his face against my neck. His groan is muffled slightly, but just as powerful. I can feel his cock twitching in my hand, and small drips of his cum spill onto my arm. I don't care, he's my husband. Why would I be freaked out? I've already given him two mind-numbing blowjobs, so this is nothing. If anything, it has solidified my status as an awesome queen. I switch into good-girl mode and slowly, gently stroke him through his climax, savoring the fact that I can drive my husband wild with just my hands.

Mission accomplished.

He throws out one arm and braces himself against the wall, pulling away from me a bit to catch his breath. I look up at him as he comes down from his high, once again enamored with his painful beauty. His eyes are barely open, thin rings of electric gold surrounding enormous pools of jet black. His perfect lips are parted, torrents of warm breath spilling out of them and down my chest. There's a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, highlighting every dip and bulge of his muscled body.

I'm married to this. God damn...

Finally, Lucifer manages to regain his balance. His eyes flutter closed as he laughs quietly, leaning into to claim my mouth. I stand up on my toes and accept his kiss willingly, letting go of his cock so he can dress himself properly. He doesn't, instead stepping closer and pressing his hips against mine, holding me against the wall so I can't escape... as if I'd want to?

He pulls away breaking the kiss and leaning in to nuzzle my cheek with his. "Thank you. I needed that."

I giggle and close my eyes, savoring the chill of his skin on my own. "You're welcome. I hate to see my poor, sweet husband suffering from blue balls like that."

He laughs in my ear. "Such a tease. I may have to find a way to make you a bit more agreeable. Maybe we'll find something that will make sure you never leave me." His tone is light, teasing and playful.

I pause, considering my options. I know Lucifer would never hurt me, so I'm safe from being whipped or beaten in any sense of the thought. But there are others ways he could torture me, like cutting me off from sex with him or denying me caramel. But neither of those things would make me subservient, just annoyed. And does he even want me to be docile? He's always said he likes my independent spirit, so probably not. Teasing me is just another way for him to have fun and get a nice thrill at the same time.

Still, the gears in my head start to spin. I love this creature, despite his reputation, and I feel the need to prove to him that I'm all his. After this little soap opera drama we've just been through, he'll need something to prove to him that I'm not going to leave him for anything. Something dramatic, something that's sure to make him understand that I'll do anything for him...

"I...may know a way you can start..." My voice is soft, a little shaky from the idea that passes through my mind.

He pulls back an inch, concerned by my sudden shyness. "Michelle?"

I take a deep breath, forcing down my fears and insecurities. "Remember the first night we were married? The night I told you about my dream of being pierced?"

He nods, suddenly silent and focused on hearing me out. I'm slightly relieved that he's willing to listen to this. Having him shoot me down now would destroy my fragile sense of security and personal worth.

I swallow loudly. "I didn't tell you all of it."

His eyes widen, his expression both curious and alarmed. "Yes?"

"There was another piercing..." I can't finish the sentence, I may be married to Satan himself, but the very though of what I'm about to suggest has made my throat lock up.

There's a silence between us as Lucifer's face shifts from confused to thoughtful to surprised. His gaze locks on me, stunned that I would dream of such a thing and excited that I'm brave enough to try. I can only stand there and breathe shakily as the puzzle pieces click into place inside his head.

"Your clit?" His eyes never leave mine. "Really?"

I nod and chew my lip nervously, unsure of what to say or think or feel.

A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face. He's probably been imagining this for months, maybe even years, but he's never had a chance to try it out. Until I come along and gather up every ounce of my strength to suggest it. I suspect that his smile is just the tip of an iceberg of excitement. Were he less calm and controlled, he'd probably be bouncing off the walls.

"Oh, Michelle." He leans forward and kisses me again, wrapping his arms around my waist and crushing me against him.

I'm relieved that he's taking this in such good stride. Not that I'm surprised -- what man would turn down an opportunity to play with his wife? -- but I was honestly worried that he might reject the idea and make me feel foolish. With his burst of enthusiasm, I can relax.

He pulls away and grins at me. "Do I get to have the honors?"

I manage a small laugh. "Nobody touches this body but you."

"Good." He leans in and peppers kisses along my neck and shoulder. "Are you willing to let me devour you as well?"

His question catches me off guard. I'm by no means ashamed of giving oral sex, but I've never been the recipient. All three of my previous boyfriends either shrugged the idea off or made a face when I asked. Having someone devour me has always been a huge wish of mine -- when I was 15, I actually wrote it down on my Christmas list - but the chance never showed itself. His proposal sparks a deep-seated curiosity in me that's been begging to be satisfied.

I nod and smile shyly. "You'll have to break me in."

He gives me a shocked, confused face. "Never?"

I shake my head. "No guy I've ever dated was interested."

He scowls at air. "Bastards."

I stare at him, surprised. "Have you done it?"

"Once or twice." His lips twist into a mischievous smile. "I'm not a master, but I know how it woks."

My smile returns. "You're more experienced than I am."

In one smooth motion, Lucifer sips one hand behind my back, then scoops me up into his arms. I lace my finger behind his neck and let him carry me down the hall back to our room both relieved about his acceptance and nervous about what possibilities now lay beyond that door. Once we're through with Leyna, there are a thousand different possibilities of tricks and games he could throw at me. And I've just given him permission to come at me with full force.

Clit piercings, oral sex and executions. Oh my.

He lips brush my hair as we make our way down the hall. "Don't worry, my queen. When we've got you back to normal, we can play all we want. I'll show you everything I know and try everything I can think of."

He picks up the pace, flying down the empty hallway so fast the walls become a blur. I cling to him, nervous about what's going to happen once we pass through those doors. Leyna probably knows her game is finished, so she'll be ready for a fight. But so am I, and my determination to keep what's mine far outweighs her determination to steal it.

We round the corner and the doors to our room come into view. Lucifer slows to a leisurely pace, his steps stead and strong. My heart is racing, but my anger and pain at what this woman has done to me -- to us -- has set my soul on fire. I don't care how angry she is or how much she wants my life. I'm reclaiming my husband, taking back what's mine and tossing her out with the rest of the garbage.

Ready or not, here I come.

Just before we reach the doors, Lucifer stops and gently releases me from his arms. I stand, still dressed in Leyna's skin and way more nervous than I should be. I don't want to fuck up this fight, even with Lucifer fighting with me, and lose everything all over again. If I do lose, I don't know if I could ever look at my husband again. But I somehow manage to push down my unnecessarily strong worries and force myself to focus on the task at hand: kicking Leyna's ass and getting my body -- and my life -- back.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and soft lips press against my neck. "Ready?"

I swallow. "Yes and no. I want to kill her, but I'm scared I might lose."

His arms tighten around me, holding me close. "I'll be right behind you."

"Are you going to help me?" My voice is shaky, worried that he might back down and send me to fight on my own.

He kisses my neck again. "Always. And whether you win or lose, I've got your side."

I relax a little in his arms. Liar that he is, I can hear in his voice -- I can almost feel it when he touches me -- that's he's being honest. Not only will he not abandon his queen that he took so much time and effort to win over, I doubt that if I do lose, he'll be very enthusiastic about being stuck with Leyna. He has to stand by me, or he's screwed.

One last breath and I'm ready. My hand almost itches to punch Leyna in her face -- my face really, but now I'm splitting hairs. All I know is that just beyond that door is the woman who nearly ruined my life and stole my husband. And she's going to pay for it.

Before Lucifer can give me a pep talk, I step out of his embrace and march towards the door. He follows right behind me, his wings flaring out as he prepares to either take my side in the fight or drag me out of harm's way.

I stop just in front of the door, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. Looking down, I can see a shadow moving around in the room, and I can hear my voice whispering softly. She's right there, barely a foot away from me on the other side of the door. She knew I was coming, but she's got no idea how close I am. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, clench my fist and grab the handle of the door.

A heartbeat later, it's wide open and for an instant, I'm staring at myself. My eyes are wide with shock, surprised to see my adversary so close, so soon. I take a few precious milliseconds to let Leyna adjust to the truth that, yes, I'm probably going to kill her, before I fire the first shot.

I come out swinging, throwing my fist into my face with as much force as I can muster. I connect perfectly, and my body stumbles back with a sharp cry. Leyna cradles my face in her hands, groaning in pain as I storm through the doors with my husband in tow. I've got a good head start, taking her by surprise and dealing out a good, solid punch. If I can just keep her confused and off guard, this should be easy.

Thankfully, Leyna's still too stunned to block my next two punches. I knock her back again and finally send her to the floor. A flashback of my father teaching me how to fight properly pops into my head, and I smile knowing that my dad did the best he could to take care of me.

Unfortunately, he also made sure I didn't punch like a girl, and the thought of seriously damaging my body crosses my mind. I could do some serious damage, even though I'm fighting for my life and my family. I need to be careful and direct my punches to less sensitive areas of her body. The last thing I want is to come out of this fight with my crown, my body and a concussion.

At this point, my adrenaline is roaring through me, and I suddenly don't care whether Lucifer will come to my rescue or not. I'm more concerned about getting my life back. If he can help me, that's fine. If not, I can handle myself.

I watch as Leyna regains her balance and hauls herself to her feet. The bruises that have started to flower on my face fade away quickly. I panic for a moment -- she may have my body, but her demonic soul is healing her faster that I would have guessed.

Maybe I won't end up with a smashed-up face after all...

I shake off my nerves and try to plan my attack. Leyna is glaring at me now -- it's strange to see my own body looking so angry when I'm not in control -- and she looks ready to tear my heart out. I'm not shaken by her obvious hatred. I'm too pissed to be scared of this whiney little home wrecker. Besides, her dad never taught her how to fight.

Screaming out her rage, Leyna charges at me, swinging wildly and trying to scare me off. I'm caught by surprise by her ferocity, but I manage to duck and doge out of the way and land another good smack to her face. She stumbles back again but keeps her balance, though I can see in her -- my -- eyes that she's surprised that I can fight back so well. I send her a caustic smile and take a defensive stance, wanting to end this as quickly as possible.

This time, I'm caught off guard. Still clearly possessing her demonic powers, Leyna charges at me quickly, moving so fast that she almost disappears for an instant before flickering back into view and landing a solid punch on my cheek. I'm sent flying across the room from her strength, luckily caught in the strong arms of my husband before I can smash into the marble wall. He steadies me, placing his hands on my shoulders so I can gain my balance again.

At this point, I silently thank that asshole that he calls his father for creating him. Without him, I may not walk away from this.

As my head clears, I see Leyna staring daggers at Lucifer. She's furious because he's siding with me. The idiot's forgotten that despite having my body, Leyna doesn't have my soul. Lucifer could never lover her. She's too cold, too selfish and too rotten to ever give him the TLC he needs. Even if she owned my body, my mind and my soul, she could never be me.

Stepping out of my husband's gentle embrace, the need to strangle this woman almost driving me nuts. I charge at her, giving another good shot to her face and sending her stumbling back. She groans a bit, but recovers and races toward me, missing my face with her fist but managing to scratch my face as a cheap shot.

I cry out, and stumble back, blocking another punch with one hand, while cradling my face with my other. She's scratched me hard enough draw blood, but it's not enough to do any real damage. I pull myself up and we both retreat to our corners, our chests heaving and out eyes watering from the flurry of blows we've taken.

Lucifer steps behind me and pulls me into his embrace, sweeping his wings around me to shield me in case psycho-bitch decides to take another free shot. The chill from his skin shock me awake a bit, forcing my nerves to respond and the gears in my head to start turning.

I stare at Leyna, confused, exhausted and annoyed. Neither of us is going to back down, no matter how many punches we throw. This punch-fest could go on for decades and we'd still be going at it. There's got to be another way to break her down and get my body back.

Maybe...

An idea clicks into my head, one so simple I almost burst out laughing. As much as I want to, I don't need to fight Leyna; I need to get my body back. If kissing me switched us the first time, maybe it will work again.

"Let me go," I whisper.

Lucifer tightens his grip on me. "Michelle."

"I have an idea." My voice is stronger than I feel.

He hesitates, but relents and releases me from his delicious hold. Straightening my spine, I storm over to Leyna, a deep, sarcastic smile plastered to my face. She sees me and bolts upright, her face twisting into a mask of rage. When I come within ten feet of her, she starts screaming at me and throwing wily, directionless punches. I bob and weave easily, making my way closer to her with every step.

Finally, I make it all the way through her gauntlet and come right up to her face, staring into my hate-filled eyes. She growls at me and throws one last punch. I dodge and make my own move, wrapping my hand around her neck and pulling her close. Taking one final breath and mentally crossing my fingers, I press my mouth to her.

The world goes black for an instant, and a bolt of lightening rips through me. I'm weightless for an instant, then incredibly heavy. I'm hit with another bolt of electricity, then I'm jerked backward out of the darkness and into a blinding white light...

I flick my eyes open, staring down at Leyna as my bearings start to roll back into place. I'm dizzy, but my senses slowly come back to me. I can hear my own ragged breathing, feel the beat of my heart in my chest, and feel the soft silk of my gown rubbing against my skin.

Curious, I look down to see that I'm dressed in my usual corset dress. My chest is bursting out as usual, and my own dark brown hair is tickling my shoulders. Looking up, I see Leyna staring up at me, her yellow eyes misty and unfocused, her cherry-red hair wild and unkempt.

YES!

Relief floods through me. I'm back! I've got my own body again! Finally! I almost break way from Leyna and start dancing. After all this fighting and arguing and tears, all it took was a simple kiss to set things straight. I nearly smack myself. Usually, I hate when things are this easy, but right now I'm too ecstatic to care. I've got my own body back and that's enough reason to celebrate.

Leyna's soft moan interrupts my internal celebration. My attention snaps to her, and I watch as she slowly recovers from our switch. Her eyes flicker as she adjusts to her new surrounding, widening when she sees me staring down at her. She gasps, snapping her head down to see herself dressed in her old clothes. She looks up at me, fear, anger and confusion in her eyes.