The Old King and the New Bride Ch. 01

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"Spin."

I turn quickly, aiming my eye s down to the floor. I can't look at him while I'm standing here half naked.

Smiling at me, he sighs quietly. "Oh, Michelle. How lovely you are."

He traces my collarbone with one long finger, making me shiver.

"And so responsive." He grins.

His icy hands move down to my breasts. He cups them in his palms, making my breath hitch. I don't want to feel it, but tiny sparks of pleasure radiate out from my nipples when he pressed his thumbs against them. I understand why he's call the great Tempter and the Wicked One. He's definitely tempting and extremely dark. I have to hold my breath for a moment to regain my senses.

I stare at his hands, watching as he rolls and molds my breasts with his icy fingers. As big as his hands are, they're not quite able to fully contain my chest. It's the one thing my mother's blessed me with. They're not ridiculously huge, but enough to make me the center of attention with guys when I got out with friends. They're the center of my self-esteem, and I take pride in making sure they look damn good.

I watch his smile widen as he explores my body. "So warm and soft. For a human, you're impressive."

I bite my lip, fighting a growing ache in my belly that begs me to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him again.

His eyes meet mine again, shining with wicked delight. "I have something for you."

Oh, shit.

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, still grinning at me. He pulls his hand out, holding his fist palm up. Every scenario is running though my mind of what he has in his hand: a whip, a snake, a spider, a swarm of bees. I'm terrified to find out what he's got, but too curious to look away.

His palm opens, revealing not a swarm of hornets but a necklace. The chain is slender and as black as his wings. Small carved gems of red, black and cobalt extend downward, gradually growing in size until they reach the center. There, a breathtaking ruby, exquisitely carved in the image of a peacock, shines in the sunlight. It's incredible.

Oh. Oh, my God.

"It's lovely," I whisper. I'm lying; it's beyond beautiful.

His smile widens another inch. "Spin," he commands again.

I turn quickly, still mesmerized by that superb piece of jewelry. I watch as he brings the necklace around to my throat. The ruby hangs just about my cleavage, the smaller jewels glinting in the light. The metal is cool against my skin as he fastens it behinds my neck.

"One of the crown jewels of my kingdom," he whispers into my ear.

I raise my hand to my neck, racing the carving with my fingers. "Where did you get this?"

"Payment owed to me by Louis XVI. He wanted that little Austrian girl to solidify his status as king. There. Let me see."

I turn again, facing him head-on. Strangely, with this necklace, I feel strong and proud. I feel respected, loved and cherished. I feel safe, warm and admired. I'm beginning to feel like a queen.

He smiles again. "It's perfect."

He leans in and kisses me a second time, and for a second time, I feel out of control and overwhelmed. I fight the urge to throw him onto the seat and straddle him. Taking a deep breath, I let the kiss go on, allowing myself to enjoy the intimacy we now share. I know for him, using this much restraint must be torture.

He pulls away and smiles, brushing my cheek with his fingers. "Never take that off."

I shake my head staring into to his impossible eyes.

No. Never. I promise.

I hear the screeching of car tires, the shattering of glass and the crunching of metal. The racket startles me out of his hypnotic trance and I peer through the curtains to see what happened. There's a six-car pileup just outside our carriage, with nearly every car totaled. The drivers of the cars stand in the street, staring wide-eyes and fearful as they watch our carriage pass by.

So they can see us.

He reaches down to grip the front pieces of my dress, never even flinching at the commotion outside. I'm not surprised that he doesn't seem to notice. Destruction and chaos must follow him wherever he goes.

He lifts the front pieces of my dress, reaching around my neck to put me back together.

"I'd love to keep this open, believe me," he smiles, "But I don't think that would be appropriate for the reception."

I nod. Even with me now being married to Lucifer, my mother would have a fit if I came out half-naked. For someone who's willing to sell off her own daughter to the Devil himself, she's surprisingly prudish.

He finishes buttoning my dress, adjusting it so it lays flat against my skin. The blood-red gleam of the ruby sits right in the middle of the front slit, shining through the sea of whit and black like a beacon. A beacon of doom, I suppose.

Still smiling at me, he retreats to the other side of the carriage, falling back onto the soft cushions of the seats. I stare at him, unsure of what he's planning. I twist and untwist my fingers nervously, waiting for his next move.

He crooks his finger at me, calling me forward. I hesitate, trying to figure out what he's thinking. He pats his thigh, motioning for me to sit. I nod and step towards him, my heart racing again. I can't begin to imagine what he wants: my poor mind can't get that dark.

I finally reach him, staring into his warm, bright eyes. He pats his thigh again, his smile never wavering. Swallowing, I gather the hem of my dress and turn so I sit in his lap. I feel like I'm five again and waiting for my father to tell me another one of his fantastic stories. Only, it's not my father I'm staring at.

He reaches up with one cold hand, his thumb tracing the curve of my bottom lip. I watch his eyes light up as an idea comes to his mind, making my guts twist. Oh, no. this is going to be bad.

"You have a beautiful mouth, Michelle," he purrs.

I inhale sharply. Something inside me stirs, knowing exactly where this conversation is going.

"I'd love to see it go to work." His smile widens, the spark in his eyes now a full blown bonfire.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no...

He traces the carved ruby of my necklace. "I've given you a lovely present, no? I think it's only fair that I get something in return for my generosity."

Fuck.

My heart drops and my stomach completes a triple axel. Nothing about Lucifer comes without a catch. I know what he wants. What sane man would turn down a free blowjob? And if that man was Lucifer? Double fuck. I sigh inside myself, convinced yet again that it's better to go with the flow than fight him.

"What do you think, Michelle?" he asks, mocking me.

I sulk for a minute, cursing my mother once again. Damn her for setting me up like this. No doubt she knew he'd milk my insecurities for all they're worth, yet she never warned me about how depraved he could get. I swear, once we get to the reception I'm going to dunk her head in the punch bowl.

"I suppose it's a good thing I had a few boyfriends in high school," I mutter.

I blush and stare at the ground. What possessed me to say that?

His brows rise and inch. "So you've had experience, then?"

Nice move, genius. You've screwed yourself now.

"And how experienced are you?" He leans forward a bit, staring at me with interest. What's this? I've caught his curiosity.

I shrug, still mortified by my mindless confession. "Not too much. I'm no porn star, but I've...practiced."

Stop! Stop!

His eyes are on fire now. "Have you? Care to demonstrate?"

I stare at him, horrified, then sigh. I dismiss the idea of saying no, standing up and leaping out of the carriage. I'd love to toss myself out the window, duck and roll down the street, then take off running for home.

As if I'd even get that far.

I chew my lip for a moment, considering my options. I'm fairly talented when it comes to sucking men, and Lucifer is someone who loves to make deals. I could use this to my advantage if I play it right.

"Would it mean I get a few hours of reprieve?" God, I hope this works.

He cocks his head to one side, pursing his lips slightly. "Meaning what?"

"Well..." I start off easy, hoping I don't piss him off. "Say I'm not quite ready to consummate our...marriage. If I sucked you off, could I get a few hours to myself so I can adjust?"

He closes his eyes and laughs to himself, shaking his head. "Using sex to bargain with me. You're clever to try, I'll give you that." He opens his eyes again, smiling at me. "If that's what it takes, then yes. Prove to me you're as good as you say you are and I'll give you the night off."

My heart leaps for an instant, then my cautiousness kicks in. He is the master of lies and deals, after all. He could just be saying that to get me to blow him.

I narrow my eyes at him. "How do I know you're not luring to me?"

He scoffs, placing his hand across his chest. "Ye of little faith in me!"

Damn straight. I know better.

He shakes his head again. "Michelle, I have no reason to lie to you. You're my wife now. If I wanted to, legally I could just toss you over this bench now and fuck you like a madman. But I don't. I know that going from an innocent college girl to a queen isn't an easy task to achieve."

I nod. How true that is. Giving up my family and friends will be something I'll have to adjust to. I'll never sleep in my own bed again, or have my favorite books with me. That said, at least I'll get to skip my exams and have some freedom from my mother. Okay, so maybe not everything about this will be bad.

"Believe me, I'll give you sufficient time to adjust to your new life with me. But if having our first night off will make things easier for you, then fine." His smile is softer, more sincere than hungry.

A manage to force a smile. "Thanks."

"So we have a deal, then?" He strokes my fingers.

I nod. Indeed we do.

"Good."

He shifts in his seat, forcing me out of his lap. Reaching down, her grips the zipper of his jeans and starts to pull it down.

Why waste any time? We have valuable bj's to give.

As he unbuttons his pants, I try to think of the best way to do this. I'm still fully dressed in a gown that could easily get torn or destroyed if I move the wrong way. I reach down and gather the skirts of my dress and settle awkwardly down to my knees. The carpet under me is soft and lush, made of the same rich velvet as the carpet in the church. No expense was left out for this affair.

He finishes undoing his pants and smiles down at me. "Ready?"

Do I have a choice?

"It's quite a prize you're going to swallow."

Oh boy.

I nod regardless. I have a night to myself riding on my performance.

Ne nods back at me and opens the fly of his pants. Commando, I should have known. His erection springs forth in an instant, tall and proud and ready to go. It's thicker than I'm used to, and points straight to the sky. The flesh is a pale golden tan with thick veins criss-crossing up and down the length. I notice that the veins are black, not blue, which means even his blood isn't normal.

Despite the intimidating thickness and the odd colored veins, it's a stunning piece of anatomy. Michelangelo should have carved his man David with this instead.

"Come on, Michelle," he croons. "You said you were experienced. Prove it."

Oh, a challenge, is it? I scowl slightly in annoyance. He wants me to prove myself. Unfortunately, that's brought my competitive spirit roaring to the surface. Usually, I don't get cutthroat unless it's a dire situation where I have to defend myself or beat mom at a board game. But giving blowjobs is an arena I've fought in before, and I tend to come out the victor. He wants mind-blowing? Then I'll give him mind-blowing.

I suck in one last rational breath before plunging into the masterpiece that is, regrettably, Lucifer. I reach out and caress it lightly, running my fingers over the smooth flesh. It's as cold as the rest of his body, but sturdy as steel. I grip him gently and stroke his length, getting a feel for the task I'm about to take on. My hand barely fits around his girth, and I briefly wonder if I'll even be able to take him.

Yes, you can. Show him what you've got.

My mental pep rally has me fired up. Keeping my hand on him so I can aim better, I lean forward and force his cock into my mouth. I've decided to skip foreplay; I want to prove to him that I'm good enough to bring him to his knees. I swallow him, forcing him as far back as I can. He tastes of honey and cinnamon and campfire smoke and thousand other flavors.

"Holy fuck!"

His temporary loss of control excites me. I've already shocked him a bit. If I can score a perfect ten on this, I'm home free.

I keep my grip on him to hold him still. The last thing I need is to have him flying around when I'm trying to score a bit of freedom.

I start slow, moving up and down at an easy, languorous pace that will relax him. I need him comfortable if I'm going to win this fight. It works, and his hips slide forward as he settles into his seat. I keep up the gentle tempo, wanting to make sure he's well settled before I take him for a spin.

He groans, and his hands reach down to caress my hair. He pulls out a few of my hair pins, letting a handful of strands tumble down to my shoulders. He laces his fingers in my now loosened hair, giving him something to hold onto as I suck him off.

Good. Let's take him for a ride.

I reach down with my free hand and start stroking his balls through the soft denim of his jeans. His body jerks at the contact, and I smile inside knowing I can make him twitch.

Atta girl! Teach him to challenge you!

I pick up the pace a bit, wrenching another groan from his throat. I cup his balls in my hand, molding and rubbing them through his jeans. What's wrong with him? This is way too easy. He's acting like he's never had a blowjob before. I feel like I'm being tested, as if this is just the preliminary round so he can see how much training I need.

The thought annoys me. I don't like being quizzed on a moment's notice. It makes my uncomfortable and irritated. Still, a small part of me wants to know I've got the skill to please the Devil himself, so I keep up the pace and rise to the challenge.

Taking a tiny risk, I gently scrape my teeth along his cock as I pull up. He inhales sharply, and his fingers twist almost painfully in my hair. I keep the pace, wanting to hear him lose control. It's payback time for his little games, and I'm going after everything he's got.

He barks out a laugh. "I apologize for ever doubting you." He strokes my hair. "You can stop now."

Oh no, darling. You're mine, now.

I quicken my pace again, pulling back so I suck on the hard tip. He groans again and twists his fingers into my hair. He tries to pull me off, much to my utter shock, but I give his balls a quick, hard squeeze and he releases me.

"Michelle, stop!" he begs.

Lucifer? Begging me? To stop? What kind of messed-up Twilight Zone did I fall into?

I disregard his plea and continue on towards my goal. He's not going to stop me from winning this. Regrettably, this challenge is also allowing me to blow off a little steam. I'm still pissed at my mother for tossing me into this mess, and taking it out on Lucifer's cock seems the least damaging way to get back at her. For now, he's taken my mother's place as I deal out my punishment.

"I said stop!" He digs his fingers into my scalp. "You've earned your freedom for the night. I don't want to come until I've got you splayed out in my bed."

Oh. That's why he wants me to stop?

I regain my control and pull myself free of his grip. I let his balls go and sit back on the floor. A small, mischievous smile adorns my face. I've proved my point and beaten him at his little challenge. Game, set, match.

I look up to see my husband laid out on the seat of the coach. The lower half of his body hangs completely off the cushion, and for a moment I'm afraid he'll fall. His chest rises and falls rapidly; his eyes are closed and his lips parted as he sucks in quick breaths.

After a brief silence, he manages to catch himself. He starts to laugh again, throwing his head back as he fastens his pants.

"Oh! My Michelle!" he barks out a sharp laugh. "If I've ever made a mistake in this deal, it was doubting you." He reaches out and strokes my cheek with his fingers as he smiles at me with those gorgeous eyes. "You did very well."

I lift my chin an inch and smile proudly. I've just give Satan himself one of the best blowjobs of his immortal life. I mentally pat myself on the back. I've proved myself tonight.

His smile falters a bit. "Oh, dear. I've ruined your hair, haven't I?"

I look down to notice thick locks of my hair curling down around my breasts. He's pulled out a good number of my hair pins, and now my elegant up-do is falling apart.

He sits up and sighs. "Well, we certainly can't have that. They'll know we were up to something."

He beckons me to stand. I follow orders, still a bit giddy that I've pleased him. Michelle Rebecca Harlowe: The Tamer of Lucifer's Libido. Yes, that's a perfect moniker for me. I'll request for that to be carved on my gravestone so people can know just how awesome I was tonight.

He stands to face me, picking up a lock of my hair and twisting it through his fingers. "How will we remedy this?"

I shrug. "To be honest, I actually prefer it down."

He pauses for a moment, considering my suggestion. He moves suddenly, slowly pulling out each hair pin that's been jammed into my scalp. More chunks of my hair tumble down, until he removes the last pin and there's nothing adorning my head. He takes a step back, cocking his head to the side as he inspects me.

A soft smile plays on his lips. "Yes, I like that."

I smile back. I've played his game well and came out alive and on top. Not bad for a nineteen-year-old human girl. I'd say I deserved a trophy.

I suppose being a trophy wife will have to do.

"Sire!" Tarioc's voice deep resounds through the carriage, startling me. "We're almost there."

Lucifer nods. He smiles at me again, adjusting my hair so that I look as acceptable as possible.

"We wouldn't want your mother finding out, would we?" He winks.

I mull the though around in my head. Would I really care if mom found out? After all this, not really. At the moment, I'm too proud of myself to give a damn about what she thinks. She can't keep her end of the bargain, but I can make Lucifer beg.

Take that, mother.

The carriage slowly grinds to a halt as we pull up to the magical place Lucifer has picked for our reception. My mind flits between hoping for a bright, sunny field filled with flowers, and knowing he's probably picked something much darker and less cheerful. Out of caution, I prepare myself toe the worst case scenario.

I can hear the sounds of numerous hoof beats outside as the rest of our party closes in behind us. Lucifer steps toward the door, beckoning me to follow. The door opens and I watch as Tarioc steps aside as he waits for us to exit. Lucifer steps down first, the turns to me and holds out his hand so I have some balance. I step carefully down out of the carriage and into the warm sunlight.

The reception area that's been chosen is a mixture of both my worst fears and a lovely setting. The graveyard is enormous, with lush, grass knolls of the countryside spreading out for miles. The headstones themselves are made of carved white marble and free of vines or weeds. Someone cares for this place.

There's a long table set out on one of the grassy mounds. It's covered in rich, dark cloth and has every kind of food imaginable laid out on its surface. There are dozens of large shady trees to sit under, and for some reason a bevy of songbirds has come out to serenade us.