The Old King and the New Bride Ch. 05

"Michelle." His voice is low, threatening and deadly. "Come here."

I don't turn around, instead keeping my focus on the bed. "Fuck you."

Oh, goody. Our first major fight.

"Michelle," he warns again.

"Stop it," I hiss back. "I'm not in the mood."

"I don't give a fuck. Get back here."

I don't give a fuck either.

I make it to the bed, still furious. I flip the sheets back, hop into the cool bedding and yank them back up, rolling onto my side so I don't have to look at him. This is ridiculous – us fighting over sex and making ultimatums – but I've been through hell tonight and he doesn't seem to care. As hard as it is to admit, I can kind of see why God kicked him out of Heaven. He's gorgeous and intelligent and, at times, an amazingly loving person. But he's also got the attitude of a spoiled five-year-old mixed with an inch-long fuse. Not a good combination, and tonight I'm getting the full dose of Lucifer's tantrum.

I smash my head into the pillow and glare at the wall. There's silence on his side of the room, so I close my eyes and try to force myself to sleep. It's always easier for me to deal with situations like this after a nap – it gives me a chance to cool off and regroup my thoughts – so maybe we can talk this out like adults after we've have a moment to breathe.

I don't get my wish. My eyes still closed, I hear soft footsteps cross the room and stop at the edge of the bed. Seconds later, the sheets are pulled away and icy hands have grabbed my ankles. I cry out in surprise as I'm rolled onto my stomach and twisted so only my torso and head remain on the bed. My legs dangle over the sides, my feet barely able to graze the ground. Two loops of scorched black vines spring up from the floor and wrap around my wrists, pulling back so I'm held in place.

I panic and struggle against my restraints, fear replacing any anger I once had. I knew pissing him off wouldn't be the best idea, but I never thought he'd actually punish me.

"Lucifer!" I cry out, my voice filled with panic.

"You're queen now. It's time I taught you about respect." His voice is dark, almost malicious, tinged with an evil smile I never want to see.

A heartbeat later, the palm of his hand comes down on one side of my ass, smacking me hard enough to go beyond the normal sting. I cry out, both in surprise and pain. I realize now that telling him I hated pain was a mistake. It's ammunition he can use against me if I get too far out of control. Or, if I don't do what he wants, it's a tool he has to get me back in line.

A second smack, harder than the first, makes me cry out again. This isn't any playful punishment meant to tease me into submission. This is the real thing. He's pissed, and now he's got a way to take out his anger.

"Apologize," he growls.

Another smack, this time on the other side of my ass, catches me off guard before I can respond. My fingers dig into the sheets, still restrained by the vine-like restraints that hold them.

"I said apologize!"

Again, before I can speak, he rains down two more hard smacks, one for either cheek. These are even harder, closer to abuse than punishment. Tears start to prick at my eyes, and I do my best to formulate the words in my mouth.

"Damn it, Michelle! Say it!"

Another vicious smack causes my mind to short-circuit. I now realize his new game: he smacks me every time I try to say I'm sorry. In his fury-fueled mind, he doesn't actually want me to say it just yet. He wants to take out his frustration first, then we can start rebuilding out bond. He's probably so blinded by anger, he doesn't even realize how hard he's hitting me. Unfortunately, that doesn't make my situation any better, just more confusing.

I'm starting to cry at this point, burying my face into the sheets to muffle my sobs. This hurts, and I start to question if our marriage will truly ever work. He's got a much more volatile temper than I do, and I'm probably the most insubordinate woman who's ever caught his eye. If this happens every time I mouth off, I may have to do the unthinkable and seek out a lawyer. On the bright side, I'm in hell, so finding one here should be insanely easy.

"Say it!" He sends one more vicious smack and I break.

"I'M SORRY!" I scream it into the air loud enough that people in Scotland are probably wondering who was yelling.

I sink back into the bed, sobbing into the sheets. My ass is on fire from his brutal punishment, and I wonder if I'll even be able to sit down in the morning. I hear a sharp intake of breath and watch as the vines that had held me down free my hands and retreat into the floor. Released from my restraints, I roll onto my side and curl into a tight ball, still crying out my pain and fear.

The bed dips beside me and Lucifer's cold hand reaches out to stroke my shoulder. I flinch away involuntarily, still frightened that this might just be another series of tortures he's been waiting to dish out. Instead, his hand travels south, sliding around my waist and gently pulling me against him. When my shoulder blades touch his chiseled chest, his night-black wing swoops over and cloaks me in darkness again. The soft feathers tickle my skin, and his cool lips press into my hair.

"Oh, Michelle," he whispers, his voice hollow and cracking. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just so angry that you didn't give me a chance to explain."

Well, dumbass. Did you learn your lesson?

I stay quiet, softly crying out the last of my tears. I know he never meant to harm me, but he did. I still love him with all my heart, but I've learned not to allow myself to be so angry at him. Walking away probably fired up his old fear of being abandoned, and my attitude probably set off his microscopic fuse because he thought I was challenging him. Stupid me. Justified, but stupid.

Wiping away any residual tears, I suck in a sharp breath and try to face him. "I'm sorry."

He hugs me tighter, burying his face in my hair and stroking my arms. "No, no, no, Michelle. I'm sorry. I should have never lost myself like that. I should have walked away like you did. I'm so sorry, Michelle. I just...you didn't deserve that. You never deserve anything like that. This was my fault. All my fault."

Warm tears seep into my hair, calming my broken heart slightly. I sigh quietly in relief. He does care, and he does regret going after me like that. He just lost control, the fear and the anger overriding his reason and love.

"Forgive me," he pleads. "Please."

I nod, my heart mending itself quicker than expected. "Yes."

"Thank God," he whispers. "I swear to you on whatever soul I have left, I will never harm you again. I swear it."

I manage a small smile. "I promise. No more ultimatums."

He laughs into my hair, a sign of mutual relief and forgiveness. My heart has finally healed itself, allowing me to take a cleansing breath of sweet calmness. It's been one hell of a night – Leyna, Michael, this fight – but we've survived. I'm back home with my husband, Leyna and Michael are both gone, and the two of us have recovered from our first vicious fight. All in all, a successful day.

Still lying in his arms, the chill of Lucifer's hands starts to rev my body up once again. That bonfire is back again, and my skin itches for a different type of sex: I want it slow and steady, something that will set me alight without breaking every bone I have. I want him again, a sure sign that I'm back to normal.

"I know how you can make this up to me..." I whisper into the soft sheets.

He feverishly begins to kiss my hair. "Yes, yes, of course! Anything."

I smother my tiny laugh and gently take his cold hand in mine. I lead him down to my thighs, twisting his arm so his fingers slide between my legs and brush against my sex. It's just enough to make me twitch in yearning, and thankfully Lucifer is more than ready to play nice. He laughs into my hair again and takes the reigns, pressing his middle finger hard against my clit and spinning it delicious circles. I moan and close my eyes, savoring both the wonderful feeling of finally finding relief and of having my playful, loving husband back once more.

I shiver against him, savoring the feeling of his finger twisting in and around my sex. His free hand reaches up to fondle my breast, making me bite my lip and arch my back. A hear another soft laugh and feel his cold hands start to work harder, his palm chilling my nipple to a solid point and two finger dipping inside my pussy. I moan softly and burying my face in the sheets and whispering his name. After his rough punishment, he's hell bent of proving himself to be a caring, dutiful lover again.

Honestly, he's doing a great job proving his point.

"More," I whisper. "Please more."

"As you wish."

His hands leave my skin for an instant, leaving me empty and begging for his comfort. His icy fingers return to my skin, gripping my hip to roll me over onto my stomach. I go willingly, anxiously waiting for him to render me breathless like he always does. He shift, kneeling behind me and grabbing my ass to pull me up and back, setting me in the same position that he'd used to claim my virginity.

I'm nearly shaking out of excitement. He'd taken me this way on our wedding night, and it was fantastic. When he brushes against my ass, I can barely keep myself from screaming out my joy and rubbing against him. His cock brushes my thigh, ice cold and solid as granite. I bit my lip and anticipation. I lean back slightly, begging him silently to give me more, to tear me to pieces like I've been craving all night. He doesn't disappoint, laughing softly and pressing the tip of his cock against my sex, heartbeats away from ravaging me.

Something in my head clicks, snapping me out of my lust-fueled haze and turning the thinking part of my brain back on. My need is still bordering on desperation, but my body and my mind both want something more than just the basics I know. I want something different, something I'd never normally do.

"Wait," I plead, just in time to prevent him from bucking his hips and driving into me.

He stills, his hands lightly resting on my hips. "What?" His voice is soft, concerned that he may have done something wrong or that I'm having second thoughts.

Truthfully, I am, but only in the way I want to do this. After that round of spanking, I'm craving my chance to be in control, to watch him squirm. I inch away and roll over onto my back, staring up at him with desire-hazy eyes as he watches my in inquisitive confusion. I smile and wrap my legs around his waist, pulling our bodies flush together even though we're still two separate beings for now.

With my legs locking me to him, I simultaneously arch my back forward and press my feet against the small of his back. The weight shift is enough to throw him off balance and he tumbles backward, falling into the bed as I'm hauled forward. I end up kneeling over him, straddling his hips and grinning down at him like a lunatic.

Ha! It worked!

He blinks up at me twice before a sly smile breaks onto his lips. His hands reach out and gently grip my hips, tracing my curves while holding me in place. I smile to myself and rise up enough to reach down and grab his cock in my hand. I help aim his body and ease myself down, savoring the sensation of him inside me again. This new position is wonderful, offering an entirely different way of feeling him as he slips inside. I close my eyes and bite my lip as I finally take the last inch of him inside me, settling down until my ass brushes against his thighs.

I flick my eyes to his, watching his expression change from elated to fiery to expectant. He knows what I want – to have a tiny bit of control and to find my own pleasure - and he's more than willing to oblige. I lean forward and kiss him, jumping at the sensations of him rubbing me in completely new ways. I pull back a bit and smirk down at him, watching the flickers of lust dance in his eyes.

"My turn," I whisper. "I'm going to ride you like a stallion."

He grins back, happier than a kid in a candy store. "Ride away, cowgirl. Show me what you've got."

I can't help my own smile. At last, some good, quality sexy-time with my husband. I brace my hands on his chest and push myself up. The movement makes his cock shift around inside of me, and I shiver. Damn it, that feels good! How I'm able to go an hour without dragging him into bed is a mystery.

Sitting back, I suddenly frown and stare at his sculpted chest. I've never ridden anything before, so I have no idea what I'm doing. My surprise may have been ballsy, but it's also screwed me into a corner. I stare at his golden flesh for a few more seconds until I finally close my eyes and give my mind a quick shake.

Best guess, I suppose.

Taking a deep breath, I rock my hips forward towards his chest, feeling his body brush against mine in a million different places. The action makes me quiver with delight, and I let out a shaky breath as I try to stabilize myself. I've figured out what to do; now I just need to find my rhythm. I sway backwards, feeling his cock move inside me again. Holy shit, this is fantastic! Even at a slow pace, I could get addicted to this.

Having figure out exactly what needed to be done, I start to rock my hips back and forth, finding a slow but steady rhythm that makes me groan and dig my nails into his chest. Lucifer reacts below me, moaning my name and closing his eyes as his back arches off the bed. I grin down at him like a fool despite my own rushes of pleasure. It's a small relief to finally have a few ounces of control. Not enough to dangle over him as a way to assert my tiny amount of authority, but it's enough to make me relax and show him that I'm strong in my own right.

If he'll tie me down and spank me on a bed, then I'll bring him to his knees.

I toss my head back and close my eyes, letting my thoughts and rationality fly out the window. I'm tired, rattled and still a little upset – I'm ready to let loose and grab the bull by the horns. I'll worry about what happens to Lilith later. For right now, my body is craving release, and I'll be damned if that piece of shit will get in the way of me fucking my husband.

On instinct – and with my body screaming for more – I rock my hips faster, making small flickers of lightening race up my spine. It's wonderful, but I'm craving more. Taking a chance, I lean forward an inch, pressing the edge of my pussy against the base of Lucifer's cock. His flesh rubs against my clit, and I gasp in delicious surprise. It's the perfect amount of pressure, and exactly what I needed to wipe my mind clean of any stray Lilith thoughts.

My mind reeling, I barely register my husband's deep, resonating laugh. By the time my brain has recognized that he's laughing at me, his hands have already left my hips and are slowly working their way up my back. They press down slightly, slowly pulling me down against him. I push against his chest, tying to force myself back up, but his grip holds me down. I look up at him, his golden eyes shining in the light of the glow of the hellfire below us.

"Come here," he croons to me. "You've made your point. Now relax and let me take over."

I'm hesitant, bracing myself against his chest while my stomach brushes against his. My mind and body are warring inside my head, each trying to push the other's opinion aside and come out the victor. My mind wants me to reject his idea and continue riding him myself so I can solidify my stance as his queen and, more importantly, his equal. My body is begging me to collapse into his arms so Lucifer can take control and bring me to his usual mind-blowing climax.

Decisions, decisions...

Lucifer rolls his eyes and gives a soft chuckle before pressing his hands against my shoulder blades and pulling me down. My hands seem to melt away and I'm pulled flush against him, my chest being crushed against his. He rolls his head to the side so I can nestle my cheek against his shoulder, and I fall into my childlike self as I nuzzle his cool skin. He laughs in my ear as his hands slide down my back to my thighs. The grip my legs and pull them forward, forcing me into a semi-hunched position with my torso flush against his and my legs pressing against the sides of his waist.

Lucifer presses his icy lips against my neck, making me shiver at the contact. "Hold tight," he whispers against my skin.

Onto what, exactly?

I don't have time to ask. He bucks his hips upwards, driving his cock deep inside me with deadly precision. Unbeknownst to me, he'd pick this particular position not because it was a good transition from my earlier plan, but because it allowed him to grind against my clit and my sweet spot simultaneously. His motion renders me speechless, the pressure against both points nearly making my head explode. I let out a soft whimper and collapse against his chest, my bones melting under my skin.

He laughs in my ear again. "There we go. That's not so bad now, is it?"

He slams into me again, making me moan into his shoulder and grip the sheets hard enough to crack my knuckles. It's great, fantastic actually, and my body has no intention of letting this feeling pass. Involuntarily, my body clamps down on him, trapping him inside me so he can continue his delicious teasing.

Thankfully, he never stops. He resumes thrusting into me, the pressure making my head spin and my toes curl. His pace is achingly slow, but worth the wait. He gives me just enough time between bursts of pleasure to try to collect my thoughts, then slams into me again and destroys any progress I've made. It's meticulous, well-planned and debilitating. God, he's good.

His aim and determination render any rebellion on my part useless. I end up splayed out on his chest, my face buried against his neck as he continues to slowly but surely thrust into me. I whimper at every shove of his hips, my throat unable to allow anymore sound than a strangled gasp. He continues to laugh in my ear, reveling in his ability to take me from zero to sixty in half a second.

"Stop." I barely manage to whisper the word, my mind beyond hazy and my body on fire.

He freezes, giving my mind a desperately-needed moment of relief. I can think – and breathe correctly – again. I relax slightly, coming down off the high he'd created for me. My body is screaming at me, wondering why I would dare ask for him to stop that delicious pleasure, but I need to think. I need to breathe.

"Michelle," his hands tighten around me as he whispers my name.

I catch my breath and swallow, clearing my throat. "Please stop. No more teasing. I can't..."

He chuckles again and crushes me against his chest, immobilizing me. "Ah, I see. I'm driving you mad."

Yes, damn it. Now stop fucking around and finish me off!

"Alright. I'll let you go."

Still pinning me against him, he bucks his hips hard against me, forcing a ragged cry from my throat. A stick of dynamite has gone off inside me, and I collapse against his chest again. He goes for gold this time, thrusting into me with the same amount of power but with far more speed. He's relentless, wanting to see me lose control like I always do.

"Dear sweet God," I whisper the words, my mind slowly melting away as my body takes the reigns.

"Not quite," he whispers back. "I can lift you far higher."

He redoubles his efforts, slamming into me with the speed and force of a category five hurricane. I scream into his shoulder, the pressure building inside of me becoming too much to bear. Before I can prepare myself, my body erupts in a shower of sparks and gold. I scream again, digging my hands into the sheets as my body tenses and spasms involuntarily. Flames race up my spine as I collapse into him, my breathing ragged and my heart going fast enough to alert the CHP.