The Angel and Her Demon

Chapter 2 - Just a Dream

Sky's Perspective

The demoness perches on the block. It never ceases to amaze me how the environment is pure color, a fantastic assortment of purples, pinks, reds, yellows, and oranges all mixing together perfectly in a way that makes every angle of her auburn hair look uniquely stunning. The demoness gently tilts my chin away from the scene and back towards her.

"Darling angel," she says softly. "You do get so distracted by pretty things."

"Right now the only thing that's distracting me is you."

She chuckles at my response.

I find myself struggling to look away from her black eyes. They are sinkholes themselves, drawing in everything that is dear and threatening to make them vanish in a second, but oh would I give anything to disappear into her eyes ― to disappear into her. Horns sprout from out of her gorgeous copper hair, twisting and growing pointy at the end. From behind her lovely, tight leather top and perfectly fitted pants, a red tail whips around eagerly. Occasionally it thrashes against the block she perches on, emitting a sound like that of a belt on a table, a noise that undoubtedly stirs something inside me. Her own eyes wander to my white, muse-like but dressy, short toga and blinding, feathered wings that almost seem to emanate pure white light themselves. I watch as she licks her lips, her eyes trailing down the wings, noting how every feather is perfectly in place before finally taking in my facial features. Personally, my eyes are now glued to her ruby lips. She smiles slightly, perfectly pleased by the sight of me. I can't help but beam back, feeling just as euphoric myself.

"So," I ask nonchalantly, "Do you come here often, demon?"

Cheesy.

"I'd come every day just to see you." Her breath smells like blood and iron, but so impossibly sweet like roses. She leans down closer as she whispers, "And yes, I do mean that in a s****l way too."

"Dirty," I scold.

She bites back with a teasing song-like voice. "Demon."

I'm about to laugh when her grip on my chin tightens, her gloved hand securing her hold over me, making sure my head is under her control. She attempts to pull my head forward. I grab her hand, ripping it off of my face instantly and holding it up beside me. Her lips part in shock. Her fingers twitch under my hold before falling still.

Her brows furrow as a perplexed, yet apologetic expression crosses her face. "I'm sorry, was that not okay―"

I pull on her hand, cutting her off and forcing her to lean forward. I let my lips brush against hers. She falls deathly quiet.

"Don't think that, just because you're the devil, you're the one in control," I whisper firmly. She swallows. "I may be an angel, but I'm no saint. Do you understand?"

The demon nods. Deep in those dark eyes she has I think I see a flame of excitement getting stoked.

"Lie down," I command her.

She grins to herself and lies down without hesitation. Her arms spread out as she gazes up at me, leaving herself entirely in the open for me. Her face is lit with eagerness now, so much so that she can't keep herself from positioning her legs in a way that gives me a clear look at the very spot I so desperately want to touch. But not yet. She'll have to wait just a little bit longer. There's something else I've been meaning to do first.

I climb on top of the block and put my knees at her sides so I'm straddling her stomach. I lean over her head. She doesn't bother hiding her glance down at my chest, her breath hitching at the sight of bare flesh exposed even despite my angelic outfit. I smile as she slowly drags her gaze back up to me, her lips so brilliantly red and shimmering still parted in awe. I lean down further and kiss her.

She kisses back, and her lips are just as sweet as I imagined they'd be. She reaches her hands up to grab my back, the base of my wings, and pull me in even closer. A rush of pleasure rolls throughout my body. I'm so caught up in the feeling of her that I can't tell which of us is making which sounds anymore, but all I know is we are not quiet. Her hands explore my back before moving lower to my thighs as I kiss her deeply, passionately, with the firepower of whatever god may be out there, with every essence of angelic grace being channeled into my lips and tongue ― god the feel of her tongue ― and I don't stop until I feel her hands drift higher up my thigh and slip under my toga.

I pull away. The demoness, the perfect embodiment of all that is filthy and cruel, lets out a moan in disappointment. I let out a light chuckle as I move off of her. "Don't worry, love, I'm not finished. You just need to understand that you're not going to be doing anything. I'm the one in control here. I'll be the one making you melt under my fingertips. Think you can handle that?"

A smile plays on her lips. She nods. Her red hair sprawls across the ground.

I force her legs apart, placing my knees in between them. Her tail whips around frantically, excitedly. I unzip her pants. She lets out a heavenly sound for a demon and I realize she doesn't have underwear on. The sight is just as I imagined she'd look. I lick my lips, moving my hand with precision, letting my fingers start their work. At just the slightest first touch, she tenses and lets out a shaky, pleased moan. I press down harder―

I wake up before I can hear whatever sound she was going to make next.

Believe me, I'm internally screaming.

― ― ― ― ―

It's hard to focus on classes when that scene keeps replaying in my head. Even when professors are lecturing and I'm taking notes, all I can think about is her scarlet hair, those eyes as black as raven's feathers, and the way she had followed my every command without hesitation. I let out a shaky breath just thinking about it. The power she let me have over her... Dream-me was right, I am no saint. If I could have had five more minutes of sleep, who knows what would have happened?

I sit in Astrology class, waiting patiently in the back as fellow college students start entering the room. My hands fly through my notebook, gazing at all the sketches I've made over the past few weeks. Yes, these dreams started off happening once a week, but now, it's like they've taken over my subconscious and are all that I can think about. None of them ever got as far as last night. In fact, that was the first time I ever fully experienced a kiss in my dreams, and I never had a clear shot of what she looked like or even what I looked like until now too.

I continue examining the drawings. I should make some new sketches ― so I won't forget, of course, not because I'm still turned on or anything like that.

Someone sits down next to me. Strange. Normally I sit alone. I barely spare a glance at them before returning to my notebook to start a new drawing.

Wait.

I freeze, shakily taking another glance at the person sitting next to me.

Red. Long red, cherry hair...

Exactly like in my dream, sitting next to me.