Hell's Future Princess

Chapter 3

*Shae PoV*

I woke screaming, pushing at the sheets I was entangled in. Tried as I might, but I couldn't escape them. It only made my panic that much worse as I screamed louder. I heard a voice attempting to break through, along with hands trying to grab me, but that only made it worse. I kicked, screamed, and bit until I finally launched myself off the bed.

“GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU SICK F*CK, I WON'T LET YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN!” I screamed as I crawled backward. I shoved against the wall, still struggling to get out of the sheets as I cried hysterically.

“Shae, calm down. It's just me,” a firm voice said. “He's not here. He's not going to hurt you. Even if he were, I would personally ensure he received the worst punishments imaginable. One day, he will arrive, and he will suffer.”

The words slowly began to get to me, and my breathing slowed. I looked up at the brooding but beautiful face of the demon I went to bed with. He knelt in front of me, waiting for me to calm down so he could attempt to console me. When the tears began to flow freely down my cheeks, he knew I was ready. His powerful arms leaned forward as he stripped the sheets away from my pale, naked form before casting them aside. He reached for me, and I dove into his arms, sobbing into his warm brown, bare chest.

He rubbed my back and wings gently, whispering that everything would be okay. I shivered against him, both from the cold and my breakdown, and he gently lifted me. He carried me back to his large bed, and climbed into it without putting me down so I could curl against him. He covered us with the blanket, and a sigh brushed my soft, black locks as he lay his chin atop my head. So, shocking as it was, the dark prince of Hell was one of the few beings that could calm me when I lost my sh*t. Despite being extremely distant with me when I was first cast into Hell, Azazel eventually warmed up to me. I guess I grew on him after Lucifer had forced us together in numerous tasks to get his son to talk to me.

It had been 2 years since he'd won me over that day in the pit, and so far, I hadn't regretted my decision. We both knew it was his father's doing, but there had been a lot of undeniable chemistry between us. It was something most women pushed his way never had, so it left the king of Hell optimistic that he had finally found a mate for his oldest son. Not that we would consider one another mates by any means, yet. More like... really good friends with fantastic benefits.

We normally weren't too affectionate with one another. Right now was different because I was having a meltdown, but nothing was touchy-feely about my relationship with Hell's Prince. It was usually very violent, as he allowed me to beat, bite, scratch, whip, chain, and anything else that I wanted to do with him, and he enjoyed every sick minute of it. In return, I let him do the same to me, and we both looked like we'd been mauled by bears at the end of our nights together. If there was no blood drawn on us, then nothing had taken place that night. It was a very hardcore, lustful relationship that most would consider unhealthy.

But as he gently cradled me against him until I stopped crying, there was absolutely nothing unhealthy about Azazel to me. Having been in his bed most nights for the past 2 years, he'd seen these outbursts more often than I'd like. Being part human meant I was prone to dreams or nightmares, and I would always be plagued by them, even though the human in me was dead. The tears that I especially hated were still able to fall from my eyes, and I cursed out loud every time I cried. But it was something Azazel found endearing about me.

He pulled away when I stopped sobbing, and when I looked into his garnet eyes, they were oddly gentle. He kissed where my remaining tears were and then licked his lips.

“You know, I enjoy the tears of the innocent.”

“Well, then you're drinking the wrong tears,” I said quietly. I touched the side of his face, and he actually closed his eyes to my touch. Seeing my pain had put him in one of his rare gentle moods, and he would threaten me later to never tell anyone about it. He had seen me at my worst, and I'd seen him at his best. Things don't get more serious in Hell than that.

A growl was emitted deep in his throat, and he pushed forward to kiss me gently, yet passionately. My arms wrapped around his neck, and our tongues began to war with one another as he moved me down onto the bed. “Who needs innocent tears when I have the tears of darkness from the purest being to ever fall into Hell?” he whispered in between his kisses down my neck. “So much more delicious...”

“I was never pure,” I breathed out before moaning and arching my back as he bit on my n****e. His hand found its place in between my legs, and soon, he had me panting and begging for him. He wasn't being violent, probably out of respect for my nightmare, but he was being a downright tease. He knew how to get me right to climax and then back off to stop the orgasm from happening.

“My poor little, innocent Nephilim,” he breathed, kissing my stomach and swirling his tongue around my belly button just enough to make my toes curl. “Who would have thought such a scared little girl would become a dark, cruel being after her Prince's own heart.”

“I'll f*cking show you innocent,” I growled as I fought to attack him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked, using his powers to push me back down on the bed, staring at me with his dark, red eyes. “Be a good little kitten and stay still while the prince takes care of you, hmm?”

“Teasing me isn't taking care...” his kisses kept moving lower, and his tongue happened to find its mark, stopping me mid-sentence. “Holy f*ck, Azazel.” Hearing me moan his name out loud caused him to pick up speed. His fingers and mouth worked on me in ways that I forgot my own damn name. I was at my peak, my fingers tearing into the blanket as my moaning screams filled the room when he stopped once again. I growled, and he chuckled darkly. “You are such an assh*le.”

“Yes, but you love it,” he said, climbing up and holding my arms over my head. I felt him against me, and I moaned, arcing my hips up to get what I wanted. He toyed with me, sliding against my most sensitive area and giving me just the tip. Each time I tried to force more, he pulled away and reprimanded me.

This was gentle mode Azazel. Not making me bleed, but forcing me to beg for him. Though he played my submissive on many occasions, our sessions always ended with me begging. It was his way of showing in the end, he was in charge. He would let me have my way, but his word was what reigned at the end of the day. He would be the King, and I would be his obedient Queen.

“Azazel, please,” I moaned, throwing my legs around his hips.

“Please, what,” he whispered, nibbling on my earlobes.

“F*ck me,” I said, throwing my head back. He purred at my words and then finally gave me what I craved.