Fire and Ice (Perish Twice 4/5)
Title: Fire and Ice (4/5)
Author: secondplatypus
Pairing: Sam/Lucifer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, wing kink, explicit sex, rough sex, tender sex, marking, biting, some D/S and S/M themes, a little language, and the evillest cliff-hanger I've ever written
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 2141 (6819 total)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes
Summary: The Devil's at the door, seeking domination. Sam proves his strength, and shows him that you've got to, got to try a little tenderness. and then really important stuff happens.
Author's notes:
- The previously promised chapter where the proverbial shit hits the nasty, dirty, smutty NC-17 fan has arrived. This is longest chapter in the series. Also the dirtiest.
*cough* Imayormaynothaveplanneditthatway *cough*
I have less than no idea how this is going to go over. I'm crossing my fingers for "well".
- The book of Revelation calls the Devil the "twelve-winged" serpent, so I was a touch confused as to how many wings to give him, as the seraphim normally have six. Eventually, I settled on twelve so as to be as true to Biblical canon as possible, but only the standard six are shown. The description I use implies that the set is half of a whole, but the actual number is never addressed in the story. The explanation I'm going with is that to see all twelve wings, and thus Lucifer in his true form, would destroy Sam, so the Devil chooses a less extreme display of his power.
- I describe the shape they form as the upper half of an eight-rayed star. In Lucifer's true form, each of the primary points would be composed of a pair that come together above his head, beneath his feet, to his left, and to his right, with a wing between each pair, forming a silhouette akin to that of a compass rose.
- I'm already working on the fifth chapter and the short epilogue that follows it.
- right as I was making the final preparations to post this, my iTunes shuffle decided it was time for a Rolling Stones song. "Sympathy for the Devil", to be precise.
Previous Chapter:
part three - I Think I Know Enough of Hate
From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate
to say that for destruction ice is also great,
and would suffice
The next time Lucifer appeared to Sam, it wasn't in his dreams.
One minute, Sam was lying on his bed reading a book that pertained to his and Dean's latest case -- his brother had returned to him a few days before -- and the next, Lucifer was standing in the doorway.
Sam's heart fluttered in his chest as the book fell from his fingers. He stood and stepped towards Lucifer, parting his lips to thank him for the comfort and the nights of peaceful sleep, but the words died in his throat when he saw the expression on Lucifer's face. There was something cold behind Lucifer's eyes and in the set of his face, something ruthless and cruel and more than a little bit terrifying.
Without saying a word, Lucifer closed the distance between he and Sam and bit a mark of possession into Sam's neck; Sam's confusion at Lucifer's change in demeanor was all but forgotten as lust slammed into him at the feel of that mouth on his skin.
Love had always been Lucifer's weakness. He had loved God too much, and that love consumed him and pushed him beyond reason, separating him from his Father and his home and trapping him in an eternity's worth of loneliness and misery. Now, love was on the verge of ruining him again; he could never be truly free of his longing for his Father and his family, but he could be free of that cage once and for all and return to a position of power. After thousands of years of plotting and waiting and hoping, he was in danger of losing that chance because of his feelings for a human.
Humans had been the ultimate cause of his downfall once before, but they wouldn't be again.
Lucifer growled low as his teeth sank deeper into the place where neck met shoulder. He felt Sam's hands reach up, pressing into his back; at the touch, Lucifer broke away, looking Sam straight in the eyes.
Sam moved close, lips seeking Lucifer's. Lucifer turned his face to the side, denying the kiss and tangling his fingers in Sam's hair. With a sharp jerking motion, he pulled Sam's head back to expose his throat, sucking at the skin he found there until he tasted blood.
Kissing shared souls. Lucifer didn't want to share, he wanted to take, to absorb every scrap of Sam's warmth, devour every square inch of his body and make it Lucifer's own. Sam himself is irrelevant, Lucifer repeated over and over in his head, he just needed Sam's body and the heat of his soul, he didn't need the soul -- Sam -- itself.
The edges of teeth and tongue worked to deepen the mark on Sam's neck as Lucifer laid claim to him with his hands; fingers biting into skin, crushing tissue and tiny vessels to leave behind a five-rayed imprint on Sam's right shoulder and another on the space just above his left hip.
Lucifer felt Sam's soul reaching out to his grace, causing him to flinch and snatch it away from the questing tendril. Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing the fire of his grace in a clear signal of warning. When the soul tried again, Lucifer released his hold on Sam's body, stepped back, and summoned his wings.
Sam's soul should have recoiled in the face of the display of power, quivering in submission, but instead, it did the exact opposite.
Lucifer's eyes flew open in astonishment.
A bruised, bitten Sam was standing tall and strong in the face of the most awe-inspiring, terrible beauty in all creation; two massive wings stretching out at Lucifer's sides, the steel gray of hurricane skies and thunderheads, edged and highlighted with the brilliant silvery white of grace and flanked by the rising tips of four more. The two tallest met behind Lucifer in a point that touched the ceiling, lines forming the top half of an eight-rayed star -- the Morningstar. It was a sight that had made the legions of Heaven cower and brought angels to their knees, but rather than shrink or bow, Sam seemed drawn to it.
Sam stepped forward and reached out a hand; only a few inches separated his fingers from those wings. When the shocked archangel didn't react, Sam moved closer still, until Lucifer could feel the remnants of Sam's breath ruffling through his feathers. With a gentle, hesitant touch, Sam pressed each of his fingertips to the sleek, smooth plumes, petting whisper-light along their grain.
At the sound of the moan that fell from Lucifer's lips, Sam buried his fingers deep in the dark, shining feathers, combing them through pinions and down. It was too strong, all heat and fingers and Sam in places that hadn't been touched for centuries upon centuries; with a sharp keen of pleasure, Lucifer's legs buckled under him, bringing him to his knees. In response, Sam curled his fingers around the bases of the feathers and gave them a firm tug, stretching the sensitive skin beneath. Lucifer cried out again, clasping Sam's hips in supplication and burying his teeth in the denim-covered flesh of Sam's thigh.
As quickly as those fingers had begun their assault on his senses, they relented, smoothing the feathers and stroking gently along the lovely, gracefully arched lines defining the edges of his wings. The arms locked around Sam's body softened their grip; bruising scrapes of teeth turning to gentle nips as they fell away. The tremendous, threatening span of Lucifer's wings diminished as they relaxed, folding slightly in a gesture of defeat.
In that moment, as he looked up at Sam, Lucifer shone as his true self, a creature full of love, made from love, then spurned by the one who had brought him to into being.
Sam knelt until he was level with the archangel, eyes flickering over Lucifer's face before capturing Lucifer's mouth with his own. Lucifer poured that love, his pain, his longing, and his need into the contact, locking their lips, tongues, and bodies together with a passionate desperation that Sam couldn't help but return.
Sam wanted it, God help him, he wanted it. Wanted to be kissed, to be bitten, to be taken; Lucifer's groan told Sam that the Devil had heard his thoughts. Without breaking their kiss, Lucifer scooped Sam up in his arms. For a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze around them before Sam found himself on the bed with the wing-framed archangel kneeling between his spread legs. In the blink of an eye, their clothes were gone, whisked to God-knew-where by Lucifer's will. Lucifer's body was every bit as beautiful as Sam remembered, and as Sam took in the muscle-curved contours of Lucifer's thighs and the long, thick, flawless erection between them, Sam felt another rush of heat travelling to the already hard, heavy evidence of his arousal.
Smooth skin met smooth skin as Lucifer's lips sealed over Sam's neck, sucking another livid bruise to the delicate flesh. As those lips made their way lower, lavishing attention on Sam's collarbone and nipples, the tips of Lucifer's wings traced along the blue-toned paths in Sam's arms that marked the flow of his blood, where heat and power thrummed just beneath the skin. As Lucifer moved lower, his wings did, too; new pairs re-tracing the lines of his arms as the first two made their way over the patches of kiss-darkened skin left behind by Lucifer. With each touch of those wings, Sam felt the electric tingle of grace traveling along his nerves in slow, steady harmony with the rhythm of the mouth licking and sucking its way along his ribs, the flat planes of his belly, and his hipbones, pausing every now and again to catch skin between the sharp points of teeth.
Lucifer's mouth and the pent-up grace lazily snaking through Sam's body found his dick at the same time, converging in a wave of sensation so intense Sam nearly passed out. Moving of its own accord, Sam's body arched up into Lucifer's mouth, thrusting past full lips to the wetness and sinful tongue beyond.
One of Sam's hands reached up to tangle in Lucifer's hair, the other coming to rest in the feathers of a wing that curved above him. Lucifer let out a soft huff of amusement at Sam's audacity before fingers began to stroke and gently pull on his feathers as the insistent pressure of Sam's hand on the back of his head guided the archangel's mouth along his cock. The feel of hands on his wings was too much, tearing moans from Lucifer as he sucked and licked his way along the hard length in his mouth. It would be too easy to relinquish control, giving in to those fingers and the Heaven they would bring him, and that simply would not do. Tonight, Sam was his and his to pleasure, not the other way around.
Lucifer flexed his wing, jerking it free of Sam's grasp, and pulled his mouth away, ignoring Sam's groans of protest. Encircling Sam's wrist with two long fingers, Lucifer plucked the hand from the back of his head, shooting Sam a Displeased Look that very clearly promised dire consequences should that hand stray again.
Lucifer waited a few seconds after Sam's nod of compliance before wrapping his fingers around Sam's dick, working him with soft, teasing touches as he contemplated the logistics of having sex with him. Despite Dean Winchester's reputation, there didn't seem to be any lube around. Lucifer would have enjoyed the poetic justice of using Dean's lube to fuck his brother, but he didn't need it - archangels had their ways of making things work between the healing and the conjuring of whatever the hell they wanted.
He concentrated on his free hand, picturing the feel of viscous fluid coating his fingers, the shine of it as light played over his palm, then willed it into being.
Lucifer returned his mouth to Sam's cock, sliding his newly-wet fingers along the sensitive skin beneath Sam's balls before finding Sam's entrance. Sam let out a soft whimper of surprise, which Lucifer quieted by sliding his tongue along Sam's shaft.
Preparation was short and rough, made so by a combination of Sam's constant begging as soon as Lucifer's fingertip found the spot that made lightning explode behind his eyes and Lucifer's impatience as he watched Sam squirm so prettily and felt Sam's body clenching around his fingers.
When Lucifer's fingers withdrew, Sam gasped at the loss of the touch.
"Look at me," Lucifer commanded, his voice rougher and hungrier than Sam had ever heard it.
The eyes that met Sam's were full of promise and desire, with a stormy glint that matched the tone of the wings rising behind him.
Lucifer held Sam's gaze, willing him not to look away
As Sam watched, Lucifer wrapped a hand around his dick, slicking it wet.
Strong thighs locked around Lucifer's hips as Lucifer positioned himself against Sam's entrance. Curling his fingers around the muscular flesh of Sam's legs for leverage, Lucifer entered Sam with a slow, deliberate thrust into tight, perfect heat that moved around Lucifer like liquid fire, surging through Lucifer's body until it felt as though every fragment of his being had been set alight.
Lucifer took his time, revelling in every ripple of muscle around him, in the way Sam shuddered with each stroke, in each disbelieving cry of pleasure as Lucifer arched and rolled his hips just so, dragging his thick tip over the nerve-rich bundle hidden deep within Sam.
The agonizingly sweet torment was punctuated with hard thrusts as Lucifer buried himself in Sam with swift, powerful movements. He knew Sam liked it rough, and he was going to love tantalizing him with scraps of what he wanted and watching him come undone.
Lucifer toyed with Sam until each and every one of his muscles was tense, body pleading for release as Sam groaned and writhed.
His fingers dug into Sam's thighs, blunt nails biting into tender skin, flares of pleasure igniting within him when he saw Sam's cock flush darker in response to the endorphin-sweetened pain. The wordless moans escaping Sam's lips began to take shape, forming a blasphemous chant of God-s and please-s and Lucifer's name that fuelled the fire in the Morningstar's veins.
No more games. I'm going to fuck you through this mattress, Sam Winchester.
Lucifer tightened his grip until he felt the slick texture of blood beneath his fingertips and pounded into Sam, slamming into his prostate with every brutal stroke.
"Oh God, Lucifer..."
In a moment of absolute lust on the brink of orgasm, words Sam had never meant to say ripped themselves from his throat in a raw, harsh scream that rang in the Devil's ears,
"Oh God, Lucifer, yes!"
Cliff-hangers and torpedoes be damned! Here's Chapter 5.
Author: secondplatypus
Pairing: Sam/Lucifer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, wing kink, explicit sex, rough sex, tender sex, marking, biting, some D/S and S/M themes, a little language, and the evillest cliff-hanger I've ever written
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 2141 (6819 total)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes
Summary: The Devil's at the door, seeking domination. Sam proves his strength, and shows him that you've got to, got to try a little tenderness. and then really important stuff happens.
Author's notes:
- The previously promised chapter where the proverbial shit hits the nasty, dirty, smutty NC-17 fan has arrived. This is longest chapter in the series. Also the dirtiest.
*cough* Imayormaynothaveplanneditthatway *cough*
I have less than no idea how this is going to go over. I'm crossing my fingers for "well".
- The book of Revelation calls the Devil the "twelve-winged" serpent, so I was a touch confused as to how many wings to give him, as the seraphim normally have six. Eventually, I settled on twelve so as to be as true to Biblical canon as possible, but only the standard six are shown. The description I use implies that the set is half of a whole, but the actual number is never addressed in the story. The explanation I'm going with is that to see all twelve wings, and thus Lucifer in his true form, would destroy Sam, so the Devil chooses a less extreme display of his power.
- I describe the shape they form as the upper half of an eight-rayed star. In Lucifer's true form, each of the primary points would be composed of a pair that come together above his head, beneath his feet, to his left, and to his right, with a wing between each pair, forming a silhouette akin to that of a compass rose.
- I'm already working on the fifth chapter and the short epilogue that follows it.
- right as I was making the final preparations to post this, my iTunes shuffle decided it was time for a Rolling Stones song. "Sympathy for the Devil", to be precise.
Previous Chapter:
part three - I Think I Know Enough of Hate
From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate
to say that for destruction ice is also great,
and would suffice
The next time Lucifer appeared to Sam, it wasn't in his dreams.
One minute, Sam was lying on his bed reading a book that pertained to his and Dean's latest case -- his brother had returned to him a few days before -- and the next, Lucifer was standing in the doorway.
Sam's heart fluttered in his chest as the book fell from his fingers. He stood and stepped towards Lucifer, parting his lips to thank him for the comfort and the nights of peaceful sleep, but the words died in his throat when he saw the expression on Lucifer's face. There was something cold behind Lucifer's eyes and in the set of his face, something ruthless and cruel and more than a little bit terrifying.
Without saying a word, Lucifer closed the distance between he and Sam and bit a mark of possession into Sam's neck; Sam's confusion at Lucifer's change in demeanor was all but forgotten as lust slammed into him at the feel of that mouth on his skin.
Love had always been Lucifer's weakness. He had loved God too much, and that love consumed him and pushed him beyond reason, separating him from his Father and his home and trapping him in an eternity's worth of loneliness and misery. Now, love was on the verge of ruining him again; he could never be truly free of his longing for his Father and his family, but he could be free of that cage once and for all and return to a position of power. After thousands of years of plotting and waiting and hoping, he was in danger of losing that chance because of his feelings for a human.
Humans had been the ultimate cause of his downfall once before, but they wouldn't be again.
Lucifer growled low as his teeth sank deeper into the place where neck met shoulder. He felt Sam's hands reach up, pressing into his back; at the touch, Lucifer broke away, looking Sam straight in the eyes.
Sam moved close, lips seeking Lucifer's. Lucifer turned his face to the side, denying the kiss and tangling his fingers in Sam's hair. With a sharp jerking motion, he pulled Sam's head back to expose his throat, sucking at the skin he found there until he tasted blood.
Kissing shared souls. Lucifer didn't want to share, he wanted to take, to absorb every scrap of Sam's warmth, devour every square inch of his body and make it Lucifer's own. Sam himself is irrelevant, Lucifer repeated over and over in his head, he just needed Sam's body and the heat of his soul, he didn't need the soul -- Sam -- itself.
The edges of teeth and tongue worked to deepen the mark on Sam's neck as Lucifer laid claim to him with his hands; fingers biting into skin, crushing tissue and tiny vessels to leave behind a five-rayed imprint on Sam's right shoulder and another on the space just above his left hip.
Lucifer felt Sam's soul reaching out to his grace, causing him to flinch and snatch it away from the questing tendril. Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing the fire of his grace in a clear signal of warning. When the soul tried again, Lucifer released his hold on Sam's body, stepped back, and summoned his wings.
Sam's soul should have recoiled in the face of the display of power, quivering in submission, but instead, it did the exact opposite.
Lucifer's eyes flew open in astonishment.
A bruised, bitten Sam was standing tall and strong in the face of the most awe-inspiring, terrible beauty in all creation; two massive wings stretching out at Lucifer's sides, the steel gray of hurricane skies and thunderheads, edged and highlighted with the brilliant silvery white of grace and flanked by the rising tips of four more. The two tallest met behind Lucifer in a point that touched the ceiling, lines forming the top half of an eight-rayed star -- the Morningstar. It was a sight that had made the legions of Heaven cower and brought angels to their knees, but rather than shrink or bow, Sam seemed drawn to it.
Sam stepped forward and reached out a hand; only a few inches separated his fingers from those wings. When the shocked archangel didn't react, Sam moved closer still, until Lucifer could feel the remnants of Sam's breath ruffling through his feathers. With a gentle, hesitant touch, Sam pressed each of his fingertips to the sleek, smooth plumes, petting whisper-light along their grain.
At the sound of the moan that fell from Lucifer's lips, Sam buried his fingers deep in the dark, shining feathers, combing them through pinions and down. It was too strong, all heat and fingers and Sam in places that hadn't been touched for centuries upon centuries; with a sharp keen of pleasure, Lucifer's legs buckled under him, bringing him to his knees. In response, Sam curled his fingers around the bases of the feathers and gave them a firm tug, stretching the sensitive skin beneath. Lucifer cried out again, clasping Sam's hips in supplication and burying his teeth in the denim-covered flesh of Sam's thigh.
As quickly as those fingers had begun their assault on his senses, they relented, smoothing the feathers and stroking gently along the lovely, gracefully arched lines defining the edges of his wings. The arms locked around Sam's body softened their grip; bruising scrapes of teeth turning to gentle nips as they fell away. The tremendous, threatening span of Lucifer's wings diminished as they relaxed, folding slightly in a gesture of defeat.
In that moment, as he looked up at Sam, Lucifer shone as his true self, a creature full of love, made from love, then spurned by the one who had brought him to into being.
Sam knelt until he was level with the archangel, eyes flickering over Lucifer's face before capturing Lucifer's mouth with his own. Lucifer poured that love, his pain, his longing, and his need into the contact, locking their lips, tongues, and bodies together with a passionate desperation that Sam couldn't help but return.
Sam wanted it, God help him, he wanted it. Wanted to be kissed, to be bitten, to be taken; Lucifer's groan told Sam that the Devil had heard his thoughts. Without breaking their kiss, Lucifer scooped Sam up in his arms. For a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze around them before Sam found himself on the bed with the wing-framed archangel kneeling between his spread legs. In the blink of an eye, their clothes were gone, whisked to God-knew-where by Lucifer's will. Lucifer's body was every bit as beautiful as Sam remembered, and as Sam took in the muscle-curved contours of Lucifer's thighs and the long, thick, flawless erection between them, Sam felt another rush of heat travelling to the already hard, heavy evidence of his arousal.
Smooth skin met smooth skin as Lucifer's lips sealed over Sam's neck, sucking another livid bruise to the delicate flesh. As those lips made their way lower, lavishing attention on Sam's collarbone and nipples, the tips of Lucifer's wings traced along the blue-toned paths in Sam's arms that marked the flow of his blood, where heat and power thrummed just beneath the skin. As Lucifer moved lower, his wings did, too; new pairs re-tracing the lines of his arms as the first two made their way over the patches of kiss-darkened skin left behind by Lucifer. With each touch of those wings, Sam felt the electric tingle of grace traveling along his nerves in slow, steady harmony with the rhythm of the mouth licking and sucking its way along his ribs, the flat planes of his belly, and his hipbones, pausing every now and again to catch skin between the sharp points of teeth.
Lucifer's mouth and the pent-up grace lazily snaking through Sam's body found his dick at the same time, converging in a wave of sensation so intense Sam nearly passed out. Moving of its own accord, Sam's body arched up into Lucifer's mouth, thrusting past full lips to the wetness and sinful tongue beyond.
One of Sam's hands reached up to tangle in Lucifer's hair, the other coming to rest in the feathers of a wing that curved above him. Lucifer let out a soft huff of amusement at Sam's audacity before fingers began to stroke and gently pull on his feathers as the insistent pressure of Sam's hand on the back of his head guided the archangel's mouth along his cock. The feel of hands on his wings was too much, tearing moans from Lucifer as he sucked and licked his way along the hard length in his mouth. It would be too easy to relinquish control, giving in to those fingers and the Heaven they would bring him, and that simply would not do. Tonight, Sam was his and his to pleasure, not the other way around.
Lucifer flexed his wing, jerking it free of Sam's grasp, and pulled his mouth away, ignoring Sam's groans of protest. Encircling Sam's wrist with two long fingers, Lucifer plucked the hand from the back of his head, shooting Sam a Displeased Look that very clearly promised dire consequences should that hand stray again.
Lucifer waited a few seconds after Sam's nod of compliance before wrapping his fingers around Sam's dick, working him with soft, teasing touches as he contemplated the logistics of having sex with him. Despite Dean Winchester's reputation, there didn't seem to be any lube around. Lucifer would have enjoyed the poetic justice of using Dean's lube to fuck his brother, but he didn't need it - archangels had their ways of making things work between the healing and the conjuring of whatever the hell they wanted.
He concentrated on his free hand, picturing the feel of viscous fluid coating his fingers, the shine of it as light played over his palm, then willed it into being.
Lucifer returned his mouth to Sam's cock, sliding his newly-wet fingers along the sensitive skin beneath Sam's balls before finding Sam's entrance. Sam let out a soft whimper of surprise, which Lucifer quieted by sliding his tongue along Sam's shaft.
Preparation was short and rough, made so by a combination of Sam's constant begging as soon as Lucifer's fingertip found the spot that made lightning explode behind his eyes and Lucifer's impatience as he watched Sam squirm so prettily and felt Sam's body clenching around his fingers.
When Lucifer's fingers withdrew, Sam gasped at the loss of the touch.
"Look at me," Lucifer commanded, his voice rougher and hungrier than Sam had ever heard it.
The eyes that met Sam's were full of promise and desire, with a stormy glint that matched the tone of the wings rising behind him.
Lucifer held Sam's gaze, willing him not to look away
As Sam watched, Lucifer wrapped a hand around his dick, slicking it wet.
Strong thighs locked around Lucifer's hips as Lucifer positioned himself against Sam's entrance. Curling his fingers around the muscular flesh of Sam's legs for leverage, Lucifer entered Sam with a slow, deliberate thrust into tight, perfect heat that moved around Lucifer like liquid fire, surging through Lucifer's body until it felt as though every fragment of his being had been set alight.
Lucifer took his time, revelling in every ripple of muscle around him, in the way Sam shuddered with each stroke, in each disbelieving cry of pleasure as Lucifer arched and rolled his hips just so, dragging his thick tip over the nerve-rich bundle hidden deep within Sam.
The agonizingly sweet torment was punctuated with hard thrusts as Lucifer buried himself in Sam with swift, powerful movements. He knew Sam liked it rough, and he was going to love tantalizing him with scraps of what he wanted and watching him come undone.
Lucifer toyed with Sam until each and every one of his muscles was tense, body pleading for release as Sam groaned and writhed.
His fingers dug into Sam's thighs, blunt nails biting into tender skin, flares of pleasure igniting within him when he saw Sam's cock flush darker in response to the endorphin-sweetened pain. The wordless moans escaping Sam's lips began to take shape, forming a blasphemous chant of God-s and please-s and Lucifer's name that fuelled the fire in the Morningstar's veins.
No more games. I'm going to fuck you through this mattress, Sam Winchester.
Lucifer tightened his grip until he felt the slick texture of blood beneath his fingertips and pounded into Sam, slamming into his prostate with every brutal stroke.
"Oh God, Lucifer..."
In a moment of absolute lust on the brink of orgasm, words Sam had never meant to say ripped themselves from his throat in a raw, harsh scream that rang in the Devil's ears,
"Oh God, Lucifer, yes!"
Cliff-hangers and torpedoes be damned! Here's Chapter 5.