Candy Kisses

Candy Kisses

Chapter Sixteen

“I Sing To Life
And To Its Tragic Beauty
To Pain And To Strife
And All That Passes Through Me”
-- Josh Groban

Marzi finished buttoning his shirt, and then glanced around the bedroom. He couldn’t escape the feeling he was forgetting something. But that seemed ridiculous. After all, he hadn’t come here with a suitcase packed full of clothes and toiletries, like some teenage girl on her way to a sleepover. He hadn’t come here with anything except the clothes he’d been wearing. And, since he’d already put those back on, what else could there possibly be? Shrugging to himself, Marzi prepared to go. However, before leaving, he couldn’t resist one last check. That was when he noticed an envelope resting on the bedside table, with his name written on it in simple print. Curious, Marzi walked over and picked it up.

No note had been tucked inside. Only a pencil sketch, drawn in Sylvia’s distinctive style. Slipping it free from the envelope, Marzi saw that it was a picture of him, asleep in Kale’s arms, with his hair falling over Kale’s shoulder like a tangle of dead vines. As he stared at it, a dull ache filled Marzi’s chest.

Summoned by his sadness, Pepper came to him, as she always did when he needed her. Marzi? We don’t have to go. If you want, we can stay.

He murdered you. He cut out your heart.

Nicholas drugged you and handed you over to demons.

Nicholas didn’t understand what he was getting into.

I don’t think Kale understood, either. In some ways, he’s just as innocent as Nicholas. Pepper sighed. I’m not saying that Kale is my favorite person in the world. But you love him, and I can deal.

Reluctantly, Marzi slid Sylvia’s sketch back into the envelope. No. He’s taken a step, but he still has a long way to go. He...we both need some time apart.

Alright. But if you ever want to come back, it’s okay with me.

Thank you.

The hallways of Kale’s mansion were empty and shadowy as Marzi walked back through them. No sound disturbed his thoughts except the hiss of steam pouring from the occasional vent. Marzi remembered when he had first come here -- how strange and dangerous it had felt. Now it just felt like home. And that made it so much harder to leave.

When he reached the entrance hall, Marzi hesitated. He hadn’t said goodbye to Kale -- hadn’t even told him that he was going. How do you tell someone, in the same breath, that you love them and you’re leaving them? How do you make them understand that you’re leaving because you love them? How do you convince them that, one day, you really will come back? And yet, despite that, some tiny part of Marzi had hoped that Kale would guess. That he would be here, waiting. But the entrance hall appeared as empty as any of the ones he’d passed through. Trying to swallow his disappointment, Marzi reached for the doorknob. Then, a single word sounded in the silence, and Marzi froze.

“Stay.”

Marzi’s fingers slipped from the doorknob as he turned around. At first, all he could see was a pair of green eyes, shining through the darkness. Then Kale stepped into the light. He’d shaved his goatee back to its customary neatness, and he wore an expensive suit with each crease precisely pressed. Frenzy no longer haunted his expression. Instead, an aura of sadness clung to him like a farewell embrace.

“Stay,” he repeated. “Please.”

A knife seemed to twist in Marzi’s heart. But he shook his head. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Kale didn’t answer. Instead, he bowed his head, locking the bright fire of his eyes behind thick lashes. Unable to stop himself, Marzi took a step toward his lover.

“I will come back,” he promised. “I swear that I will.”

But Kale still seemed unsure. “How do you know?”

“Because I am your lover and your slave. Forever.” Gently, Marzi kissed Kale. Then he turned and walked out of the house.

*****

Pepper looked at Nicholas. During her imprisonment in the mirror, she’d wanted nothing more than to touch him, hold him. But now that they were finally alone together, her arms felt too heavy to lift. Nicholas, for his part, seemed equally nervous. Instead of meeting her gaze, he drifted around the edges of the bedroom, studying the knickknacks housed on its shelves. All the flotsam and jetsam she’d managed to salvage from the shipwreck of her old life. Finally, he lifted a plastic headband, with sparkly red antlers sprouting from it. Pepper smiled at his choice.

“I got that a few years ago. It plays ‘Jingle Bells’ when you press a button in the center. And the lights on the antlers start blinking.”

“Shouldn’t it play ‘Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer’?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

Nicholas chewed his lip. Then, as shyly as if he was suggesting that she put on a piece of scandalous lingerie, he offered the headband to her. “Can I see you in it?”

“Need a good laugh, huh? Sure.” Pepper placed the antlers on her head, before pressing the button which triggered their song and lightshow. Then she waited for Nicholas’s mirth. But Nicholas didn’t even chuckle. Instead, he stared at her with fierce intensity, while the blinking red lights reflected in the depths of his brown eyes. And it occurred to Pepper that this was the first time he’d seen her as she truly was now -- not in drag, not a ghost in a mirror. What if he couldn’t deal with it? What if, right this very minute, he was trying to find some way to tell her that he couldn’t be physical with a lover who wore the body of a man? “So,” she pressed, trying to be brave. “How do I look?”

“You look like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“But I’m--”

“I know. It doesn’t seem to matter.” Gently, Nicholas cupped her face in his hands, bringing their lips together. And they kissed, while the last notes of ‘Jingle Bells’ chimed from her headband.

Currents of joy flowed beneath Pepper’s skin. Her body seemed to be dissolving. Desperate to keep from falling, she slid her hands deep into Nicholas’s unruly curls and held on, while their mouths pushed and shoved against each other, restless as lovers on a hot summer night. When Nicholas’s tongue nudged her lips, she eagerly spread them, allowing him entrance. Allowing him to plunge into her again and again.

After several enjoyable minutes, Nicholas drew back a little. Pepper could feel him trembling. But instead of retreating, he began to kiss his way across the soft flesh of her cheek, until he reached her ear. For a moment, all Pepper could hear was his breath, ragged and harsh. Then, his tongue flicked against her earlobe. Pepper moaned. Every drop of blood in her body seemed to rush downward, and her eyelashes fluttered, dizzy with ecstasy. If not for her grip on Nicholas’s hair, and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, she might have swooned.

Slowly, Nicholas began to sing to her. Not with words. But with the brush of his mouth against her ear, the rhythm of his breath, the rough drag of his tongue. Pepper’s grip on his hair tightened until her fingers felt numb. Until, finally, she had no choice.

“I...” she gasped. “I need to sit down.”

“Okay.” Nicholas’s face was flushed, and his brown eyes had darkened to the color of molasses. Pepper thought she was the one who’d been made weak by desire, but as they stumbled over to the bed, their steps seemed equally clumsy. Sinking down on the mattress, they both struggled to catch their breath.

But, despite the way the room continued to spin around her, Pepper couldn’t hold back for long. All the visions that had taunted her, on all the lonely nights when her body had longed for the touch of another -- now, they churned inside her head, demanding to be realized. Driven by their insistence, she ran her fingers down the front of Nicholas’s turtleneck shirt. And then, reaching the end of it, she pushed her hand up underneath.

Now it was Nicholas’s turn to moan. His head tilted back, and breath escaped his lips in short, sharp bursts, as Pepper’s fingers skimmed across the tight muscle of his stomach. Then, her hand moved higher, to his chest. Pepper could feel his heart thudding beneath her caress, like a train racing down broken tracks. And still, she wanted more. Impatiently, she yanked at his shirt, trying to pull it up over his head, and Nicholas was quick to help her. Pepper smiled to see a lighter, finer version of his unruly curls revealed beneath it. “You’re fuzzy,” she giggled.

“Greek blood,” Nicholas explained. “On my father’s side.”

Leaning forward, he began to unbutton her shirt, pulling it open as he went. “And you,” he marveled. “You’re smooth as ice.”

“Marzi gets his chest waxed. Silly little masochist likes the pain.”

“Figures.” Nicholas tugged off her shirt and let it drop to the floor, making Pepper shiver as the cool air swept across her exposed skin. But Nicholas quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against the warmth of his body. Again, they kissed, their lips swollen and sensitive, excited by the lightest of touches. Pepper raised her hand to stroke his face and felt his eyelashes flicker against her fingers, gentle as a butterfly’s caress. Then, without warning, Nicholas fell backward, pulling her down on top of him. Pepper grunted as the center of her pleasure banged against his.

Pepper hadn’t realized that she was hard, since that region of her brother’s body remained the most unfamiliar to her. But now, becoming aware of it, she experienced pleasure so strong it almost felt like pain. An ache that wouldn’t be eased by anything except full release. Nicholas seemed to be undergoing similar sensations, because his fingers dug into her ass, and he arched his hips, trying to rub himself against her through far too many layers of clothes. But that only made it worse, teasing without satisfying.

“Pepper.” Nicholas’s voice shook slightly, unable to hide the vulnerability which lay beneath it. “I want you. I want you to be my first.”

“I want that too,” Pepper assured. But inside, she felt a whisper of doubt. Did he think that she knew what to do? As a woman, she at least understood most of the clinical details. As a man, she was completely out of her depth. And she so desperately wanted their first time to be good for him. Good for them both. Well, she did know an expert on the subject, and maybe it was time to consult him.

Marzi?

Something stirred in the darkness that lay beyond all her conscious thoughts, and then he was with her again. Hey, what’s--? Oh! That was fast work. I’m so proud of you, little sister.

Mentally, Pepper rolled her eyes. Ever since I was eighteen, I’ve been running Sugar Hearts all by myself, supporting both of us. And NOW you’re proud of me? Just because I got Nicholas into bed?

Taking over Sugar Hearts came easy to you. I bet this didn’t. Marzi paused, and then added. I think maybe you’d better kiss him. He looks a little scared.

Pepper bowed her head, and her hair fell down around Nicholas’s face like a curtain. And in that sheltered place, shielded from the world, she kissed him, trying to offer comfort without letting him guess that the two of them were no longer entirely alone. That’s kind of why I woke you. He’s never done this before. And, obviously, I haven’t either.

Always happy to help. Myself, I prefer being the bottom. Is that alright with you?

What’s a ‘bottom’?

Okay. Maybe we better start with something simple. Try getting him out of those pants.

Right. But Pepper didn’t immediately follow Marzi’s advice. Instead, noticing that Nicholas still looked a bit uncertain, she took his hand and locked her fingers around his. Then, gently, she kissed each of his knuckles. “This is going to feel so good,” she promised. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Nicholas swore. “Oh god, I do.”

Reluctantly, Pepper released Nicholas’s hand, and scooted her body down a bit, until she could easily reach the fastenings on his pants. First the snap, then the zipper gave way beneath her fingers. After that, it only took a firm yank to pull the waistband down over his hips, exposing Nicholas’s underwear. And another yank took care of that. Nicholas gasped as cool air rushed over his freshly exposed flesh, and Pepper gawked at the impressive size of her lover’s erection, rising from a tangle of curls thicker than those that covered his chest, but thinner than the hair on his head. Wow. He’s a lot bigger than you.

And that’s why I’m a bottom. Well, one of the reasons, at least.

What should I do?

Touch it. If you really want to drive him wild, try using your mouth.

Tentatively, Pepper ran her fingertips up the length of Nicholas’s shaft, and he reacted with a strangled cry as he bucked against her touch. Oh! I think I hurt him.

No. Believe me, that’s not pain. You’re doing just fine.

Reassured by Marzi’s words, Pepper bent closer, touching her lips to Nicholas’s erection. The taste of it fascinated her, salty and warm. Like the flesh of some forbidden fruit. Nibbling and kissing, she explored every inch, while Nicholas hugged a pillow to his chest and hit notes they’d never taught him in music school. Whenever he did manage to form a coherent word, it always sounded encouraging, so Pepper kept going. Until, after too short a time, Marzi urged her to stop.

Okay, that’s enough of that. We don’t want him coming just yet.

We don’t?

Indeed we don’t, my sister. The real fun hasn’t yet begun. Now, if you check in the drawer of my dresser, you’ll find some lube...

As Pepper pulled back, a look of disappointment flashed across Nicholas’s face. But he quickly shook it off. “Whatever you were doing, let me do it to you,” he pleaded, propping himself up on his elbows. “I want to make you feel that way.”

Touched by her lover’s generosity, Pepper stroked his face. He’d begun to sweat, and glittering drops clung to his eyelashes, like tiny impaled stars. “Thank you. But you’re going to do something different for me.”

In the dresser drawer, Pepper discovered a great many things -- a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, and a flogger with tails made from shiny silver chain instead of leather, along with even more items whose purpose she couldn’t begin to guess. It actually took her a minute to find the lubricant. Not because the tube was buried under everything else, but because it was so big that she initially ignored it. Good Lord, Marzi. Do you plan on hosting an orgy?

Let’s just say there are some things you don’t want to run out of.

Returning to the bed, Pepper handed Nicholas the tube of lubricant. And, while he stared at it with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, she finished undressing.

“What am I supposed to--?”

Pepper smiled as she climbed back onto the bed. Flipping open the tube, she squirted a bit of the lubricant onto Nicholas’s fingers, and helped him coat them with it. Then, still holding his hand, she lay back and spread her legs, gently guiding him into position. “Slip your fingers up inside me,” she coaxed. “First one, then two. You need to loosen me up.”

“Loosen you up? For what?”

“For you,” Pepper murmured, tracing the length of Nicholas’s erection.

Nicholas’s eyes got huge. “Oh! I. Um. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Um. Okay. Alright. But if anything I do feels wrong, tell me.”

Positioning himself between her spread legs, Nicholas rolled over onto his stomach. Then, slowly, he began to rub the pucker of her ass. Pepper squealed as his first finger pushed inside her, startled by the lubricant’s lingering chill. But, a moment later, Nicholas lowered his mouth to her erection, and all other sensations were drowned beneath the resulting flood of ecstasy. Wrapping his mouth around its shaft, he engulfed it. And, trained by years of practicing the breath control needed to sing, he held it deep for a seemingly impossible eternity, massaging it with the muscles in his throat each time he swallowed.

Oh fuck, Marzi groaned. He’s good! Fuck, he’s good.

Pepper nodded, too lost in her own pleasure to make any coherent reply. Her arousal, and that of her brother, kept washing over her in alternating waves, one climaxing just at the other started to wane, leaving her no lulls for catching her breath. All she could do was tear at the sheets and push down against Nicholas’s invading fingers, hungry for more. “Oh, Sweetie. Sugarplum. Honey.” Her mind spun as she reeled off the terms of endearment. “Jellybean. Lollipop. Lemon Drop. Oh, that feels so goddamn nice...”

Finally, Marzi regained some control. Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! Tell him that we’re ready.

“We...” Pepper panted. Then, hastily, she corrected herself. “I...want you...inside me.”

Obediently, Nicholas withdrew his fingers, and pushed himself up onto his knees. As he got into position, Pepper experienced her first quivers of anxiety. His fingers had felt like heaven. But what he was about to shove into her was considerably bigger than his fingers.

It’s alright, Marzi soothed. There is a little pain. At first. But that just sharpens your senses for what comes next.

Even as Marzi finished speaking, Nicholas pushed into her, and Pepper cried out, filled in a way she’d never imagined possible. Immediately, Nicholas froze. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Pepper assured. Weakly, she reached up, tracing the shape of his mouth. “Just go slow.”

Nicholas nodded. For a moment, he didn’t stir at all -- just gazed down at her, with beads of sweat dripping from his hair to land on her naked body. Then, he placed a kiss on the very tip of her finger. Pepper sighed as his hips began to move again, pressing him closer, gradual as syrup running uphill. At the same time, his lips wrapped around her finger, and he began to suckle it, drawing it deeper into his mouth, allowing her to enter him as he entered her. Joining them together like yin and yang. Until, finally, he was all the way in, and their faces were so close together that his forehead rested against hers. Their breath seemed to come in perfect unison. Pepper had never felt so completely connected to another person.

At first, they kept almost perfectly still. Afraid of what might come next. It seemed to Pepper that a single movement, a single word, would be enough to unleash some unimaginable storm.

But eventually, Nicholas broke the silence. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Wonderful. I love puppies and kittens. Now tell him to start fucking you before I go completely insane!

Instead of speaking, Pepper placed her hands on Nicholas’s hips, guiding his first, slow thrusts. As Marzi had promised, the pain was gone. All she felt now was pleasure, slowly building, ripening inside her body. Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensations, Pepper let her head drop back on the pillows. Closed her eyes. Whispered Nicholas’s name over and over, like the spells she used to enchant her candy. There was so much she wanted to give him. A normal life. A house, a wife, a child. And she couldn’t, not ever. But she could give him this.

Awakened by the strength of her emotions, her magic came to life, flowing through her like untamed fire. For the first time in her life, Pepper couldn’t control it. Now she knew how it felt to be melted sugar, heated to the point where she had no physical form, no ability to do anything but seethe and roll. She was just a pool of sticky liquid, stirred by her pleasure and her power. Pulled into seemingly impossible shapes as she approached her orgasm. Then, as if she’d suddenly been brought to boil, ecstasy exploded inside her. With a desperate scream, she wrapped legs around Nicholas, and held him deep inside as she came, thrashing about beneath him. And her frenzy seemed to give Nicholas the push he needed, because he bellowed, adding his cries to hers.

Finally, the sensations receded, and Pepper regained some modicum of control. Forcing her eyes open, she gazed at Nicholas through a blur of golden light. “I told you it would be good, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Nicholas admitted. Looking like he might pass out, he collapsed on the mattress next to her. “I just never dreamed anything could ever be THAT good.”

Pepper laughed. Rolling over onto her side, she rested her head on Nicholas’s chest, pleased by the slight tickle of his chest hair against her cheek. I guess I did alright, big brother.

Not bad, Marzi conceded. Although, I have to ask -- which one of you has the reindeer fetish?

With a start, Pepper remembered the headband. For a moment, she considered pulling it off and tossing it across the room. But that seemed like too much trouble. Instead, she just snuggled deeper into Nicholas’s embrace. Do I interrogate you about your kinks?

I was just asking. Anyway, I’ll leave you alone with your gumdrop, your piece of sweetmeat, your little chocolate bonbon...

Marzi!

Right. I’m starting to make myself hungry. Then, with a chuckle, he was gone.

Exhausted from the sex, Pepper felt drowsiness begin to creep over her. But before she surrendered to it, she took the time to calm her magic, coaxing it up and down the length of her body, like slowly rocking a baby to sleep. Gently, she whispered wordless lullabies to it, until it once more slept beneath her skin, awaiting her next command. Everything back to normal. Except...except that she had sensed some slight difference, as if part of her power now flowed along an unfamiliar path. As if something inside her had changed. But that was ridiculous. What could possibly be different? Soothed by the steady repetition of Nicholas stroking her shoulder, Pepper drifted off to sleep.

*****

Nicholas dreams. He’s standing on the edge of a stage, with spotlights streaming into his eyes, their glare so bright that he can’t see beyond them. Cringing, he wonders if this is going to be one of those nightmares where he’s supposed to sing, except he can’t remember the words. Then he realizes -- he’s already singing. Although “words” seems like a woefully inadequate description of the sounds that leap from his throat. In no language Nicholas can imagine, the lyrics seem to dance in the air, like white feathers tumbling through rays of dazzling light. Despite his lack of exact comprehension, he knows what the song is about. It’s a song of rejoicing. A song of gratitude, of joy so pure that it’s almost unimaginable. Tears begin to run down Nicholas’s face. His heart feels like it’s going to burst, although whether from elation or sorrow, he couldn’t say. But this much he does know. Human vocal chords were not designed to utter these notes, and human ears were never intended to hear them.

Just when Nicholas feels sure that another verse will mean his death, the song ends. And the spotlights go out. Now, as Nicholas’s eyes adjust, he can see rows and rows of empty seats, stretching away into infinity. But they can’t all be empty. Because, coming from somewhere among them, he hears the sound of one hand deliberately striking another. Finally, Nicholas spots a man sitting in the tenth row. And, seeming to sense that he now has Nicholas’s attention, the man rises, still continuing his slow clapping. That’s when Nicholas recognizes him. Raedeman, Duke of Hell.

Moving with long, unhurried strides, Raedeman steps into the aisle, and begins walking toward the stage. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I last heard that. Of course, you don’t quite have the voice of an angel. But you still managed to do it some justice.”

Nicholas blinks. Part of him wants to run, but on all sides, he’s surrounded by the endless vista of empty seats. And, in any case, the time for running is past. He made this deal. Now, he needs to face the reckoning.

“It really is a shame that you couldn’t be patient.” As Raedeman reaches the end of the aisle, immense red wings sprout from behind his back, and with several powerful flaps, he lifts himself up onto the stage. Then, he’s standing beside Nicholas. “I almost hate to do this. But you have to see things from my viewpoint. I’m a businessman, and if word got out that I let people break their contracts, everyone would want to do it. And I did warn you. I told you that I would take back what you owed me.”

With inhuman swiftness, Raedeman’s hand shoots out and wraps around Nicholas’s neck. Instantly, Nicholas feels a sensation like burning hooks sinking into his flesh and then yanking backward, tearing open his throat. His lips split apart as he tries to scream. But the pain is so intense he can’t make a sound. Every muscle in his body seems to go limp, and only Raedeman’s merciless grip keeps him from falling on the ground.

Until, finally, Raedeman releases him, and Nicholas sinks to his knees, gasping for breath.

“You may not believe this, Nicholas Foster, but I hold no grudge against you. In fact, I wish you luck. Because, if I’m right, you’re going to need it.”

Nicholas wants to ask Raedeman what he means, but the houselights are already growing fainter, allowing darkness to consume row after row of empty seats. For a moment, Raedeman’s silhouette remains visible, like a statue carved from black stone. Then the night devours even that.

Nicholas’s eyes snapped open, jolting his mind awake. Again, brightness blurred his vision, but this time it was only the morning sun leaking in through the curtains of Pepper’s bedroom, casting lacey patterns of light and shadow across the carpet. A dream. It had just been a dream. Rolling over onto his side, Nicholas reached for Pepper, intending to wake her and tell her about the nightmare. To take comfort in her gentle smile. But when he opened his mouth to speak her name, no sound came.

No sound at all.

Epilogue

Within a week, things returned to normal at Sayyids’s. Evil was an easier path to follow when it existed without the memory of beauty, and so most of the demons had done their best to forget the mysterious singing they’d heard come from the back room of the café. As Raedeman sat down at his favorite table, they were all engaged in their usual fights, deals, and seductions, just as if heaven’s grace had never touched them.

But one thing was different. Before Raedeman could order his drink, a demoness approached him, and then sunk to her knees, her head bowed. “My Lord. I await your punishment.”

Bemused, Raedeman arched his eyebrow. “And that would be punishment for what, exactly?”

“I was the one who allowed the human woman to enter. Because of my mistake, your prisoners escaped.”

“Ah. That.” Glancing toward the bar, Raedeman caught the attention of a server, and gestured for a drink to be brought over. Then he returned his gaze to the demoness. “What’s your name?”

“I am called Cira, My Lord.”

Raedeman took note of the scars which covered the demoness’s body like haphazardly scrawled tattoos. “And you’re a Venger, aren’t you?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Well, it’s not surprising that a lowly demon like yourself fails to understand the complexities of Lucifer’s great plan. As it happens, things turned out quite satisfactorily.”

“Satisfactorily, My Lord?” For the first time, Cira raised her head and looked directly at him. “How can that be? Kale allowed his lover to leave. The boy will never sing again. So much happened, and yet at the end of everything, it all seems to have been for nothing.”

“You played your role,” Raedeman snapped. “That’s all you need to know. Now get back to your duties before I punish you just for the sheer enjoyment of it.”
Fear flared up in Cira’s eyes. “Yes, My Lord,” she groveled, bowing so low that she banged her forehead on the floor. Then, still down on her hands and knees, she scrambled back the way she’d come.

After she was gone, Raedeman raised his mug, and took a long swallow. Lying always relaxed him. In truth, he didn’t know if this was part of Hell’s plan. Or Heaven’s. Or something destined to equally upset both powers. But he remembered the prophecy he’d been reading on the day when Nicholas first ventured into to Sayyid’s Soul Food Café. She, who will come, will come twice. First born from a woman, then born from a man, she is the triple goddess -- mother, sister, and daughter to herself. Neither of heaven nor hell, she will come. And she will decide.

“No,” Raedeman murmured to himself. “It hasn’t been for nothing. And this most certainly isn’t the end.”

(Thanks so much for reading my story! If you liked it, please leave a review. And be sure to check out its sequel: "Jelly Babies." Love, Falcon.)