Sugar Hearts

Many thanks to Rin-chan, FlamesEmbrace, and Girl in a Tree for their lovely reviews! I know I keep saying it, but I feel truly lucky to have such devoted readers.

Okay, normally I don\'t post warnings, because I hate giving away what\'s going to happen. But this chapter warrants it. Everything about to happen is consentual, but if you don\'t like any blood or pain with your sex, skip this. Really.

Love,
Falcon

Sugar Hearts

Chapter Eight

It was only five o’clock, but Marzi had already gotten a bit tipsy, having spent the afternoon drinking a particularly expensive bottle of wine culled from Kale’s private reserves. Kale, it seemed, delighted in collecting the rare vintages produced by various monasteries, each one nestled in the remote hills of some suitably rustic foreign country. His eyes would glint as he swirled the alcohol in his glass, and he’d talk about how ‘pleased’ the monks would be to know that the fruits of all their labors had come here, to be enjoyed by a demon. Marzi possessed no such blasphemous agenda. But he knew good wine when he tasted it.

“Come to me, my last sip of ambrosia,” Marzi coaxed, tilting the wine bottle even further back. He lay sprawled out on the bed, fully clothed, his boots propped up on the footboard, as he attempted to extract the final few drops. “My coy little taste of bliss...”

Obligingly, the remaining wine trickled onto his tongue, and Marzi closed his eyes, savoring the flavor of it. He could almost envision the faraway country of its origin. The warm sun, the flowering lemon trees, the honey bees building their hives in seaside cliffs. Marzi sighed. Then, without really thinking about it, he opened his mouth wider, and slid the neck of the bottle past his lips.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks, and Kale still hadn’t let him go any further than a kiss and a bit of a grope. Although Marzi felt deliriously happy in every other regard, he’d begun to think that he’d go crazy if some part of Kale didn’t get shoved into some part of him -- and pretty damn soon, thank you very much.

Absently, Marzi swirled his tongue around the neck of the wine bottle, and then deep-throated it. Such a waste. All this talent, all this technique, and no one to appreciate it. The whole thing made about as much sense as buying a sports car just so you could park it in your garage. If Kale would only let him, Marzi knew he could show his demonic lover just what paradise might feel like. Kale had given him so much. Marzi longed for a chance to give something back.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and then the doorknob began to turn. Hastily, Marzi pulled the wine bottle out of his mouth, and rolled it under the bed. Then he sat up, and attempted to tug the wrinkles out of his shirt.

“Finally!” Kale exclaimed, as he entered Marzi’s room. “The negotiations went on forever. I thought I was going to be forced to kill someone.”

At first, Kale’s dark moods had scared Marzi. After all, when Kale said he was on the brink of killing someone, he really meant it. But, after the first few, Marzi had learned that Kale never acted in the heat of the moment, never lashed out unfairly. And would certainly never inflict his frustrations on his lover. Smiling, Marzi got to his feet, and walked over to Kale. Without speaking, he wrapped his arms around him, and pulled Kale’s body close, as if he could draw all tension from it, taking Kale’s burdens upon himself.

A soft chuckle slipped from Kale’s lips, and his goatee tickled Marzi’s cheek. “Then again, it’s almost worth being away. Just so I can come home to you.”

“I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon,” Marzi confessed, his lips brushing against Kale’s ear as he whispered into it. “Thinking about what I want to do to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Closing his eyes, allowing himself to envision every delicious detail, Marzi described a blowjob guaranteed to tease Kale into a state of sexual frenzy. When he mentioned dragging the tips of his teeth up the shaft of Kale’s cock, Kale slid his hand into Marzi’s hair, and by the time Marzi reached the part about Kale throwing him down on the bed and fucking him senseless, Kale’s grip had tightened to the point of pain. For one glorious moment, Marzi thought his seductions had finally succeeded.

But Kale’s reply crushed all his hopes. “It sounds lovely. One day soon, I hope to take you up on it.”

“Soon?” Marzi couldn’t keep the despair from his voice. “Why is it always ‘soon’? Why is it never ‘now’?”

Kale didn’t reply. Instead, he relaxed his grip on Marzi’s hair, and let the strands fall through his fingers like a flurry of dead leaves. “There are things you don’t understand.”

“I understand that I’m burning! I understand that each time you touch me, you set me on fire. And then you tell me I can’t do anything to put it out. If your intention is to give me a preview of hell, I assure you, I understand far better than I ever wanted to.”

Kale touched a finger to Marzi’s cheek. Then, with excruciating slowness, he dragged it downward – across Marzi’s throat, and along the row of shell shirt buttons, until he reached the zipper of Marzi’s crushed velvet pants. There, for a moment, he lingered. And Marzi gasped to feel Kale’s touch so close to his desire.

“Forgive me, Marzipan Penicandey. I forget that, as a human, you have certain needs. When we go out this evening, pick anyone who pleases you. I’ll see to it that they are yours for the night.”

“I don’t want anyone,” Marzi whispered. “I want you. Only you.”

Kale hesitated. Then, he smiled. “Very well.”

Touching Marzi’s shirt, Kale murmured something under his breath. Immediately, Marzi felt the silk grow warm against his skin, and thin veins of flame raced through the fabric. Marzi’s mouth opened, but no sound came. No sound existed capable of expressing the sensation of fiery mouths, licking and biting him, taking him to the very edge of pain without ever pushing him over its threshold. As if all his desire had suddenly been made physical. In a matter of seconds, the silk was nothing more than ash, and without its support, the shell buttons dropped to the floor, each clink like a tiny death cry.

For a moment, Marzi just gawked at Kale. Then he hurled himself into his lover’s arms. And, for once, Kale responded with equal passion. Tearing at each other, they staggered across the room, heedless of the various pieces of furniture which foolishly failed to get out of their way. Marzi felt his hip bang against the edge of a table. He heard a vase fall and shatter. But all that seemed far away and terribly insignificant. Especially when, with a surge of fierce strength, Kale slammed him against a wall and pinned him there, covering his face and chest with demonic kisses.

Marzi moaned, trapped in a moment of perfect ecstasy. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive. No drug, no sex, no enchantment had ever done this to him. Kale was true power. Kale was everything.

Then they were in motion again, stumbling back across the room. Unable to burn away Kale’s clothes, Marzi struggled to yank them off, with mixed success. By the time Kale pushed Marzi down on the bed, Kale’s jacket lay on the floor behind them, and his shirt hung half off him, like a partially discarded skin.

Kale stripped off the rest of his shirt. Then he climbed onto the bed, straddling Marzi, his knees on either side of Marzi’s hips. As Marzi gazed up at his lover, the crystal necklace flashed with bursts of indescribable colors -- pulsed wildly as it fought to keep up with Marzi’s racing pulse. And Marzi remembered something. Demons were not created to be demons. They were not brought into the world to serve as avatars of evil. They were simply angels who fell from heaven. Softly, Marzi offered up the only prayer he could remember. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“If I die before I wake,” Kale finished, “I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Lifting one of Marzi’s hands, he dragged his teeth across the underside of Marzi’s wrist. “Do you truly mean that, Marzipan Penicandey?”

Shudders of pleasure tore through Marzi’s body. “If you are my Lord,” he confessed, “I mean it. I mean it with all of my heart.”

Then, before Kale could reply, Marzi pulled his hand free and undid Kale’s belt buckle. With practiced fingers, he popped open the snap. Yanked down the zipper. Peeled the fabric back from what he had waited so long to taste. But as he stared at Kale’s cock, rigid and erect, Marzi froze.

A sad smile played across Kale’s lips. “I told you there were things you didn’t understand.”

A series of protrusions, like thorns or claws, ran down the length of Kale’s erection. Mesmerized, Marzi reached out and touched one. But his caress was too careless, and the tip pricked his finger, drawing a drop of bright red blood. With a yelp, Marzi yanked his hand back.

“The only physical trace of my demon heritage,” Kale explained. Sliding off the bed, he began to pull his pants back into place. “So, now you know, Marzipan Penicandey. Now you know that your lover truly is a monster.”

Marzi stared at the blood dripping from his finger. Then he looked at Kale. And what he felt was not repulsion, or horror, or even pity. It was a sharp ache, a bottomless grief -- as if he was the one who had been doomed at birth, destined to spend his life cut off from everyone around him. Lust faded, blowing away like the last dark wisps of storm clouds. And in the resulting stillness, Marzi sensed something bigger, and deeper, and more beautiful unfolding inside him. An entire garden blooming at once. “Kale—“

But Kale refused to look at him.

Rising from the bed, Marzi walked over to Kale. For a moment, he faced his lover, searching for the right words to say. Then he realized that there were no words. Instead, he dropped to his knees, his head bowed.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Kale demanded.

“I love you,” Marzi whispered. And, at that moment, the crystal heart began to emit a brilliant silver light, like some tiny door into heaven finally thrown open.

Silence. A silence that seemed to last forever. But Marzi didn’t dare look up. He just knelt, until his neck started to cramp, and the unforgiving hardness of the wooden floor made his knees ache. Finally, he felt Kale touch his face. Felt his lover guide his gaze upward. Reflections of silver light cooled the fire in Kale’s green eyes, and an expression of affection softened his normally harsh features. “I’m honored. Truly, I am. But you must admit that there are some things I cannot ask of a man. Not even a man as fine as you, Marzipan Penicandey.”

“You’re right,” Marzi agreed. “There are some things you cannot ask of a man. But a man can offer them.” Tilting his head to one side, Marzi gave Kale an irreverent smile. “Especially a man as fine as myself.”

“Are you sure, Marzi?”

Marzi flushed, touched by Kale’s first use of his more intimate name. “The night we met, I was willing to give you my life. Now that I love you, should I hesitate to offer you something so much less?”

“Then do not kneel before me.” Gently, Kale pulled Marzi to his feet. “You are my lover, not my slave.”

“I am both,” Marzi confessed. “Forever.”

With a gesture as swift as it was smooth, Kale swept Marzi into his arms, before carrying him over to the bed. And Marzi couldn’t keep himself from blushing like a bride, lifted over the threshold into her new life. Gently, Kale set him down on the mattress, and Marzi scooted over to make room for his lover. When Kale stretched out beside him, Marzi felt as if they were the only two people left in the world. Reaching over, he took Kale’s hand in his, and locked their fingers together, forming a bond he hoped no one would ever break.

For awhile, their kisses were slow, and their caresses languid, like honey dripping across flesh. Marzi opened his mouth again and again, savoring the smoky taste of Kale’s lips. Drawing Kale’s breath deep into his lungs as if it contained life itself. With the most careful of motions, they finished undressing each other. Then, Marzi lay back on the pillows, spreading his legs before Kale. “Make love to me.”

Even then, Kale seemed to hesitate. But the crystal heart continued to burn with pure silver light, untainted by doubt or fear. So Kale drew himself up onto his knees. For a long moment, Marzi gazed at his lover, and then shut his eyes, holding the image of Kale tightly behind their closed lids. No matter what came next, that was what he would see. That was what would get him through.

Ecstasy washed over Marzi as Kale worked one finger up inside of him, and then a second one. Groaning, he arched his ass against Kale’s caress. Begged for half-coherent pleasures as Kale teased him within an inch of orgasm. Then, the fingers withdrew.

“Do it,” Marzi rasped. “Do it now.”

Marzi felt Kale take hold of his legs, lifting them off the mattress. Then pain. Fierce, ripping pain. Wild instinct replaced rational thought, and despite his best intentions, Marzi thrashed to the side, fighting for escape. But Kale’s grip held strong. And the madness lasted only a moment. With a tremendous surge of willpower, Marzi managed to subdue his body. Forcing his lungs to take slow, deep breaths, he clutched at the sheets, and held himself still.

Kale thrust again. And again. A scream built in Marzi’s throat, but he fought it back. Instead, he tried to ignore what was true in his body, and only speak what was true in his heart. “Fuck me,” he grunted. “Fuck me, my love. Let me give this to you.”

Dizziness replaced pain, and Marzi opened his eyes, struggling to stay conscious. The world seemed so strange. Was it the light falling through the colored glass of the headboard which stained the sheets such a deep shade of red? Or was it the warm, sticky blood that he felt between his legs? Was he being offered as a virgin sacrifice? Or being punished for all his countless sins? Was this something so sacred that no prayer could ever describe it? Or something so profane that angels would avert their eyes?

Kale threw back his head, and a terrible cry tore from his throat, like something fleeing the very pits of hell. Shadows twisted the contours of his face. For an instant, Marzi glimpsed something terrifying, a true creature of fire and shadow. Then, it was just Kale again. Trying to be gentle as he extracted himself. Now that it was over, Marzi allowed himself a single, soft whimper.

Concern flashed across Kale’s face, and he brushed a strand of stray hair from Marzi’s eyes. “Let me get Sylvia. She can heal you.”

But Marzi shook his head, pulling Kale down beside him. “In a little. For now, I just want to feel you hold me.”

“You are truly an exceptional human, Marzi.” Obediently, Kale wrapped his arms around Marzi, cradling him against his body. The feared crime boss, the blasphemous demon. Tamed by a young man’s devotion.

Resting his cheek on Kale’s chest, Marzi smiled. And, for a moment, his hazy thoughts drifted back to a much earlier conversation. “I only wish I could do magic, like Pepper can. I only wish I could use it to serve you one more way.”

“Do you?” Kale traced the outline of Marzi’s smile, and his lips curved into a similar shape. “Well, we’ll see...”

But if Kale said anything more, Marzi didn’t hear it. Exhausted, intoxicated by a strange mixture of bliss and pain, he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.