Flirtation Infernal
Story Summary: The Tribes of the Moon hold a wild festival to rival the bacchanalia. A fallen angel attempts to avoid participating, but curiosity drives her to flirt with danger.
Author's Note: My first attempt at something a little more adult themed; innuendo and rough foreplay abound. Enjoy!
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"Damn you, Loki," the angel muttered into the impenetrable gloom as she stumbled and fell against the rocky tunnel wall.
The worst part of Falling was not pain. It was not the indefinite exile. It was not even mortality. Oh no, it was Loki's accursed expression of unconcealed fiendish delight when Gabriel had charred her pinion feathers to ash and flung her from on high.
This was his fault. It had been nothing but a game to Loki, merely an amusement to relieve his boredom when he preyed on her curiosity and trust. Draping an arm around her shoulders, he had convinced her in the low amiable tones of a god speaking to the representative of another that experiencing the humans' bacchanalia rites would be a far more valuable learning experience than simply observing.
Ambriel had little recollection of the whirlwind of wine-fueled chaos and debauchery. She did not even remember leaving; only that she had returned to the heavens leaning drunkenly on Loki, draped in the garlands of a pagan festival, streaked in blood, and reeking of alcohol.
In his blazing fury Gabriel had not waited for her explanation. Before she had fully registered the horror of her scorched wings Ambriel had found herself plummeting towards the earth with the thundering wind and Loki's maniacal laughter shrieking in her ears. The terror and confusion of hurtling down, tumbling amidst the useless disarray of her floundering wings, had been nothing compared to the explosive agony of impact.
Her punishment could have been much more severe: Gabriel could have sent her straight to the capitol city of Hell. And though she would never fly again unless the archangel decided to rescind her exile, banishment was not so bad; as Ambriel had quickly learned since her first flirtation with passion and revelry, mortals knew how to throw a party.
Such as Midian's current festivities.
Ambriel cast a wary eye along the deserted earthen passage. Damp-loving phosphorescent moss clung to the roughhewn walls, glowing faintly but doing very little to dispel the thick concealing shadows. She was not so much afraid of darkness as she was of what could be lurking in it. And she was certain something—or more accurately someone—was skulking nearby in the labyrinthine tunnels and caverns that made up the underground city.
Outcasts and oddities of every race human, once-human, monstrous, supernatural, and otherwise hurried through the subterranean maze of Midian in a constant harlequin parade of nightmare and wonder as they went about their business. To the denizens of the murky underworld Ambriel was just the newest curiosity; most were simply content to stare at the ethereal fallen angel standing out in stark white clothing against the city's mud and adobe.
Except for today. Today all bets were off and she had fled the madness of the city's main caverns for the relative safety offered by the disused peripheral tunnels. But even here she was not safe; she knew she was being hunted.
But I am also a hunter, she thought. Pray I do not find you first...!
Swiftly she moved through the labyrinth, her wingtips lightly brushing dirt from the walls as she turned corners and doubled back on her path, hoping to either evade or catch her pursuer unaware. At an intersection of three tunnels the skin between her shoulders prickled with warning as the short feathers stood on end. Goosebumps raced across her neck and arms; someone was close. Heart pounding Ambriel stopped and backed up against the nearest wall, carefully peering into the gloom and fervently wishing she had better night vision. Around her all of the passages yawned dark and empty. Unsettled, she suppressed the instinct to run and continued to steadily edge backwards, putting distance between her and whoever was stalking her in the shadows.
Behind her the softest whisper of fabric betrayed the hunter's position. Ambriel gasped and tensed to run but the darkness grew powerful arms and taloned fingers that wrapped around her, trapping her wings and arms at her sides and pinning her against a body that was solid and undeniably male. Ambriel struggled against him but it was useless: he simply held her tighter in a grip as unyielding as steel.
"Damn you!" Ambriel yelled. "Which of you is it?"
A blast of hot breath hit the back of her neck as he gave vent to a hearty laugh. "Such language! Little wonder you were thrown out of heaven."
Ambriel sighed in exasperation. "Lude! You know I had no intention of participating in your festival."
He chuckled, the sound as soft and sinful as black velvet. "You participated the moment you ran, angel."
Twisting in his grip, Ambriel turned her head at an awkward angle so she could look at him. Lude's demonic face leered out of the greenish dimness, his lips parted in a triumphant grin that revealed the ivory of his pointed canines. Short white spiraling horns protruded from his forehead, standing out sharply against his dark blue-grey skin.
"I did not run!" Ambriel protested, fixing him with a stern gaze. "I left to find somewhere to wait until this—this orgiastic insanity is over."
Lude raised one thin dark eyebrow and smirked. "Do not pretend to disapprove. I know you Fell for taking part in the bacchanalia and therefore know something of passion." Ambriel blushed deeply and he winked cheekily before continuing, "And as for our festival…you know anyone may decline but they must remain shut in until its conclusion. Anyone wandering the city is fair game, and that includes you creeping about in these tunnels. You knew what you were doing. Besides…did you not also pursue me in the darkness when you realized you were being followed?"
"Yes, I suppose I did, but—"
Radiating smugness he pressed his face very close to hers so that his curving lips nearly brushed her skin. "We hunted, you hunted, you ran, and I caught you. We win. The hunters claim their prize."
Ambriel was searching in vain for some way to refute his argument when she realized an important detail. "…we?"
Lude's smile widened. "But of course. I chose to hunt as part of a team this year. Peloquin!"
A fair distance down the passageway a shadow detached itself from the wall and sauntered towards them, gradually revealing itself as a tall crimson-skinned male wearing a long dark leather coat. Instead of hair several long dreadlock-like tentacles draped about his face, casting deep shadows into the hollows of his high cheekbones.
"Catch a pretty little bird did you, Lude?" Peloquin asked, grinning. His emerald green eyes flashed eerily, reflecting the dim light as he turned his predatory, hungry gaze on Ambriel. "Did I not tell you when this began that if I caught you, you would be mine?"
"Ours," Lude interjected.
Peloquin tipped his head in acknowledgement. "Ours. Pity you didn't capture one of us; I'd have loved to see what you decided to do when you discovered we came as a pair…But as enjoyable as that would have been, neither Lude nor I am disappointed."
"Oh no, not at all," Lude agreed. He nuzzled his dark face into the soft feathers of her wings, taking care not to jab her with his horns.
"In fact…I'm rather pleased with the outcome. What about you, angel?" Peloquin purred like some gigantic, pleased cat as he twined his red fingers into her golden hair. Slowly, deliberately, he moved in closer and pressed his front flush against hers.
Caught between Lude and Peloquin, feeling their heat and the sensation of their bodies close against her, Ambriel fought to control the blush spreading across her cheeks and lost spectacularly. Infernal the pair might appear, but they were painfully attractive and charismatic in their own way.
Peloquin chuckled. "That's what I thought, Ambriel. For all your protesting, when it comes down to it, you wanted us to catch you."
"Not really," she replied, smiling, "but I am finding the idea more and more appealing."
"So if we let go, you promise not to run?"
Lude's sharp teeth nibbled at the edge of her ear and Ambriel gasped, arching towards him in an open invitation. Absolutely nothing above, on, or below the earth would make her turn down this enticing opportunity. "I promise. But…"
"What? You're in no position to be making demands," Lude teased.
"…don't let go?"
Peloquin raised his eyebrows in surprise, but his roguish leer returned in an instant. "Now that's a request I'm willing to grant. Lude?"
"With pleasure," he growled, gripping her fiercely and digging his claws into her arms just firmly enough to make it clear there would be no escape.
Ambriel's breath caught in her throat as Peloquin's red fingers curled possessively around her long pale neck, his flesh blood red and hellishly hot against her cool skin. He bared his teeth in a wicked promise.
"Don't fear, angel," Peloquin breathed, his voice low and smooth as silk, "You can be sure we won't let go until we're finished with you…"
Tightening his grip on her throat he abruptly lunged forward, lasciviously trailing his obscenely long tongue from her jaw to her eye. He pulled back slightly and licked at his lips in a totally depraved, incredibly intoxicating way. Ambriel's heart quickened at the sight and finally she could contain her desire no longer. Managing to surge forward despite Lude's strength she buried her teeth in the muscular curve of Peloquin's neck where it met his shoulder, leaving a quickly darkening bruise and drawing a feral rumble from his throat.
"For that I'm going to make you whimper," he murmured passionately.
Ambriel shivered as his hot breath ghosted over her ear. Recklessly she decided to tempt fate, just for the hell of it. "Go ahead and try," she challenged, fixing him with defiant green eyes.
For a moment Peloquin's expression was amused, and then he seized Ambriel's long hair and tugged, forcing her head back so she was staring up at the earthen tunnel ceiling. Now it was difficult for her to breathe; Peloquin savored the sound of her panting and gasping as his teeth made a wandering path of red marks along her neck and shoulders. Behind her Lude pulled at her white halter-top, and her back tingled in anticipation as the sensitive skin below her wings was exposed to his long nails while his slender devil's tail unhurriedly snaked its way up her thigh…