Ambriel's wings made almost no sound in the harsh, tropical air. The sun baked his already tanned skin. He mused to himself about how he never would have guessed the only female Nephilim made her home here. It made sense, he supposed. The jungle below was beautiful and smelled intoxicating, but held untold dangers, just like her.

Through the deep, monotonous green of the rainforest, the young angel spied his destination. A sandy brown pillar contrasted sharply with its gaudy surroundings. His heart hammered in his chest. Was he really going to go through with this? Yes. Yes he was. He wanted it. He needed it. He descended in large, lazy circles. His soft shoes made no noise as he landed on the stony roof. A spiral staircase revealed itself, leading the fly deeper into the spider's web. The fly's dark blue robe fluttered behind him, occasionally brushing the tips of his wings. It was all he wore besides plain gray pants.

The stairs led to a dark room. Then they disappeared.

"Come forward."

Small, magical fires sprung up along either side of the room, bathing it in an eerie red light. Hesitantly, Ambriel moved forward. He was nearly trembling. Soon, he came to the base of a wickedly curving black throne. A lovely, curvaceous figure reclined casually across the steel arms. A skimpy, black outfit left nothing to the imagination. Her head tilted in his direction, shadowed save for glowing yellow eyes.

"Kneel."

Her voice entranced him. He was frozen. She took it as a challenge. She stood. She must have been at least a head taller than him. Her heels clicked dangerously on the marble floors.

"I said,"

She pressed her hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. His face grew hot.

"Kneel."

With ease, she sent him to the floor. His knees stung and he cried out. A spiked heel dug into his shoulders, forcing him to his elbows. Something was clamped around his neck. He reached up to feel it. It was a collar.

"Walk."

The angel dare not disobey. He crawled pitifully in the direction Fury pushed him in, straining against the taut leash. A whip cracked on his back, at the base of his right wing. He wanted to cry out, but he bit his lip to muffle his scream. Fury laughed. The young angel came to her when she was in the White City not a week ago. His proposition was an odd one, but she found it interesting. And now, here he was, crawling at her feet.

Ambriel looked up from the floor. He knew where they were headed. He could see an open door leading to a bed with ropes tied to the posts. He shuddered as his arousal grew. Today was the day that he wished he had worn softer pants. Fury all but kicked him through the door. His face smacked against the cool marble. A yell escaped him as he was yanked upwards by the joint of his wings. He shut his eyes as he was sent sailing through the air, then dropped onto the plush bed.

His eyes opened to see Fury standing at the foot of the bed. Ambriel sat up, only to be yanked down as strong ropes wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Fury laughed again - it was a seductive, breathy sound. Slowly, tantalizingly, she crawled up the bed, climbing over his thin body. His blue eyes were glued to her well-endowed chest. She came to rest on his thighs. His arousal strained against his pants, feeling her warmth just out of reach.

Her hand grabbed him through the fabric. He gasped in pain as she squeezed with a fraction of her strength.

"All male angels seem to possess the most unfortunate shortcoming of all, don't they?"

He didn't hear her. All he knew was that she was slowly sliding his pants lower and lower to reveal his member. Her fingers danced along the shaft, teasing him and heightening his arousal. She giggled when a moan greeted her ears. Just one touch and he was already about to climax. But she couldn't have that, not yet, at least.

A strangled groan filled the room as her warmth slid along his length, not accepting him inside yet. He was denied the amount of pleasure he desired. All he could do was watch as she teased herself with her own hand, head thrown back in ecstasy. Her magenta hair tumbled down her back.

She was the most beautiful creature in all of creation. Her lips were the most gorgeous shade of red, her skin a cool gray, nearly white.

Finally, after the longest torture, she slid onto his manhood. He wanted to groan, to yell out, to announce his pleasure, but he couldn't find his voice. All that remained were wordless sighs as she slowly lifted off of him, and slowly lowered back down. It was maddening. He knew his release was soon. He would never reach it as long as the Nephilim was in control. Sweat dripped off of her skin. Her broken moans betrayed her proximity to her climax.

Ambriel had to move.

Just as Fury was sliding down, he thrusted his hips up with all of his strength. She cried out. Her walls pulsed, bringing him along with her as her release came. His seed dripped out of her warmth and rolled down his length. He watched with half lidded eyes as a slim finger caught one of the thick white drops and brought it to red lips.

Ambriel tried to fight sleep. He could barely stay conscious long enough to watch the Horsewoman roll off of him and walk out of the room, leaving him tied to the bed, dreaming peacefully.


Well, I tried.

I'm thinking of starting a Darksiders story where the protagonist is a werewolf. I'm not sure who to pair her with, though. I'm leaning towards Death, because he's the hot brother.

Anyway, coming up next:

WarxUriel

StrifexHuman

DeathxHumanDust?

FuryxHuman?

?'s: Tell me if you want it. You can review anonymously, if you'd like. These stories rely heavily on your feedback.

Love you alllll!