A/N: Oh look, I wrote this awful fic for the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. I wrote this one today, but I have another one to post that I wrote a couple months ago. Just posting out of order. My bad.

WARNING: Incest

The leaders of the Hordes of Hell retreated from the throne room, leaving Sabrina alone with her father. He wore a gold robe, and leather pants, no shirt of which to speak of. Sabrina was also in gold, though the hue of the silk changed in incremental shades at the bottom of the skirt till it reached a blood red where it would touch the floor. It wasn't at all like the dress she'd had to wear for her coronation. With Hell as hers to reign, and with certain ceremonies having been met, she could now dress how she wanted.

Sabrina wouldn't be surprised though if she found out the Dark Lord had a hand in the clothes that were made for her. They were often tight around her torso, her chest, and quite revealing. Even now this dress had a v-neck that plunged down near her pelvis.

"Glad that's over with," the Dark Lord muttered, leaning against the throne.

He always took his position at her left side, something to do with left being sinful and damning as compared to right, but she wondered why another throne hadn't been built. She was Queen, but he was still King. That left strange implications swirling through her head.

"Now, my turn in the throne."

"Why, father?" she asked.

He glanced down at her, still so tall even from the magnificent seat she had.

"You know to call me daddy."

"Why, daddy?" she corrected herself.

"It's my seat too. We rule together, do we not?"

"Then have another throne built."

"I think not." He lowered a hand, brushing his fingers against her cheek, and though no one was around that she had to posture for, she leaned into it. Over the past couple of weeks she'd been growing used to her position in Hell, and how the other beings in the realm treated her. She still hadn't quite accepted that this was her father though she easily spoke of him as such. She'd grown used to his presence, even his slight affection, though there was still an anger underneath. He was her King after all, though, so perhaps it was her duty to lean into his touch. "I do enjoy seeing you sit upon this one. But, I would like my place back, if only for a moment."

Sabrina raised an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"Really? Feeling threatened?"

"Never with you, now that we… settled some things. Though, I never did punish you for locking me in that darling boyfriend of yours."

"Don't speak of him."

"Good. I don't want to. He's flesh and blood, a warlock, while I am celestial. I'm superior."

"Did your narcissism tell you that?"

The Dark Lord flashed a wicked grin at her, and then she was being whisked out of her seat by strong arms. A hard body was pressing against her, leaving her breathless, and when she realized what had happened, she was sitting in the Dark Lord's lap while he had his place on the throne. His large hand trailed down the bare skin of her torso, making her stomach flutter.

"I am."

She grabbed his hand, making it still.

"Perhaps you need to see Lilith," she told him.

A sneer contorted his handsome face.

"Lilith is no longer my concubine."

"A new one then?"

"There is no other, daughter. You are my Queen. Dare I not touch you? It is against Hell propriety for the King and Queen to not have… carnal relations."

His head dipped down, breath skimming hot against her ear, and then he was sucking on her earlobe.

Sabrina knew he was right. Caliban had suggested the same thing when they'd been talking of marriage. But she and the Dark Lord weren't married, not in the human sense at least. But perhaps in some ways they were. They ruled together, she'd given her soul to him, signed her name in his Book. So it was marriage, of an infernal sort.

If she didn't think about who he was to her she was okay with that. She had power because of this position. Why not use it? Still, she was hesitant.

"Lilith said to let no one touch me."

"Oh, she didn't mean that in the literal sense, surely," he said, voice a deep growl. "We don't need a virgin on the throne. And imagine the power we could have together, the pure energy of sex magic? We'd make Hell greater with the coming together of our bodies. And hadn't you wanted it, with Harvey, with Nick? Why not me? Why not here and now?"

"You're my father."

He grabbed her chin, having her face him, lips drawing so close to his they were almost kissing.

"Think not of your human laws and culture. We are of Hell. And is sin not the way of our realm? It would be disgraceful to not take part in such acts, my dearest daughter."

Something clicked in place when he said that. He was right, of course. With her new position, her new power, she felt it in her bones, in her soul, that he was right.

Sabrina tilted her head up just a fraction, closing the infinitesimal space between their lips. Hot power crashed through her, flooding her with sensation, pleasure, warmth. She brought a hand up to his face, holding him as they worked their soft lips together, his tongue coming out to lick at her. His hand took hold of her hip now, drawing her up against him further. His hips worked upward, and she ground down against him, though she was not ready to lose her virginity to him. They'd have to work at it.

On Earth this was wrong.

But in Hell, she knew, this was how it was supposed to be.