Hey guys, I got something for you...I hope you're gonna like it... If I knew before I wrote this that it would be this exhausting, I would have gotten more sleep first.

Warnings: READ THE WARNINGS. HEED THE WARNINGS. Smut. Like, SMUT. Language. Fear play. Breath play. Fingering. Electrostimulation. Sadomasochism. Praise kink. Voice kink. Bondage. Impact play. Knife play. Blood play. Rough sex. Some dub-con undertones. Can't stress enough how risky some of this is, so remember to read up on "Safe, Sane, Consensual" and don't try this at home. Seriously. Don't like, don't read. Hallelujah, praise Chuck, let's get this show on the road!

One day you will see

And dare to come down to me

Yeah, come on, come on, now

Take a chance

That's right, let's dance

Metallica, "Devil's Dance"

My pulse was too quick to count the beats and my head was spinning out of control. Crowley smiled at me one more time and grabbed hold of my wrist, and then we were...gone. There was a brief moment when I ceased to exist as a being unto myself, my corporeal form dissolving into the fabric of space, then I was whole again. Though when I looked around me, I wasn't in my living room anymore. I wasn't sure what I expected Hell to look like, but it certainly wasn't this. The penthouse suites in the high rise hotels I'd spent my last week in weren't as swanky as this.

We were in a foyer with marble-tiled flooring that gave way to gleaming hardwood and plush carpets. It looked to be part reception hall, part sitting room, lounge seating at one end and an elegant piano at the other. The walls were hung with art; on closer look, the paintings and photos were either familiar pieces with slight corruptions or, in some cases, the originals themselves, and I could only guess how those ended up in Crowley's collection. The far wall was nothing but glass, a wide, seamless window with curtains pulled back to reveal a distorted view outside, though on our arrival Crowley snapped his fingers and the curtains drew shut.

"It's a...nice place you have here," I commented lightly, trying not to sound scared or eager.

"It pays to be in charge, love," he told me. He slid off his overcoat and flung it onto a coat stand I was quite sure hadn't been there the entire time, hands sliding into his pockets as he strolled farther into the room. The arrogance that usually surrounded him had shifted. He emanated power, grace, control, and the danger he accused me of craving. Seeing the change that came over him as soon as we stepped into his domain, I had to admit how right he was, though it didn't stop the fear stirring inside me. Here, he was in control, and he could do whatever he wanted to me.

"Now, then," he said, turning to look at me, still standing agape in the foyer, "why don't we see how well you negotiate?"

"Uh, negotiate?" I repeated, confused. "Meaning?"

"Oh, come on, pet, I thought you were clever. You want another deal. I want payment. Convince me not to throw you in with the rest of the damned and we'll see what it gets you. Or, stand there gawking like a complete idiot and I'll have you in line to be flayed and stuck listening to the best of the Backstreet Boys for the rest of eternity before you can say 'Bye Bye Bye.'"

"That's N'Sync," I corrected him. "If you're going to threaten me, at least know what you're on about before you make yourself sound like the idiot."

He regarded me for a moment and I was sure my cheekiness had done me in before he gave me a small nod of approval. "Depending on how this goes," he said, "you'll either be rewarded for that smart mouth, or punished most severely."

"Just...how severe, exactly?"

He didn't answer, only glancing at me and smiling, and my heart pounded hard enough to hurt. "You look so nervous, sweetheart. You knew ten years ago, this day was coming."

"It-" My throat was dry. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath before trying again, "It seems like more time at the outset, and even then, I...didn't exactly picture anything like this."

"Reneging on our deal by trying to con your way onto the throne?" he asked. "Or in my rooms waiting for me to decide what to do to you first?"

"Crowley, I-"

"First of all, love, you need to learn who the top dog is around here," he cut in swiftly, his voice slicing through me. There was a surge of energy through the room, of power, and something forced me to my knees on the tiled floor. I gasped in surprise but the noise was cut short and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I felt the aura of his powers but had no idea if he was controlling my lungs or the air itself, and it didn't really matter because I couldn't breathe. I was on hands and knees, mouth hanging open, watching him stand there unmoved as I suffocated in front of him, completely and utterly powerless.

My head felt fuzzy and my vision was starting to go black when he finally released me and I nearly collapsed, pulling oxygen back into my body in heaving gasps. My knees shook and my legs wobbled as I got back to my feet, only to be shoved to the floor again. I looked up at Crowley and struggled against the power holding me, gathering my magic to push at his, but he didn't even flinch. He raised a hand and clenched into a fist, and I felt a tight grip at my throat, keeping me in place.

"You're stubborn, I'll give you that," he said, "but you need to understand, you wear my collar. I hold the leash. I could turn you over to whatever torture I bloody well like, or I could just-" He snapped his fingers and the piano at the end of the room exploded into flames. I cringed at the sight and there was that gleam of satisfaction in his eyes again as he started towards me. "You want to be queen," he went on, his footsteps echoing softly under the smoky cadence of his voice, "and you think you can get what you want with some entry-level Ponzi scheme cooked up between you and that whore, and I'll just take the table scraps you use as bait and that'll be the end of it. Like a dream come true." He stopped in front of me so I knelt at his feet and the grip on my throat relaxed; he reached out to comb his fingers through my hair and I tensed in reaction, not expecting the gentle touch.

"You see, darling," he said, his voice as tender as his fingers, "I know what you really dream of, what you really desire..." Those tender fingers twisted harshly into my hair and his eyes flashed red again, and fear blazed through me like wildfire. The red faded once more and he finished, "And it's not a throne."

Once again, I found myself breathless and he was to blame, though this time he'd done it with his hands and his words, holding either promise or threat and I couldn't tell which. Adrenaline left me shaking, wondering just what in the hell was about to happen and reminded just how completely in control he was.

"Your proposal," he said, releasing me and abruptly stepping away from me, sounding businesslike. "You're not the first to come to me with one like it. As shocking as it sounds, there's never a shortage of demons willing to turn on each other for personal gain. Myself included. As turner and turned-on." He paused, hearing his own words, then went on, "Or rather, turnee. Who knows. Doesn't matter. The point is, what makes you so different from them, that I should consider this?"

"I'm-" I coughed and took several deep breaths, still winded as I got to my feet. "I'm damned," I tried again. "All I have ahead of me is your infinite queue, at best, unless you decide to get more creative. Your demons don't have that hanging over them."

"No," he agreed. "I usually just kill them."

"Better a quick death than eternal torment," I countered quickly.

"You're right. I'll be sure to torture traitors from now on with no more merciful executions."

"Well, now..." My mind raced, trying to answer with sharper logic he couldn't pick apart so easily.

He smirked at me. "Best think quickly, love. I'm a busy guy, and this meeting is already into overtime."

"Then how about...a spell? One to bind me to you, or make me incapable of lying to you or betraying you?"

"You'd make yourself my puppet? I doubt that."

"You wouldn't, to avoid the Pit?"

"Darling, if I avoided the Pit, I wouldn't be where I am today, now, would I?"

"You need somebody. Counterintelligence, something, you have too many gunning for your spot not to have an ace up your sleeve-"

"And that's you, is it? What do you have up your sleeve that I need?"

"I trained with Rowena-"

"Remind me of that one more time, and I'll have you eating your own entrails for the next ten years."

"I'm strong," I persisted. "I know my own power, I know how to keep a low profile, I know how to make people underestimate me."

"And all of that simply convinces me that I need to bury you in the deepest, loneliest, most wardiest hole I can find and set a dog or several dozen to stand guard," he argued. "Is this how you negotiate? This is no way to do business! And you're surprised you wound up stepping in this pile of horse sh-"

"I'm a weapon, or you wouldn't be worried. And you need me, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. What do you want from me to prove myself?"

"You still haven't told me why I should trust you."

"I have too much to lose to-"

"Not that line again," he broke in sharply, and I felt the heat of his power rising around me. "I didn't buy it the first time and it doesn't get more appealing with age. You fancy yourself so bloody clever, you should know the answer. How. Do I know. To trust you?"

I stood quietly looking into his human eyes, seeing them turn red in my memory. I did know the answer, reluctant as I was to admit it. "Because you know what I really want," I replied slowly, "and it's not a throne."

He waited for me to elaborate and when I didn't, he slowly started towards me again, one careful step after another while the heat around him grew more intense. "And what do you want?" he prompted. "I'll hear you say it, sweetheart, or it's Downstairs you go."

Every breath shivered its way into my lungs while my heart raced and my skin prickled with goosebumps. Every moment of our encounter had had me thrown completely off course with no idea what to expect, sparking a bone-deep fear that twisted into an unsettling excitement. And he knew. He knew exactly how I was reacting and why, and all I could do was answer truthfully.

"I want...I want the danger. Everything you said earlier. That's all I want."

We stood nearly toe to toe by now, so close the heat of his magic was like touching fire. I had never felt magic like his before; Rowena's affinity was for air and her power always felt like wind moving across my skin, I had met several witches aligned with earth who felt like everything from trickles of sand to solid stone, and my own water affinity moved through me as a river steady in its course to the sea. And I had felt power rooted in fire before, but all of it was a matchstick in a hurricane compared to what I could feel from Crowley. If I tested my gift against him, I had no doubt I would evaporate into oblivion with a snap of his fingers.

The thought made my knees weak and my body shake, and whether it was fear or arousal or both made no difference.

"I've heard the rumors about you," he told me, his voice barely raised above a whisper as he lifted his hand to glide his fingers across my throat and chest left bare above the neckline of my dress. His touch felt like hot wax rolling over my skin and I gasped aloud, leaning toward him before I was even conscious of it. "Juicy stuff, darling. I can't help but wonder how much of it is true..."

"Whatever-whatever you want," I answered breathlessly as his fingers moved up along my jaw and through my hair and I melted wherever he touched me. "Anything you want..."

"I could use you," he said, staring down into my eyes and still running his fingers through my hair while I felt a hot, searing grip around my throat again, tight enough to suggest the threat. "I could do terrible things to you and you'd love every second, wouldn't you? I could hurt you, break you, and you'd beg for more of it, for me to please you and break you over and over again..." He rested his free hand on my hip and moved down my leg, reaching under the hem of my dress to run his fingers up the inside of my thigh, and my legs almost gave way beneath me as I felt fire in my skin and electricity in my muscles.

"You like that, don't you," he said, leaning down to murmur next to my ear, his hands on my body and his magic at my throat, and the push-pull of pleasure and pain sent tingles racing through me. "I've seen into your mind. I know everything you want me to do to you, every single dark, twisted, sinful, glorious thing..." His hand under my dress paused at the edge of my panties and I clutched at the lapel of his jacket, nearly frantic with suspense. "Tell me what you want, pet," he murmured, "or you'll get nothing."

The heat of his fire was so intense that I drew the water of the air around me as a shield on instinct, only to feel our combined energy ripple like steam and he was still burning me. The electricity in his fingers had my entire body humming with live current and only too late did I realize how it would be amplified by my power. Already, the tingling had grown into a sharp tension that was more and more acute. He had me on a razor's edge between ecstasy and agony, precisely balanced, and it was exactly where I wanted to be.

"Tell me," he repeated, and there was a surge of power like two wires completing a circuit and I felt as if I had been struck by a bolt of lightning, focused with greatest intensity where his hand met my skin. And it hurt, but it was exhilarating, and I cried out loud, "You! I want you!"

"What do you want from me, darling," he asked, and there was a warning prickle before the second surge and my body bowed into him. "Fuck!" I burst out, my voice rising until I was nearly screaming. "Crowley, please, fuck me! Anything you want, just fuck me!"

He smiled at me and slipped his fingers into my underwear, two digits thrusting in and out of my slick cunt while the heel of his hand moved against my clit, and the lightning was reduced to that initial tingle that had me tense and contracted and already so overwhelmed with sensation that I was hurtling breathlessly toward climax with no hope of slowing down, the balance ever more precarious, almost over the edge-

There was another jolt of lightning that snatched me back, white hot and razor sharp and arcing through me with a flash, ripping a scream from me as the release I sought was exchanged with pain.

It passed and I would have fallen to the floor had his magic not held me up. The same power that kept me on my knees earlier now steadied me on my feet, and Crowley cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing at the tears pooling in my eyes. "I bet that hurt, didn't it, love?" he asked.

I nodded, trembling.

"But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

I paused, checking in with myself, caught between the high of ecstasy, the bite of pain, the frustration of denial, and the way they all twisted together with one building off the other.

"Answer me."

"Yes. I did."

The heat around him mellowed into a warmth that was almost comforting. One of his thumbs traced along my bottom lip, his face barely an inch from mine, and I glanced between his mouth and his eyes, my heart skipping several beats. He leaned closer, his lips almost touching mine, pausing there for a moment before he whispered, "Good girl."

A tiny moan broke from me and I could feel my body reacting, slick pooling between my legs, and whether it was the words he spoke or the dark smoke he said them with that had me so wet and desperate was beyond me. And before I could figure it out I felt a moment of nonexistence, then I noticed the room.

My first thought was of an opium den, with dim light, a hazy atmosphere, and heavy drapes over the walls while the smell of burning hung in the air. Then I realized the burning was incense, something heady and spicy, and through the dim light I could make out an armoire, a chaise, a liquor cabinet, and a four-poster bed. We were in Crowley's bedroom.

He stepped away from me, unbuttoning his suit jacket and throwing it off, discarding it carelessly on the chaise before waving his hand. A fire crackled to life on the hearth along one wall, along with several sconces, and a handful of lamps paned with red glass suspended from the ceiling. I looked around me, taking in the ornate woodwork and the silk hangings, then he snapped his fingers and I felt the zipper down my back begin a slow descent. I turned my eyes back to him and he was loosening his tie with one hand, gaze riveted on me in appraisal. Without my assistance, the straps of my dress slipped off my shoulders and it kept going, working its way down my body to land in a puddle of fabric at my feet. I moved reflexively to cover myself, but something restrained me, keeping my arms at my sides.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked, and underneath the commanding superiority I heard a note of genuine solicitude in his voice.

I drew a deep breath, calming my shaky nerves, and shook my head. "I haven't."

"Good." He unbuttoned his cuffs and turned back his sleeves a few times, glancing over me in my bra and underwear. "Take those off."

I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, letting it slide down my arms and hit the floor before pushing my underwear down my hips to fall beside the rest of my clothes. I nudged them aside with my foot before looking back up at Crowley, watching me in silence, his eyes moving up and down my body. Nervous as I was, I hoped...I hoped I was appealing enough for him...

"No glamours, love?" he asked. "That's usually one of the first things witches go for."

I shrugged. "I'd rather embrace who I am."

He smiled. "Music to my ears, darling." He stepped closer and raised his hand, running the back of his fingers down the side of my face, fingertips brushing along my throat, tracing my collarbones, moving down to my breasts, his touch so light it stirred goosebumps along my skin. I never took my eyes from his face, watching him follow his hands across my body for a few moments before flicking his gaze back up to mine. "Rope or handcuffs?"

"What?" I asked.

"Personally, I prefer the aesthetic of chains," he went on, "but I've neglected to oil them lately, and frankly, rust ruins the whole look." He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for my response. "Do you have a preference?"

"Um...yeah," I replied slowly. "I like rope..."

"Excellent choice." Much as the wine glass had appeared earlier in my living room, there was a coil of rope in his hands and I couldn't have said when it got there. "Give me your hands."

I hesitated a moment, then held out my hands obediently, my heart racing all over again. He looped the rope around my wrists, cinching it snugly, then released the remaining coil and it twisted into the air, leading my hands with it and guiding my arms above and behind my head. It kept going, knotting and splitting into multiple cords, wrapping between my legs with a strand secured directly along my cunt, a strategically placed knot just below my clit.

"Maybe," I said, "maybe we should discuss a safe word..."

Crowley had been watching the rope, directing its course with his eyes, but he responded readily. "Oh, right, suppose we should. How about...'no deal.'" His eyes met mine, giving me a long, serious look. "Do you understand?"

I felt cold all over. I thought I knew what he was getting at; if I called things to a halt he would stop, but I would forfeit my chance at avoiding damnation. Take what he gave me, or face Hell; was that the end game? He knew the risk was part of the rush for me, and he could have been playing into that...but he had also avoided any kind of agreement in that regard. Was this part of the play, or was he serious?

The rope kept moving, twining and crossing my torso to fasten around my breasts before snaking back over my shoulders to finish with another pass around my wrists, and only once I could no longer pay attention to the rope did I notice the energy humming around my body again, keeping me balanced and standing. I moved a little against my bonds and felt the burn of them everywhere, and the knot brushing against my clit made me gasp aloud.

Crowley circled me like prey, examining his handiwork and nodding slowly. "I think we're both going to enjoy this," he said, his voice soft and dark, that tone of satisfaction already working away at me. He stepped away from me, crossing the room to one of the walls covered by drapes, and at a gesture they moved aside to reveal a collection of whips, riding crops, floggers, canes, paddles, and what I could have sworn was a tennis racket. He surveyed the options for a moment, taking his time and giving me plenty of opportunity to see what was going on, before taking down a bull whip, a flogger, and a long feather.

My mouth was dry and I didn't know if I was more nervous or excited. Crowley turned back to me with a calculating look, flexing the braided leather in his hands and walking around me, stopping behind me where I couldn't see him. I felt him lean close and he murmured, "Stay on your feet."

I had no time to react before I heard the whip crack, the snap echoing through the room, and I flinched. The rope was just coarse enough that it burned my skin wherever my movement strained against it, but nowhere as intensely as at my cunt, harsh enough to sting but the friction against my clit making me moan and curse. I felt the soft brush of the feather across my back, along my arms, down my sides, over my ass and legs; the tickly sensation had me shivering and squirming and the rope added even more until I had to focus to stay standing.

He kept teasing me, cracking the whip and stroking me with the feather, the auditory and tactile mismatch throwing me off center. He had yet to use the flogger and I didn't know if, or when, he planned to, but the suspense of waiting for the first blow heightened my awareness of the whip in my ears, the feather on my body, the rope against my skin, and it slowly overwhelmed me, pleasure rising higher and higher...

The whip cracked close enough to my ear that my hair stirred and I felt, not the feather, but the leather thongs of the flogger on my ass. Crowley knew what he was doing. Both of them barely touched me, and I was losing my mind, heart racing and head spinning and body reacting to each and every sensation, fear, excitement, pain, arousal. I was so terrified, so turned on, and it was exhilarating.

"You like that, don't you, pet?" he asked, and suddenly he was in front of me, watching me with that knowing smirk. "I'll have to see how much." He reached between my legs and slid his fingers inside me, my body welcoming his intrusion. I moaned from deep in my chest at the feeling of his fingers playing with my clit, reaching farther to my g-spot, and I was so wet he moved with no resistance. He curled a finger against my g-spot while his thumb circled my clit, and my legs finally gave out so I crumpled at his feet.

"I told you to stay on your feet," he said, his voice sharp and stern. He looked down at me, his eyes burning holes through my skin while he licked his fingers clean of me, and a shiver rolled down my spine at the sight. "You disobeyed me, pet. What am I supposed to do with you now?"

I opened my mouth, but only a needy whine escaped before he cut me off. "Speak when I tell you to. Understood?"

"Ye-" A hot grip closed around my throat, the reply stifled in an instant.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he demanded, tightening the pressure at my throat.

I paused, then shook my head silently.

He clicked his tongue scoldingly, a soft tsk tsk against his teeth as he slowly shook his head. "Naughty naughty," he taunted. "Good girls do as they're told. Bad girls, well...they take their punishment one way or another." A snap of his fingers and the ropes fell away, and the flogger was back in his hand. "All fours," he ordered. "Now."

My entire body trembled as I obeyed, getting on my hands and knees and hardly daring to breathe. He was done teasing, and I didn't know how far he was planning to go to break me.

On all fours like a dog, as he commanded, hands and knees spread to try and brace myself, and my mind shrieked with fright but the slick heat, the ache between my legs, defied my fear. I could do it myself, make myself come with a few strokes of my fingers, but what would he do to me then?

"You wouldn't like it," he said, responding as if he heard my thoughts. "And yes, I did," he went on. "Can. I can hear every thought in your head, pet. Every single word. So don't even think of disobeying me." He adjusted his grip on the flogger and walked around me where I presented the most intimate parts of my body in one view. "Scream if you want, though you probably will anyway. I'll make sure of that." And he struck me with the flogger.

I recoiled at the impact, the sting of the leather against my ass biting deep, clenching my teeth to keep from crying out. He hit me again, the second blow landing like fire, and a wail rose in my throat, my fingers digging into the pile of the rug on the floor beneath me. I broke on the third, nearly collapsing and letting out a loud, long scream of pain. He didn't stop, didn't even slow down, one stroke after another. His pace was measured, giving me just enough time to adjust to one lash before dealing a fresh one. Tears poured from my eyes and my throat felt raw from screaming, and it was all I could do to stay put and resist curling in a ball on the floor.

And I loved it. His dominance, the fear I felt waiting for each blow, the pain itself... Blood pounded hard in my veins, settling into a throbbing ache in my core and my cunt was practically dripping, needy, ready, waiting...

He paused, and I heard him speak. "You really are enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, sounding mildly surprised.

I nodded, still weeping.

"Speak."

"Yes," I answered tremorously.

"Open your legs."

I carefully planted my knees farther apart, further exposing myself to him, desperate for him to be inside me. His fingers, his cock, something. I felt his hand against one of my stinging cheeks, his palm simply resting on my heated flesh while his other hand reached between my legs, a fingertip brushing the length of my entrance and soaking in my juices.

"Well, bugger me," he remarked. "My little pet likes to take her punishment, don't you, sweetheart? Answer me, now."

"Yes," I replied, staring down at the floor and longing to lean back onto that finger, to beg him for release.

He patted my ass gently, that finger still passing back and forth while I squirmed and whined. "I don't know, love... Do you think you deserve to come?"

I opened my mouth to answer, then realized just in time to close my mouth and nod silently.

That mellow warmth surrounded me again and I heard his satisfied hum. "That's my good girl..."

I couldn't hold back a shiver, or the way the praise made me wetter than ever, and he noticed both. "Oh, you like that too, do you? You like to hear what a good, well-behaved little lamb you are? Tell me, darling..."

"I do," I answered. "I do like it..."

"I thought so." He lifted his hands away and I made a tiny noise of discontent; he replied, "Poor thing, I'm being so harsh on you, aren't I? After you've done so much to make me happy... And yes, pet, you've made me very happy," he added, answering my unspoken question. "You challenge me, and I like that. You also know when to do as you're told, and I like that even more. And you understand the beauty of pain, and I think I like that the best. So, yes, I certainly think you've earned something..."

He knelt beside me, running his hand up along my spine, sending electric currents through my muscles. His fingers tangled in my hair and I felt him lean close to my ear, murmuring softly, "Touch yourself, darling. Show me how good you can fuck yourself with your fingers."

I let out an obscene moan and reached for my clit, stroking feverishly before moving inside to tease my g-spot, alternating back and forth between the two. I closed my eyes briefly, crumbling under the pleasure building up inside me, and when I opened them again Crowley stood before me, staring down at me, watching me with a dark, hungry look in his eyes. "That's it," he purred at me, "that's my sweet girl... Feels good, doesn't it? All the better after taking your punishment so well."

My entire body shook, his words spoken in that low rasp nearly finishing me off. He crouched down in front of me, taking my chin in his hand and turning my face up to his. "Almost there, darling. Keep going, make me proud..."

A low cry built in my throat and I moved faster, I was so close, so fucking close, his encouragement pushing me farther and farther-

"Stop."

His hand tightened on my chin and I froze at his command, unable to move though I would have been unable to keep from it, if he hadn't held me in place. I cried out in frustration, ready to fly apart into pieces. "Please," I begged, "please..."

"Sorry, love," he said, getting to his feet. "I changed my mind." And he whistled.

My blood ran cold. There was a low, menacing growl from...somewhere, followed by an angry snarl that almost made my heart stop instantaneously. Crowley's power forced me to my feet and he stood behind me, my back against his chest with his arm wrapped tight around my waist, holding me prisoner. "Have you met my Juliet?" he asked amiably. "Good bloodlines. Ate the rest of her litter mates as they were coming out of her mum. I've been training her since her eyes opened."

I hardly paid attention to what he was saying, hearing the hellhound growl and snap as it moved around the room, completely unable to see it as I cried again, tears of pure unalloyed terror.

Crowley brushed my hair away from my ear and leaned closer. "Shall I introduce you? She's perfectly safe, honest. She won't bite unless I tell her to, or unless she gets a scent. Fear is a strong one, she loves that one. But it's fresh blood that really tickles her bits." His left hand closed over my wrist, turning my palm skyward, and he changed the grip of his right hand to fasten around something, a knife appearing as he did so.

The hound growled again and I felt something brush past me, something enormous, but I was too petrified to notice anything beyond its size, or the stench of sulfur and rotting meat around it. Crowley ran the point of the knife across my palm, softly at first then with more pressure. "She's an alpha among the hounds, you know," he went on. "Biggest, strongest, most vicious... I've had to mop up what's left of the souls she brings down here more times than I can count..."

I felt his hand hold my wrist tighter, the knife still moving over my palm. "I've been working with her lately," he added, "trying to bring her to heel, keep her on task even when she's got the scent. Care to lend me a hand? No pun intended?"

My mind was screaming at me, no deal, no deal, but the words died in my throat. This was it, wasn't it? Was he going to give me to the hound? With or without the safe words? Were the safe words themselves a trap? A fog of panic crept in at the edges of my mind and if I didn't do something, anything...

I angled my hand against the point of the knife and pressed hard enough to break the skin and he took the hint, slicing across my palm. The cut was shallow but the pain was...well, it was beautiful, excruciating agony transformed into euphoric bliss as the endorphins flooded my system. I stared down at the blood welling in the cut, a deep crimson in a shade so rich that my skin looked drab in comparison.

Crowley released the knife, which promptly vanished, and ran his finger along the cut, smearing the blood over my palm. I raised my hand, letting it trickle down my arm and over the fingers he still had wrapped around my wrist, and the hellhound snarled again as the scent hit the air.

"Come here, girl," Crowley beckoned to it. "Come to Papa..." He extended my arm forward and I resisted for a moment, then slowly gave in, using all of my willpower to stay calm. "There's a good girl," he praised, then turned to me. "Go on, sweetheart, say hello." He paused, then added so softly I could have imagined it, "I dare you."

I closed my eyes, then reached out, feeling the beast's hot breath across my skin, the smell of it nearly choking me. My hand shook as I reached through the empty air, searching blindly...until I brushed fur. I nearly snatched my hand back but Crowley held me still. "No sudden moves," he advised. "She doesn't startle easily, but she doesn't like surprises..."

My eyes were shut tight but tears pushed their way out from under my lids. My head spun again and my knees weakened; I thought I was about to faint. My heart raced harder than ever and I forced myself to take a breath and steady my hand, holding it out to the hound. Those growls fell on my ears like distant thunder and the air around my hand stirred as it-she-sniffed my fingers, nosing at my cut palm. I didn't dare move at first, working up my courage and half afraid she would tear my arm off, then slowly touched her again, the thick fur slightly greasy, and so hot...

"Easy, now," Crowley soothed, and I couldn't tell if he was talking to me or the hound. "Easy does it..." He pressed closer to me until I could feel every inch of his body along mine, and I found myself leaning back into his embrace. "That's it, my lovely girls..."

I whimpered softly, then held my hand flat to the hound, the cut beginning to clot at the edges. She sniffed again, her growls quieted a bit, and I felt her warm, wet tongue lapping at the blood. I let out a long breath, sagging with relief. "Good girl..."

Behind me, Crowley suddenly tightened his hold on me, his body rigid and tense. I turned away from Juliet, glancing over my shoulder at him. "Is something wrong?"

His eyes were hungry, burning into me as he stared. "Bloody hell," he moaned softly, then leaned down and kissed my neck.

I gasped at the rush, no fire or electricity but a different heat coursing through me. My earlier frustration came flooding back and I ground my hips back into his, feeling his cock pressing into me, and I suddenly remembered the story of what he sold his soul for when he was still human.

From my perspective, the story hardly did the truth justice.

"Juliet, stay," he ordered sharply, turning me in his arms and pushing me back, and before I knew it I was tumbling backwards onto his bed ten feet across the room. He stood between my knees at the edge of the mattress, taking hold of my legs and pulling me closer to him. Every nerve in my body sang as he ran his hands over me, consuming each and every curve with each and every touch. I threaded my hands through his hair as he bent low and followed his hands with his mouth, lips moving across my breasts, belly, and hips. I leaned up into his mouth wherever he went, eyes shut and head thrown back, breathing heavier and hearing him match me, inhale for exhale.

His hand snaked up along my neck, cradling my face and turning me to look at him. Our eyes met and I felt that dark energy rush through me again, and this time I let him see what I wanted. Exactly what I wanted. His eyes were still human, but there was something hellish about the way they darkened as he nodded once and wrapped his hand around my throat.

I had time for one last breath before the pressure on my windpipe cut me off, but it was his fingers pressing down on my carotid that made my eyes roll back in my head as the physical deprivation enhanced every sensation my body had already experienced. My heart beat faster than ever, my senses heightened to unbearable acuity as my mind swam with the need to breathe. He released me for a moment, long enough to let blood and oxygen flow where it should before choking me again, and the reprieve sent me even higher.

He slid his fingers inside me, curling against my g-spot while his thumb circled my clit, just the way I wanted. I clutched his wrist, the hand that held my life in its grasp, ready to tap out if I felt myself losing consciousness, and without effort drew on my magic, letting the energy dance around me and inviting him to do the same. I felt the moment he did so, fire and water colliding like a volcano and a hurricane.

My lungs ached. My head spun. His clever fingers had me writhing with pleasure and everything I felt in my body was magnified by my magic, only to be trebled by his. I was so close now, I'd rather he kill me than deny me again, please, please, so close please just let me please please-

It started with a flutter, then raged through me so powerfully I struggled with my grip at his wrist. He let go and my first shuddering breath flooded me with sensation so intense I nearly passed out. My back arched, my body singing with euphoria, and I screamed his name over and over like no other word existed.

I think I blacked out for a moment, but when everything came back into focus he had his arm looped around me, supporting me against him while he traced my face with his fingers. "Good girl," he whispered as if to himself, "such a good girl, you did so well, you came so beautifully..."

I felt half insane with everything and didn't hesitate to wrap myself around him, my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders, fumbling at his collar to bare his skin and kissing his neck. "Thank you," I said heatedly, "oh my God, thank you..."

"God?" he repeated ironically. "Really?"

I let out a blissful sigh. "Thank you, your Majesty..."

He groaned and clutched tighter at me, and I rocked my hips into his, grinding against his cock. "Fuck me," I begged, "please, Crowley, I need it..."

"You're greedy," he replied, though he was already reaching to unbuckle his belt. "So-" he broke off to kiss the side of my neck, "fucking-" he moved to the other side and bit down before sucking hard, and I hoped it left marks, "greedy..."

I tugged at his tie, loosening it more before moving to the buttons of his shirt, my fingers clumsy in my urgency, and he laughed at me before snapping his fingers and his clothes were gone in an instant. He shoved his hands into my hair and I tried to lean in to kiss him, but he held me away, his eyes burning with more than I could decipher. "No one's ever tried to touch my Juliet," he said softly.

"Is that good or bad?" I asked.

"Oh, darling, you have no idea..." He lowered me back onto the bed and I savored the feeling of his weight pressing me into the mattress before rolling over and reversing our positions. I leaned down, running my hands across his chest as I straddled him, nearly laying flat on top of him and my mouth barely an inch from his. "Allow me," I said.

He hardly looked surprised, his eyes flicking down to below our waists. I straightened up and followed his gaze and...holy shit.

Holy shit.

I looked back up at him, mouth fallen open in disbelief, and he gave me a smug smile, seeming pleased at my reaction. "Be my guest, love," he said.

Holy. Shit.

I took a deep breath and reached down, wrapping my hand around his shaft and stroking him a few times before lifting myself up on my knees and lining him up with my entrance. One more breath, and I let it out slowly as I sank onto his cock.

Thank God for foreplay. It was enough of an adjustment already, stretching around him and taking him deeper, deeper, as far as I possibly could until I felt him against my cervix. I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, clenching my eyes shut and my body going rigid. I couldn't do this if I couldn't move, but the idea of moving with...that, was intimidating.

I felt his hands brush along my thighs and I looked down at him, his eyes roving over my body and his hands moving gently, soothingly, over my legs, hips, ass, ribs. "Let me help you," he said, and warmth suffused my skin. I felt myself softening, opening, relaxing, and I could take even more of him without pain or obstruction.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Made it a little more convenient for you," he replied, his hands still moving in that gentle way.

"Why?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I sold my soul for that, you know. I'm getting my money's worth."

I couldn't stop my smile at his words, or my shiver at having him fully sheathed inside me. It was...unsettling, and I still hardly believed it was happening. I was fucking the King of Hell.

My body took over at the thought, lifting myself up and down and feeling him along every nerve ending, feeling his hands tighten on me as I started to ride him. I leaned forward and braced my hands on his shoulders, shifting my weight enough to go faster, harder, until I was gasping for breath and he was clutching at me, thrusting up into me.

"God-Crowley-" I burst out, feeling exhausted but pushing myself toward the climax I felt coming. "Oh my God, Crowley, you're amazing..."

He moved us both so we were upright, eye to eye as I never lost my rhythm, slamming myself onto his cock as he yanked my hips forward with every thrust. I cried out at the new angle and he smiled deviously. "Sweetheart, you really have no idea..."

I moaned loudly, my head rolling back on my shoulders. "Holy shit..."

"Go on, love," he encouraged me, his voice huskier that I had ever heard it. "Ride my cock until you come. Your king commands it."

"Oh fuck," I sighed, winding my arms around his neck and pulling myself closer, relishing the words, "my king..."

His eyes flickered red and his rhythm faltered as control slipped from his grasp. "Say that again," he ordered.

"My king," I obeyed, moaning a little more.

He answered my moan with one of his own, gripping my ass and pounding into me. I held on for dear life, ecstasy rising so fast I was dizzy with it, whimpering softly, "Are you happy with me, your Majesty?"

He almost growled in response, dragging his mouth across my neck in a trail of hot, wet kisses. "So happy, my good, good girl..."

"Yes," I gasped, then cried louder, "yes, I'm yours!"

I felt his magic again, scorching me wherever he touched as he lost control little by little. "Mine," he affirmed, "for eternity..."

"Yes..." My arms around his neck, my hands where he couldn't see them, I cast my magic around me, searching for the knife he used earlier. It was here somewhere and I had to find it fast.

"You're close," he told me, "getting so tight..."

He was right. If I wasn't concentrating so hard, I would have finished already. Twice. I needed that knife, now!

"Come on, darling," he urged, "come on and come for me..."

There! I found it! Focusing through the pleasure taking over me, I moved it from its place on the wall and into my hand, gripping it tight and flexing my cut palm, breaking the scab and causing it to bleed again.

"Come on," he said again. "Now, my queen..."

My heart skipped several beats. He sounded wild, dangerous, half out of his mind, and his eyes were blazing red again. I felt another sweeping rush of fear but I begged on a needy moan, "Say it again, please..."

He twisted his hands into my hair and looked into my eyes, the glowing scarlet burning into me, his voice harsh and rough, "My queen..."

Finally.

I moved forward before he could catch on and pressed my mouth to his, snatching one of his hands and slicing open his palm before lacing our fingers, one cut clasped over the other and the fresh blood mingling together.

Crowley tore his lips away, looking furious. "Bloody hell, woman, what have you done?" he demanded, his voice rising to a shout as he tried to pull his hand away.

But he couldn't. I couldn't, either. Our hands were locked, blood dripping onto the sheets while around us, there was a tempest of energy, his magic and mine roiling and rippling until without warning, I felt fire in my veins, burning me alive with every beat of my pulse and centered where my blood mixed with Crowley's. Pain, pain unlike anything I ever believed myself capable of enduring, until the room spun and tilted and I passed out, falling into darkness.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna take a nap. Leave me some love on your way out. :)