Crown of the Endless Flesh

Chapter 2: Touched by Blasphemy

Lucien’s boots echoed like thunder against the slick pavement as he approached. My breath caught—not from fear, but from the electric tension that always came with him. He moved like sin, beautiful and terrible, golden wings arched like a mockery of heaven. His face was carved perfection, all sharp cheekbones and cruel lips, but it was his eyes that undid me—twin galaxies of ruin and rapture.

We’d fought. Fucked. Bled. Betrayed. And here he was again, my opposite, my equal, my damnation.

“I thought angels didn’t crawl through alleys,” I said, cocking a hip, letting my coat fall open just enough to flash my cum-soaked slit. “You looking for forgiveness or another taste?”

He was in front of me in a blink—angel speed. His hand gripped my throat, fingers curling tight but not crushing. A test. A tease. My body responded immediately, nipples tightening, cunt throbbing, mouth curling in a grin.

“Forgiveness,” he murmured, “is for mortals.”

He shoved me back into the brick wall, the impact jarring but delicious. His fingers slid down my chest, dragging through the mess of blood and semen, until he cupped my bare pussy. He groaned low and dark.

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

“Always hungry,” I whispered, wrapping a leg around his waist. “You gonna feed me, angel-boy?”

Lucien growled, fingers plunging inside me, curling deep. I moaned, head thrown back. He kissed me then—brutal and claiming—biting my lip until it bled. His tongue licked it away like a lover savoring the sweetest sin.

“You reek of demons,” he snarled, fucking me with his fingers while pressing his palm hard against my clit.

“I reek of power,” I gasped. “And you love it.”

He didn’t argue.

His cock was out in a flash—thick, hard, veined with glowing grace—and I dropped to my knees like the filthy whore I was. I worshiped that cock with my mouth, lips stretching wide, throat taking every inch like I was made to serve him. He grabbed my hair, forcing me down, using my throat like a fuckhole.

I gagged. I drooled. I smiled around him.

When he pulled out, strings of spit clung to his shaft. I licked his balls, sucked them into my mouth, then flipped around, offering my ass like an offering at an altar.

“Bless me, Lucien,” I purred.

He didn’t hesitate.

He spread my cheeks and rammed his cock into my asshole, the stretch brutal and glorious. I screamed, back arching as he slammed into me again and again. His grace burned, but I craved the pain—needed it. My fingers rubbed my clit furiously as he ravaged my ass, claiming me, owning me in that moment.

“You filthy, divine bitch,” he grunted. “You want me to fill you?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Flood my guts with angel cum.”

He roared.

Hot, pulsing jets of divine seed spilled into my bowels, and I came violently, pussy squirting all over the alley floor. We collapsed together, a tangled heap of sex and sin.

But it wasn’t over.

Lucien pulled me into his lap, kissing my throat. “They’re coming for you,” he whispered. “Both sides.”

“Let them.”

“You can’t fight everyone.”

I turned, straddling him, still full of his cum, and grinned wickedly. “I don’t want to fight everyone…”

I leaned down, lips brushing his ear.

“…I want to fuck them all.”