Sometime in the night, she snapped awake to exactly the sensation she had obsessed about earlier. Logan lay behind her, softly snoring into her hair. His arm hung, warm and heavy, around her waist, just brushing against the sensitive underside of her breasts with his every slow breath. Nor was it just her body responding. Careful movement confirmed what she had begun to suspect. Even restrained by his pants, she could feel the half-hard bulge pressing against her butt.

Sleep was now impossible. Memories of their one and only sexual encounter haunted her waking mind. There was no way not to dwell on how glorious it had felt to finally drown in the golden glow of that perfect union of flesh and desire. The sensation of his rough hands so gentle on her skin. His shaft, hard and hot inside of her, driving all the fear and doubt away in waves of mind-blowing pleasure…

She breathed his scent in, biting at her lower lip. Despite telling herself not to, her hips began to move in small, subtle circles, pressing back against his bulge, feeling it grow bigger and harder. Karen squeezed her legs together and stifled a gasp as the friction of movement against her clit sent sparks of pleasure along her nerves.

Logan startled awake behind her. Instinctively, he started to pull away. “Sorry.” His warm breath tickled against her neck as he muttered, still half-asleep. “Didn’t mean to get handsy…”

Karen grabbed his hand before he could pull away and held it against her rapidly beating heart.

“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

The words just slipped out before she had time to think about it. Karen realized at that moment that she no longer cared if it was destined to end in failure and frustration. The hollow ache in her belly could be ignored no longer.

They lay together in the electric silence. Karen could feel his desire pressed against where only a thin layer of denim separated his flesh from hers. She could also sense his hesitation to act on it. Such odd behavior from an obviously aroused male only added to her confusion.

“Do you not desire me?” she asked.

Logan’s soft laughter tickled against her neck and sent shivers racing down her spine. “Yes. Very much,” he whispered in a throaty voice. “It’s just that… without Beauty here, it feels odd. Like I am being disloyal to her.”

He rushed on before she could reply. “It’s weird, I know. She made it pretty clear before leaving that she was perfectly happy that we have each other for… uh, company. I just… I suppose I have always been a one-woman kind of man. This “harem” concept is still new to me.”

Karen rolled over until they were nose-to-nose and smiled at him. “Is that what’s bothering you? You have such strange ideas!” She leaned forward and kissed him. “You saved me. You invited me into your harem. That means I belong to you now, to do with as you wish.”

“You belong to no one,” Logan frowned. “You are your own person free to make your own choices.”

Karen snuggled closer to lay against his body. “Then I choose to be with you, and with Beauty. To be whatever you need me to be. I can’t fight and I am terrible at crafting, but I can make you happy. I can do that.”

She could stand the temptation no longer. Whatever happened, or didn’t happen, not knowing was far worse torture. She reached down between them and stroked his package through his battered jeans. “Let me show you what I am good at.”

“You don’t have to…”

Karen shut him up with another kiss, snaking her tongue into his mouth and nibbling at his lower lip. “I want to.” She looked into his eyes. “I choose to.”

He chuckled and reached up to brush hair out of her face. “Alright then. When is Rome, do as the Romans do, I suppose.”

She grinned. “That is a wise philosophy.”

“Hey, look at me being wise. First time for everything.” Logan leaned forward and captured her lips with his, rolling Karen onto her back.

The sensation of his lips and tongue made her pulse pound and sent shivers of pleasure through her body. Karen moaned into his kiss. Her hands reached down to tug eagerly at the buttons of his pants.

“No,” Logan said with a smile.

She blinked up at him. “No?”

“No.” His smile turned into a wicked grin. “Not yet. First I am going to show you what I am good at.”

He kissed her again, slow and soft. She shivered as Logan reached up to gently trace fingers over her cheek, ear, and neck. His mouth followed, planting kisses across her heated flesh, nibbling at her ear lobe, and tracing a line of fire down her neck with his tongue.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Oh no, let me pleasure you!”

“You will.” He smiled as he began to slide down, kissing her writhing body as he went. “Some other time.”

Any further protests were cut short by his lips closing around her right nipple. His hand stroked the curve of her other breast. The light pinch of his fingers on one was a sharp counterpoint to the warm embrace of his lips on the other.

Karen squirmed in helpless, blissful, confusion. This was nothing like she was used to. Sex, as she knew it, was an aggressive, demanding, and ultimately selfish act, both in life and in death. Partners took what they wanted.

Once again, Logan confounded her by seeming to want nothing more than to give without regard to his own desires. To simply lay there and bask in her own rising pleasure felt wrong. Yet, the sensations coursing through her body were undeniable.

Facial hair tickled against her quivering belly as he slid lower. Small explosions of rapture raced up her nerves as his lips brushed against the inner curve of her thighs. His tongue traced lines of wet fire as Logan moved ever closer to her aching need. Karen braced for that first glorious contact… and groaned in disbelief as he moved away to resume kissing and nibbling at her thighs!

“Please!” Karen heard her own voice, uncertain if it was a plea for him to stop or for more. This could only end in frustration but it felt so very good…

Logan paused to raise his head and look at her. Mischief and lust danced in his dark green eyes. “What do you want? Tell me.”

What did she want? The words rattled around in her head. Was this a trick? Some cruel mind game? No, she knew Logan was not that kind of man. It had to be a genuine question. As foreign as the very idea was to her, Karen had to accept that he truly wanted to tend to her pleasure more than his own!

“I want…” Karen wet her lips and spread her legs. She was no stranger to sex but to ask for something so personal, to admit out loud what it is she longed for, was alien to her. Such an admission required trust, a concept unknown to her until only a day ago.

“Please kiss me… down there.”

“Good girl.” He grinned and lowered his head.

“Ah!” Karen cried, her back arching off of the moss as his tongue began to slide up between her folds. Logan explored every part of her dripping sex. It felt like an eternity before his tongue finally parted her lips and dipped into the seething cauldron of her most intimate parts.

The gentle, patient assault went on and on until the pleasure could not rise any higher, only for her to be proved wrong time and again. His tongue brushed lightly against her clit. His fingers slid inside, stroking at her inner walls. Karen thrashed on the moss, gasping and trying to ignore the soft, insistent voice of warning in her head whispering that this was the peak of her pleasure. That there would be nothing else except the lingering, hollow ache of being allowed no relief, no release.

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Logan looked up at her, face shiny with her juices. His fingers continued to tease and dance inside of her. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.”

No, no, don’t ask me. If she said it, the need would be real. As would the crushing reality of satisfaction denied, always denied. An eternity of frustration and low self-esteem lay behind her, undeniable, unending proof that no soul in Hell possessed the ability to do what she so desperately desired. Logan would be disappointed, and Karen humiliated in her failure to embrace what was so generously offered.

“Tell me,” he teased with soft words and a gentle touch that sent sparks dancing through her body.

“I want to cum!” Karen all but shrieked. It was both plea and prayer. A desperate, distant hope against the unending weight of her own damnation.

His lips closed around her clit as his fingers curled up into her body and touched her G spot, a part of herself she had quite simply forgotten was there. His electric touch scorched through her flesh. Her cries of mindless, sweeping pleasure bounced and echoed off of the cavern walls. Glorious, impossible orgasm exploded through her quivering flesh in crashing waves of fire and light.

Awareness of her surroundings came back slowly. He eased her back down with soft, lingering kisses. Karen lay gasping and staring at the cavern ceiling, unable to form a coherent thought, unwilling to let go of the warm, glorious sensations pulsing through her. She could feel tears of joy spilling from her eyes and tiny aftershocks of post-orgasmic pleasure causing her muscles to twitch. The impossible made possible, all over again.

Logan climbed back up to lay beside her. She stared at him in wonder. “Who are you, Logan Proud Bear? What are you?”

He shrugged. “I keep getting asked that question but my answer hasn’t changed. I’m just a regular guy in an unusual situation.”

Karen just shook her head and stared at him. “You don’t understand, do you? What you just did to me… that should not be possible without the presence of a demon. This…” she cupped and squeezed the bulge in his crotch. “should not be possible.”

Logan chuckled and gave her nipple a light, teasing pinch. “Well, it’s been doing that since I hit puberty, and pleasuring a woman to orgasm isn’t rocket science. It just takes a little skill and consideration, as I believe I just demonstrated to the lady’s satisfaction.”

Karen sighed and made a mental note to follow up on this conversation later. It was important that he understand, but now was not the time for it. Instead, she leaned over and kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. “I never imagined I could be happy again. Thank you for giving me this gift.”

His smile was beautiful. “It is very much my pleasure to give it.”

She moved to pleasure him in return but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her belly. “There is no rush,” he murmured. “Catch your breath. We have all night.”

Such a strange, wonderful man! she thought to herself, even as she obeyed, curling up against him and letting herself bathe in the afterglow of her sexual release. He relaxed beside her, resting his head on one hand and amusing himself by continuing to play with her sensitive breasts.

Soon enough, his gentle teasing re-awakened the fire in her belly. Logan seemed to sense she was ready for more and slid over on top of her. Karen gasped as his warm, solid weight settled between her legs and the head of his shaft nestled in at her eager entrance.

“Wait,” she looked into his eyes. “I haven’t pleasured you yet.”

“Another time,” Logan smiled gently. “I think, for once, it should be all about you.”

All about me? Karen found it difficult to process the concept. “Why would you want to do that?”

Logan shrugged, still smiling. His hips began to move, nudging the crown of his thick desire between the sensitive lips of her sex. Karen forgot to breathe as cascades of electric pleasure shot through her body.

“Because you’re sweet, kind, and sexy,” he replied. Another nudge and Karen’s eyes and mouth flew open as the head spread her lips and slipped inside. “Because you deserve it.”

Slowly, the thick shaft of meat between them began to slide up inside her lithe body. Her eyes rolled up into her head and a low, throaty wail began to rose out of her throat. Her hands clutched at the hard muscle of his arms. His weight relentlessly forced her thighs to open wider. Logan leaned down to brush his lips against her ear and whisper in a deep, lust-filled growl that sent shivers down her spine.

“And because I want to see the expression on your face as I fuck you into the best orgasm of your life.”

In one, smooth motion, a roll of his hips buried the rest of his length into her depths. Between the deep rumble of his voice, his scent of him in her nose, the coiled strength in his arms, and the thick shaft spearing into the deepest part of her, Karen nearly came right then and there. Her wail shot up to a choking scream of bliss.

Logan leaned down to nuzzle at her neck and ears with lips and tongue. He started moving in her slow and steady, gently stretching and reshaping her depths to accommodate his length and girth. Confusion and doubt were washed away in cascading waves of pleasure. He was everywhere, filling her body and senses with the raw essence of male power and control. Laying beneath him, looking up into his gentle, dark green eyes, she felt cherished and safe.

Karen yearned to feel more of that power now. To revel in that masculine need to plow and plunder within the sweet shelter of trust and sincere affection. She looked into his eyes. “Do it,” she managed to somehow shape scattered thoughts into words. “Take me, Logan.”

“Yes!” She cried as he slammed his full length back into her depths. “Claim me! Make me yours! Only yours!” The pressure began to build in her core once again, as hot and fierce as the animal lust she had awoken in her lover. Her flesh, nearly at its limit, echoed with a sweet song of pain and pleasure.

So was Logan judging by the expression of intense need on his handsome face and rising growls rumbling out from between clenched teeth. He began to quake, pounding into her aching body. Muscles flexed across his chest and arms beneath a sheen of sweat and rising lust. Closer. Harder. And then…

When he let loose inside of her, Karen could feel every drop of his seed splashing molten against her walls. It painted her core with seething, glorious, heat. Her own orgasm exploded through her flesh, tearing all thought from her mind. The world around her vanished in a blinding, searing, explosion of pleasure.

Darkness rushed up at Karen and she embraced it.

*****

He watched the last of the enslaved souls being pushed forward to be auctioned. Those who had requested specialty orders seemed pleased with the sexual slaves trained for their particular amusements. Those souls that remained, the weak, the untrained, and the ugly, were, as usual, sold at public auction to a hungry crowd eager for fresh meat.

His Mistress had made a tidy profit today. De Sade hoped it would help dampen her fury at the loss of two of her harem. It was, he knew, a slim hope at best. If she was correct, then someone was making a move to usurp her place and her power. No amount of coin would matter if this unknown enemy was successful.

The man who had been known as the Marquis de Sade in life was no stranger to the fragile nature of privilege. Despite being born into wealth and titles, neither had saved him from being thrown into prison to rot for most of his adult life. His own family, may they rot in the deepest pits of Hell, had had him committed to an insane asylum.

None of them had been able to appreciate the beauty and truth of his passion and his life’s work. Only in death, in Hell itself, had he been able to find a kindred spirit in Baroness Graveek. She understood him as no one else ever had. Together, they had explored realms of sweet pain the likes of which he would never have dared to attempt in life.

Now all of that was in jeopardy and it terrified him. If she fell, he fell with her. The influence and essence he had so carefully hoarded to make him strong would be stripped out of him and he would be discarded, just one more nameless soul condemned to wander Hell, forever lusting and forever denied. A shiver of dread rippled across his flesh in a wave of goosebumps. That could not be allowed to happen.

De Sade looked over to see the two human guards assigned to him by his Mistress speaking in low tones. They too looked worried.

“What are you two idiots babbling about?” he asked, grateful for any target to vent his frustration on.

“We were just wondering where Chort was,” the bigger and dumber one, Jimmy, admitted.

“He always comes along on the slave sale runs, don’t he?” Boris added.

“That’s why we’re here, you dimwits.” De Sade snapped at them. “The Mistress has charged me with hiring a specialist to find him, or find whoever killed him. Whichever one it turns out to be.”

“Someone killed Chort?” Jimmy whistled. “Damn. Do we know who did it?”

“No.” De Sade rolled his eyes. “Which is why we are hiring… a… specialist.”

“Master,” one of the slaves made the mistake of speaking out loud. Jimmy stepped forward and clubbed the man to the ground.

“Master, wait!” the wretched man pleaded as he curled up into a fetal position and threw his arms up to protect his head. “I may know the one you speak of! I saw them!”

De Sade held a hand up. “Stop. Pick him up.”

Jimmy had to hold the poor bastard up after the beating the man had just received. De Sade took a better look. His lips curled back in disdain. The slave was an old Hispanic with barely any meat on him. They would be fortunate if anyone offered coin for so poor a specimen as this.

“Speak, slave.”

“I will,” the man nodded eagerly. “I will. You’ll show me mercy, won't you?”

“Yes, yes.” De Sade waved at him with a handkerchief before tucking it under his delicate nostrils to ward off the slave stink. “Now, speak or suffer my anger.”

“I saw ‘em, Master. Out in the waste. A human male, strong with dark hair and a young Succubus. Beautiful, with lavender skin, golden eyes, and hair like new-fallen snow.”

“You saw a soul being hunted by a Succubus and you think that is worthy of my favor?” De Sade scowled. “You dirty piece of-”

“The man was wearing clothes, Master, and carrying a weapon.”

“What? Are you certain? Speak as if your life depended on it, slave!”

“Yes!” the man nodded quickly. “I’m certain and I can tell you where I saw them. Only, please Master, don’t sell me to them demons out there!”

“This one stays with us,” De Sade ordered. He glared at the wretched slave. “Now tell me all you know.”