Chapter 1
“They wriggle when frustrated.” The hulking form of the lesser demon gave a sardonic smile as his forked tongue darted—quite unconsciously—out from between his dagger-like teeth. As if he was anticipating the taste of their captive already. “Need to be dusted at regular intervals—keeps them docile.”
Lassiter watched the stooped imp hobble to the small crystalline cage and drum his fingers across the lock tauntingly. The demon waggled his eyebrows as he peered inside, jostling the little fairy with each shake of the structure as he laughed.
Lassiter’s canines elongated and his horns pulsed at the treatment. Fairy dust, pure, fresh, and uncut, was every demon’s dream. That someone so regrettable as this imp caught one felt…objectionable.
The other demons in the room leered at the petite fairy pulsing her indignation in bursts of lavender and rosy flashes across her body. He watched a dozen plans formulate in the echoing chasms they called brains. This place would be ankle-deep in ichor in the next hour if he didn’t act.
“Wild-caught ones like that are a handful, Igrious,” sneered the ogre seated across from the imp, belching into his ale then stroking a long, clubbed finger over the gilded edge of the cage. Igrious, Lassiter supposed he was named, hissed at his daring but didn’t withdraw the shiv half-poking out from the rags draping his grey-brown body. Though his fingers twitched. “But the effects are more potent than farm-raised stock. Definitely better than that diluted stuff the alchemists bottle, about as useful as molded flowers.”
The ogre tapped the cage again, earning him a glare from both Igrious and the lithe little creature inside. “Even if they do come with an attitude.”
“How much?” Lassiter asked, voice soft but clear over the din of the tavern’s patrons. He twirled a finger around his chilled glass, freezing the liquid inside solid as he met Igrious’s eye.
Fairies were notoriously hard to catch. Nearly impossible actually. It’d been this side of three decades since he’d even seen a wild one.
They were also illegal to sell, but—oddly enough—there were no rules against possessing one. Probably because any upper-level demon who obtained a fairy became, nearly immediately, much too powerful to fuck with. And those demons happened to be the ones who made the rules.
A greedy gleam lit the imp-trapper’s eye, just as his forked-tongue flicked out again to size Lassiter up.
“Can’t trade’n gold, but I’m sure we can reach ’n agreement.” The imp’s eyes glowed malevolently. “Favors from a high demon are nearly priceless.”
The fact that Lassiter Vice was one of the wealthiest demons this side of the Molten Lake was no secret. Gold was no object. But being beholden to an imp like Igrious left a terrible taste in his mouth.
However, with access to pure fairy dust, he would soon also be one of the most powerful, too.
That detail alone made the trade irrelevant. And within the hour, the crystal cage was under his arm and the bracken blood of a tavern-full of lesser demons dripped from his boots.
An emerald velvet sash covered the petite, star-cut filigree cage. Beneath its weighted hem bobbed the tiny, yellow glow of fairy light.
It sparked and fluttered like a torch as Lassiter studied it from across his sitting room.
The black stone pillar he’d placed it upon highlighted his newest acquisition—though her angry little flashes from the hairline gap between the coverlet and marble told him she wasn’t entirely thrilled with the exchange.
Dark laughter rumbled through his chest.
Sinking deeper into his plush leather armchair, he found he was in no hurry to take her out at all. Moments like these deserved to be savored. So he’d done exactly that, enjoying a nightcap, wiping the caked grime of the day from his body, and tucking in before indulging himself.
But his glass was now drained, and he itched to taste that illusive promise of power. The reserves inside him flared brighter at the thought, aching with a scraped-out sort of hunger as if they could sense the potent fuel was inches away.
Slowly, he stretched out a single darkly tanned arm and pinched the fabric between his fingers before tugging it away.
The foot-high form of his fairy came into view, and Lassiter grinned down at it, his smile as wide as the breadth of the cage.
In the tavern, he hadn’t cared what she looked like; a fairy was a fairy—the dust was the only important part. But, looking at her now, forcing himself to savor such a gift, he took his time to catalogue her in all the ways a man might a woman.
White-gold hair swirled softly from her head, moving in unseen air currents. It was long, the layers cascading to frame her face, shoulders, ribs, and waist. Her skin was the cream-top of fresh milk—typical of lunar fairies—and glowed faintly. Her peach-fuzzed pointed ears flicked in quick succession, forward, then back again, reminiscent of a nervous hind scenting a predator. The wings at her back were delicate and translucent, recently clipped under the trapper’s hand, but they’d grow back quickly if he let them.
Which he supposed he could now, if he got her a harness. The golden loop of his earring would fit rather perfectly over her sculpted ankle. Lassiter pictured her riding his shoulder, chained from her foot to his ear as he kicked open the door of every higher demon’s manse on this side of hell.
It might even be fun.
Once she was tamed and his power unrivaled, there would be very few who could stand against him.
He rested his chin on his fist and watched her whirl—cut wings beating frantic light throughout the cage until she writhed inside her own miniature lightning storm.
“If you keep flitting about like that, I’ll have to salt you down.” His voice carried the soft promise of violence, and he noted with some satisfaction that she stilled in the center of her cage
When she turned to face him, it was with feet planted and an expression full of hatred.
He had no doubt she’d shove a vat of holy water over his head if she could.
Her body was clearer now that she’d stopped moving, and he let his eyes peruse her form. Where demons like him were all hard lines and angular features, fairy bodies were written in circles.
Big silver eyes—twin reflections of the moon—rested under long, curled lashes. Her delicate nose swooped slightly up at the tip, hovering over a puffed pair of lips, held aloft by the indented curve of her graceful neck.
The spider-silk dress she wore hinted at starlight and clouds, stretching over the delightfully rounded swell of her breasts before another arched line—inward now—dipped the fabric back in at her tiny waist, only to orb out once more over the swell of her bottom.
His cock twitched and his tongue flicked over the double-row of upper canines hidden behind his lips. If fairies were bigger, they’d be entirely fuckable.
What a shame.
Still, there was plenty of fun to be had, starting with a closer inspection of the pretty creature.
He pinched a handful of black salt from a red-fired container beside him, and sprinkled an unbroken circle around himself, including the radius of her cage to prevent escape. She watched his every move, then crossed her arms with a high-pitched, exasperated huff.
Feisty thing.
He slid the gilded latch open, letting the door swing out on its hinges as he squeezed his hand through the small opening. She darted for the back of the cage, and he barked out a laugh when she sank her flat teeth into his index finger in an attempt to dodge him after he’d cornered her.
It only took a moment to shake her free. Lassiter looped his thumb and forefinger around her nipped waist, then drew her out into the open before raising her up so she dangled in front of his face, thighs pinned in his grip.
She punched at his knuckle with clenched fists as she teetered, her feet kicking out into the air between them.
“Tskssrktkhfit—krhss—t’kss!”
Her voice was a high squeak, and the words rattled out so fast they were nearly untrackable. She seemed hell bent on telling him off though, the rant growing in pitch and speed.
Another laugh built in his throat, but that wouldn’t get him closer to the fairy dust he wanted, so he bit it back this time, as she prattled on.
“Fsshkt’rk—kít—nkkkt! Rhsskss! Twsskk—hsssrt!”
“Well yes, I supposed I am the devil’s spawn, albeit indirectly,” he interjected in the fraction of a second she’d paused to inhale. “Are all fairies such mouthy things?”
“Chrrk! Ssttik—krá!” Her fist pummeled against his hand, as if to punctuate the statement.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” he answered smoothly. “But seeing as you’re already mad at me—”
He pinched her wings between two fingers, using them to hold her up as he opened his palm to let her dangle. With his free hand, a single taloned fingertip flicked out and deftly dragged down her dress, ripping it cleanly though the center, before blowing the remnants open with a pointed burst of hot breath, revealing her form to him.
She moved to raise her arms, but he shifted his grip before she could, just enough to pull the scraps of fabric down to her elbows before twisting it back, trapping them behind her. Lassiter wasn’t quite sure if the resulting crimson tint of her aura was a blush from anger or modesty; but he supposed it didn’t really matter.
Either way, she’d soon grow used to it.
His tongue darted out again—this time deliberately—and the forked-tips flicked at her tiny pink nipples, just enough to make them peak and turn shiny in the torchlight. He straightened, pulling back to examine his handiwork.
The squeaky voice moved to an impossibly high pitch, even while it hissed out in a whisper.“Chk—sskrhfít.”
“Eat you?” He cocked his head like she’d just introduced the best idea he’d ever heard. “You don’t want me to eat you?”
Apparently, wild fairies had heard of their domesticated brethren’s plight, but had missed an essential piece of context.
Which—he couldn’t stifle his next smirk—worked in his favor.
His talon lazily traced the outline of one rosy breast as he pondered this revelation.
“Why should your wants matter to a—how did you put it? ’Filthy, hot-breathed hellbeast’ like me?” He stroked the razor-sharp tip down her side, eyeing the adorable moss panties obfuscating her last vestige of privacy.
She heaved out a great sigh, then raised her chin up.
“Físstrr—shkttih—ksskssta.”
His lips curled back in a feral grin, and he leaned forward towards her.
“Ever made a deal with a demon before, light one?”
She didn’t hesitate. Even in the face of a high demon.“Nkst.”
His smile grew wider, every vicious tooth now on full display. “You realize such a thing is eternally binding?”
A pause, and he watched the wheels of her mind spin through the silver windows of her eyes. Then, finally, she lifted her chin a little higher.
“Yssk.”
“Hmm.” He toyed with the hem that lay against the curve of her appled-bottom. “Anything I want from you, without a fight?”
A tiny hiccup cut the air, yet it was big enough to shake her whole frame as she answered, at last, with a defiant nod.
“That is certainly intriguing,” he mused, glancing to where the edge of her aura tinted with the tiniest line of yellow, like watching hope creeping through a crack in hell.
“I suppose such deals do please my dark father.”
Big eyes looked earnestly up at him, and she began turning a pale shade of blue, seemingly unwilling to breathe while she awaited his decision.
Fairies really were dramatic creatures.
Lassiter’s talon curled inward until it nicked the heart of his palm, drawing out a single drop of hot red blood.
“You agree to do my bidding, then?” He held it out toward her, but didn’t bring it fully within reach until she answered. “And in return, I won’t make a meal out of you?”
A long pause as the solemnity of the vow registered. She eyed the droplet—as large as her whole hand—then looked back to his double-rowed teeth, turning more blue by the second.
Finally, she yipped out an answer.
“Yssk.”
He raised his palm the rest of the way to her face, and loosened his grip enough for her arms to slip free.
“Alright then, I agree to the deal.” He nudged the palm closer, and she bent her head low over it so that her hair curtained the wound.
Although she obscured his view, he felt the tug of the demon bond solidify in his chest, telling him she’d completed the agreement.
When she raised her head again, her round eyes had shifted from moonlit skies to dusky rubies. A tremor ran through her as her aura shimmered every color of the rainbow—first in pastels, before arching into deeper, gemlike tones.
Her wings too, began to shift and flutter between his fingers, and he released them. In response to the magic in his blood, their shape elongated and darkened until they settled into a delicate light-grey echo of his own.
“Now, isn’t that something,” he purred from the void where his soul once sat, and his now docile fairy plopped down into the flat of his palm, the heat of her skin already warming from the inside out as it rose to mirror his own.
“What’s your name, fairy?”
Eyelashes batted slowly, but she answered, calm and serene.
“Aurora.”
The timbre of her voice and cadence of her speech would never match to his own baritone, but even in this, the demon oath pulled her farther from her kind and closer to his.
With a sweep of his own wing, he beat once and dashed the salt circle with a sharp gust of wind. He spread his palm wider, the gesture encouraging—curious to see what she’d do now that she had freedom.
Her bottom shifted deeper into his palm, and she pivoted gracefully into the cup of it, until her back leaned against his lightly curled fingers and her tiny feet rested on the pulse point of his wrist. She made no move to cover herself like before, instead simply twilling her arms trustingly between his splayed fingers.
He flicked his forked tongue out in an experimental lick, starting at her delicate ankles, before slithering his way up her thighs. She pressed herself deeper into his hand, long hair spooling out behind her, falling between his fingers like strands of starlight against shadow.
His core heated and his cock hardened painfully, aching for attention. Every nerve in his body ignited with the promise of fairy dust, mixed with the sight and taste of the delectable female.
The tips of his tongue played at her waist, dancing over her belly, and she let out a small moan as she wriggled under his ministrations. Big red eyes gazed at him—turning lust-drunk—as the desire to please her master overcame every other instinct.
He flexed his taloned hand upward toward the place where she lounged, testing her reactions for any signs of fear as he ran the dangerously sharp edge of it directly between her breasts, stopping just over her heart.
She didn’t so much as flinch, the scent of her previous fear now dissipated in the air.
“Aurora.” He caught the top of her underwear in the talon, circling it through the thin strap at her hip as he tasted her name in his mouth. ‘It feels good,’ the hungry thing inside him said. “Let me see the rest of you.”
Another tug at the cloth, and she lifted her hips, letting him slowly reveal her core as he slid the fabric down her milky-white thighs, until she was fully naked.
The tendrils of his tongue coiled around her knees, spreading them wide, and his eyes descended to her sensitive core. He could smell the floral sweetness of the dust now, just the faintest hint, emanating from the glistening center of her body.
She whimpered, knees tugging against his hold, more a plea than a retreat. He pinched his fingers together nonetheless, trapping her arms between the digits, before flipping his hand so she dangled in the air once more. His tongue released her knees, only to flick lazily over her other curves.
“And what if I said I wanted to eat you now?”
Fairy flesh was so sweet, and her supple softness made his taste buds tingle, saliva pooling in his mouth at the promise of power. His own knees splayed apart as he leaned back in his chair, bringing her to dangle over his face, licking and sucking on her circles as he clicked the latch of his belt open.
“Anything you want,” came her lust-drunk answer.
She showed no sign of distress at all, and simply sighed as she arched into a particularly wet lap of his tongue against her belly, the tip dipping into her navel and the powdery scent hovering there.
The sight of her, all woman, albeit tiny, shot more blood to his cock and his fingers yanked open the fabric that trapped it, until he fisted it in a welcome pump. Her breasts had swelled under his attention, and he gave each a lick in reward, trapping a nipple in his fork and tugging at it until she moaned and kicked. Her skin glistened with sparkles, and her aura skewed purple the more he plucked them.
“Master—” she began, a needy whine laced with the word.
“It’s Lassiter,” he said, pumping his cock in time with the teasing caresses over the fullness of her frame. Fairy dust was best harvested slowly, its impact most potent when extracted with restraint. His magic hummed in anticipation of the meal, heady with desire for it.
Her hips thrust forward in the air, trying to reach his mouth, but he pulled her back at the last moment, forcing a desperate cry from her tiny lungs. Every curve of her body plumped, ripening with the fullness of the fairy magic he coaxed forward. He wondered how big her curves could grow, how long he could edge her, before it was too much for her to take.
His own demon core grumbled in response to the thought, impatient and hungry for her dust.
Fat, frustrated tears glistened at the rims of her eyes now, her aura turning deep purple as she panted and clawed in the air to clutch at his face and horns. With herculean effort, he released his cock and raised his now free hand upward, retracting the claw from his pointer finger until only the soft pad of skin remained, which he then nudged between her legs.
She squealed at the first rub against her wet clit, and he hushed her again, rewarding her with a gentling suck of her nipples while she adjusted to the friction of his touch.
Rapid, hot breaths escaped her, and he could hear the quickened thump thump thump of her heartbeat so close to his face. It matched the time signature of the throb in his balls, beat for beat.
He pressed the finger up further, right to her cunt, and began to work it in. She squeaked again, wiggling in his grip, but he could taste the building sweetness from her skin, feel the magic begging for release—
So he pressed downward on the tops of her shoulders, forcing his finger deeper inside as she squeezed and pulsed around it. Then, finally, he brought his mouth up to meet the tiny, cherried nub of sensitivity, sucking it between his teeth.
Her arms yanked against his hold, and this time he let them go, knowing he had her body firmly trapped on the tip of his digit.
When her hands found his horns—gripped onto them with the full might of her delicate fairy form—it ripped an audible moan from his mouth, straight into her cunt. His own hips bucked up from the chair, thrusting into nothing, as he lapped at her like a deranged dog.
Good. She tasted so fucking good.
With a hand free once more, he fisted his cock again, beating punishing strokes against it as every muscle in his body tightened with all-consuming need.
Just when he thought he’d die if he didn’t suck more of her, she finally—fucking finally—let out a loud keen and burst into a sparkling, dazzling array of light, so bright it seared flashes across his eyes.
Fairy dust leached from her skin, concentrating at her most sensitive points, before dripping down her trembling legs in a fine mist. He held her little body over his mouth like ripe fruit, tongue darting out to lap at the glimmering motes dancing across her breasts, neck, cunt, feet, every part of her he could reach as more dust shimmered and danced its way into his waiting mouth.
The power inside him doubled, tripled, quadrupled—devouring the magic like the hungry beast it was, driving him to lap at her skin, not stopping until he’d licked her clean twice over and his fist reached a fever pitch on his cock.
His core twisted into a knot, locking his body in a chokehold of pleasure, before, with a rumbling groan against her oversensitive core, he finally released hot spurts of spend over his fist, shooting out over and over as if to the beat of an invisible drum.
He opened his eyes to find his little fairy wrapped in a dim cocoon of light, heavy-lidded eyelids barely hanging open as her head drooped in exhaustion.
In the gentlest movement he could manage, he cradled her back into his palm, whispering soft praises until she purred with a happy, warm glow. The pad of his cum-soaked finger traced over her skin, painting her with it until she glistened a pearly white, and her arms clung tight around one of his fingers, as if worried he might put her away.
Which was quite silly, really. Still, he mused, fairies didn’t truly understand the nature of demon bonds.
