Revelation by Erica Hayes Read Free Book Online Page A

fucking an angel, especially with their veins stuffed with drugs and their eyes glazed by his glory. Whether they liked the reality so much, once they’d seen how he liked to play…well, that wasn’t his problem.
    He waved an impatient hand, and Zuul’s chained collar fell away. “Get going, filth. And remember what I said.”
    “Yes, Master. May I humbly beg your indulgence, Master?” Zuul rushed up and knelt at his feet, glossy crimson hair falling to hide his face.
    “What is it?”
    The pain demon craned his bleeding neck upwards. His dark eyes flamed red with desire, and his lips shone wet. “Hit me again?”
    Michael’s flesh stirred, and his lips curled in a smile. Then again, maybe he’d stay in a while.
    He rose, slipping his silken wrap from his hips. Already, he was hard. “Ask me nicely.”
    Zuul cowered in anticipation, and started to beg.
    And soon, the room filled with the scent of blood and the demon’s shuddering screams.
    Hot summer shadows ghosted around the summit of 30 Rockefeller Plaza, and in a puff of ashen breeze, Zuul materialized in human form, perched on a concrete pillar with his legs dangling over the edge. Seventy floors below, the city glittered and burned, oblivious.
    He shifted, muscles aching deliciously, and a lazy smile licked his lips. Michael had beaten him within a breath of unconsciousness, and it had felt so good he’d made more than one mess on the floor. Then they’d fucked, and the hot hard thrust of the archangel entering him made Zuul scream with miserable delight. Angel and demon flesh burned like acid on contact, and the agony was a thing of beauty. Besides, the archangel’s cock was a fucking prodigy. Michael had come three times without losing his hard-on, and he’d only stopped because Zuul fainted and didn’t scream anymore.
    Warm breeze lifted Zuul’s bloodred hair, and he bit his lip, tasting the memory. His body had already healed the damage,but his lust for pain was insatiable. He devoured it, stored it up inside him and consumed it. It sustained him, and Michael’s appetite for dealing it out had yet to be sated.
    Still, the handsome archangel was just a fling, a casual if scorching-hot affair. The real prize yet awaited him.
    The reign of Satan. Living hell on earth. An eternity of endless, incomparable torture, dealt out by the most prodigious torturer of them all. Zuul’s dick got hard again just thinking about it, and he squirmed. The Lord of Pain. Nothing Michael offered could match that. The sooner this Apocalypse got going, the better.
    Chill wind licked his skin, and the scalloped metal railing iced itself to his palms.
    Zuul stumbled off the fence, his spine crackling cold. Skin ripped from his hands, delicious, but he paid no attention.
    “Welcome, Zuul.” The deep, empty voice swirled around him like arctic wind.
    Zuul’s guts knotted, though he could see no one. Just shadows, dark and shifting like a living creature.
    Azaroth. Lord of Emptiness. Prince of Anguish. Bringer of Unholy Misery. The Demon King had many forms, human, animal and…elsewhat.
    He bowed, shivering, and it wasn’t the flirty obeisance he gave Michael. This was pure terror. Somehow, he kept his voice steady. “My king.”
    The shadows eddied, frost crackling on the glass walls. “What news?”
    Zuul swallowed. “Michael is suspicious, my king. He sent me to find the one in charge.”
    “Does he know I am responsible?”
    “He said not, my king, and I believe him. His Tainted are tracking down the signs.”
    “The Tainted Host.” Contempt cracked the glass, and fragments fell, whistled away by the wind. “Weaklings and hypocrites. I shall take pleasure in eviscerating their emotions. You have done well.”
    “Thank you, my king,” said Zuul fervently. But his hands shook. The coming of Satan, bringer of the torment Zuul craved, was one thing. But Azaroth, Satan’s would-be savior…
    He shuddered. Azaroth knew your darkest fears, and fed them to you