Little Demons

The Demon

My father always had a peculiar soft spot for humans. It's an oddity among demons, considering that most of us are driven by the instinct to hunt down human life forms and consume their souls. But my father, as powerful and fearsome as he was, was different. He had a particular affection for a human—my mother—and it's the reason I exist as a half-breed, trapped between two worlds.

Demons can spawn smaller versions of themselves, usually just expelling them from their bodies in some grotesque display. But my father? He was creative. Spawns, in their usual form, are weak, mere shadows of their progenitors. But my father, during his years on Earth with his human, discovered a far more potent way to spawn: using a human womb. And so, he decided to spawn within my mother, sharing that dark space with her half-human child.

Good little Owen.

And I must say, this existence hasn't been so bad. I might have preferred a life of rampage and carnage, to tear through flesh and revel in the chaos, but little Owen found things to be quite… interesting. Satisfying, even.

Yet, regardless of our origins—pure, half-breed, or spawn—all demons answer to the call of the King of Hell. And recently, a directive was issued: find the Fae, and you'll be rewarded.

Owen, for the most part, has been easy to maneuver. I've had my share of fun, slipping into control now and then, indulging in my darker urges. That is, until he met Liliam.

Liliam… she was different. Unlike the countless, reckless girls Owen had entangled himself with, Liliam had something else. Something pure. Something irresistible. I couldn't blame him for being drawn to her. She was loving, caring, and sweet—everything a human could desire in a partner. And, strangely, I found myself liking it too.

Liliam possessed a unique charm. It was like tasting a meal after enduring a long hunger, or savoring the sweetness of a dessert that melts in your mouth. Being around her brought a sense of satisfaction, a fullness that quelled the gnawing hunger within me. It was enough to keep me at bay, content in the shadows.

But tonight, things felt… different.

There was something about her, something that crackled in the air like a sweet, intoxicating aroma, mingling with a surge of raw energy. It was unlike anything I had ever encountered, a magnetic pull that was impossible to resist. Her very presence was a siren call, a lure that beckoned both Owen and me away from whatever trivial tasks we were occupied with in the studio, drawing us inexorably to the bed as if we were under some kind of spell.

I couldn't pinpoint exactly what had changed about her, but there was a shift—a potent, electrifying shift. The moment our skin made contact with hers, I felt it. A rush, an overwhelming surge of pleasure that shot through me like lightning, coursing through every nerve ending with a ferocity that left me breathless. It was a bliss I'd never known before, not in all my years of existence, not even in the most decadent depths of my dark desires.

Her body moved beneath us with a fluid, almost otherworldly grace, her skin soft and impossibly warm, pulsing with a strange, electric vitality that seemed to seep into my very bones. I could feel her heartbeat, quick and steady, each beat sending a ripple of heat and longing through me. Her scent—vanilla and something else, something richer, like honeyed wine—was heady and intoxicating, filling my senses, making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything but the feel of her beneath me.

Her eyes glowed with a light that was almost ethereal, a soft, enchanting shimmer that seemed to draw me in, promising untold pleasures, deeper connections. The light danced in her eyes, reflecting a thousand emotions—desire, fear, wonder. It was like looking into a sea of stars, endless and captivating.

And her skin... gods, her skin. It was like touching fire, not in the painful sense, but in the way it seemed to burn with a heat that was both comforting and exhilarating. Every brush of my fingers across her flesh sent waves of electric pleasure coursing through my veins, each touch a spark that ignited a deeper, more primal hunger within me. She was alive, vibrant, and every inch of her body seemed to sing with life, with an energy that was raw, untamed, and utterly captivating.

As we moved together, every sigh, every gasp that slipped from her lips was a symphony of desire, a melody that resonated deep within my core, stirring a yearning that went beyond mere physical need. It was a hunger for something more, something deeper—a connection that transcended the flesh, that spoke to the very essence of my being.

Was this the thing the King of Hell was searching for? This unimaginable power? This exquisite feeling? It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before, and I couldn't help but wonder… is Liliam the Fae we've been sent to find?

Oh, but I couldn't give this away. Not a fucking chance. The idea of turning her over, of losing this intoxicating feeling, was unthinkable. I loved this. The warmth, the bliss, the way every touch sent shivers down my spine. This was a sensation I had never known, not even in the darkest depths of Hell or the highest heights of power.

No, I wasn't letting this go.

Liliam was mine—ours. And the King of Hell could rot for all I cared. She was more than just a mission, more than a directive to be followed. She was the key to something far more profound, something I wasn't even sure I fully understood yet. But I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I wasn't going to give her up.

I'd fight Heaven and Hell to keep her, to hold onto this feeling, this connection that made even the darkest parts of me feel alive. I'd defy the King himself if it came to that. Because this? This was worth it. This was everything.

And I wasn't letting go.