Library Library First Page Page:  Library Library Help

To Worship the Devil

By Catherine
Page 1 of 1

"How did it feel?"

Avon's heart turned slowly to ice at Blake's cool words. Cally had asked him if Meegat had believed him a sod. His somewhat wistful response had obviously irked the rebel leader, whose proprietary behavior was getting more irritating. With his usual sarcastic ease, he replied,

"Don't you know?"

"Yes. I don't like the responsibility either."

The presumptuousness of Blake's arrogant answer made Avon seethe. But it was at least partially true. Blake was worshipped by his precious rabble, even by his own crew. And Avon knew he liked it. Oh, he might deny it but deep down, hidden in his convoluted psyche, Blake craved such devotion. Avon, himself, had never before felt any desire for worship. Independent by nature, he had little interest in others, unlike the social creature Blake was. Yes, Meegat's heartfelt adoration had been a pleasure, soothing his soul if not his body. She had given him much but it had not slacked the desire it was spawned. He wanted devotion from one other. One man. Blake. It always came back to Blake. And Avon did worship him, all-knowing, compassionate, demanding, desirable, Blake.

The comp tech's eyes flashed fire as he rose. The look he bestowed on his leader both challeng­ing and pleading as he brushed by him, leaving the flight deck. He felt Blake's eyes boring into his back, attempting to discern his intentions. I hope that intrigued you, Fearless Leader, because I think that it is time you acquiesced to me. That delightful thought brought an evil smile to his lips as he headed for his quarters. One that, if Blake had observed it, might have given him pause. And a reason to stay away from his most dangerous of companions.

Unfortunately, he did not.

Instead, and not for the first time, Blake wondered why Avon felt that he had to fight him, to be al­ways on the offensive, yet still remaining on Liberator. Absently, he ordered Jenna to set in a new course and left the flight deck. Allowing the others to discuss the bizarre relationship between their two absent companions, Blake sought out his sulky Alpha grade.

* * *

Lying back, Avon forced himself to relax. His plans were set, requiring only the presence of a cer­tain burly rebel. Absently stroking his hand across silken sheets, he let his mind wander, occupying him­self with thoughts of what he would do to Blake. You will worship at my feet, Blake. The image was so strong; Blake on his knees before him, head bowed submissively, waiting for Avon's instructions. His cock throbbed in response and Avon rolled to his feet, pacing his cabin and double checking it.


The startled tech whirled towards the door, which framed Blake's imposing form. A predatory grin lighted Avon's face as he waved the cautious rebel in.

"Come in, Blake."

Avon's pleasant tone made Blake's brows rise. Staring openly, he entered with no little trepidation and stepped over to the smaller man who was leaning against the wall by the bed.

Nervous, Blake? You have cause, but it is a little late for second thoughts.

"What do you want, Blake?

The rebel's gaze focused on Avon, evaluating the question. A faint smile appeared.

"Isn't the real issue what you want, Avon?"

Avon's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to boldly appraise the man before him. Blake blushed slightly but held his ground as the other man scrutinized him. And though Avon would not admit it himself, tall and broad-shouldered, Blake's sheer size was impressive in itself. His face was handsome in a coarsely sensual manner, soft brown eyes and full lips, crowned by his mane of untamed curls. Avon unconsciously licked his lips, making the taller man shiver. The predatory grin returned.

"What I want, Blake, you cannot possibly provide."

Avon's voice was cold and arrogant, making Blake's blood pound with sudden fury.

"Don't be so sure."

Blake pressed hard against the smaller man, trapping him between the wall and the rebel's power­ful chest. Looking down fiercely, he willed Avon to give in, so that they could meet as equals, not enemies. Gentle was how he wished to be with this man. The face turned up to his was surprisingly in­nocent as Avon lightly rested his hands against Blake's chest. Confident that he had won this minor skir­mish, Blake relaxed the pressure. The rebel leader was therefore very surprised when the comp tech shoved hard against him, toppling him backwards onto the bed. Before Blake could catch his breath, he was flipped onto his stomach, a strongly muscled body pinning him hard to the mattress. Struggling for enough room to breathe, he gasped out.

"Damn it! Get off me!"

Blake angry was something Avon always delighted in, but he was taking no chances. Gripping the larger man's hips firmly between his own thighs, Avon forced the other man's face into the pillow. Blake tried to turn his head but Avon held it down, causing the rebel's world to go grey and fuzzy. The larger man's disorientation allowed the comp tech to release his head and pull his arms above it, securing them firmly to the bedposts. Sitting back, he admired his handiwork.

Blake panted for breath, shocked by Avon's actions. He instinctively pulled against the silken restraints, sighing in frustration when they refused to give way.

"All right. You've proven your point. Now let me up."

Blake turned his head, trying to glare at his second-in-command. The smaller man merely raised an eyebrow, moving closer to rest a hand possessively against Blake's still fully clothed buttocks, caress­ing.

"No, Blake," Avon purred. "I have not proven anything. Yet."

The comp tech was unconsciously pleased by the expression of fear and disbelief that filled Blake's face. It fired his urge to conquer, to possess the other man completely. To own him. As he owns me, a small voice whispered but Avon pushed that disturbing thought away to concentrate on the task at hand.

At the unexpected heat in Avon's gaze, Blake shivered. This was not what he had anticipated. While he cared for his difficult companion, perhaps even loved him, to have control wrenched away... Half-remembered memories of Federation torture flooded his mind. He jerked back from the other man's touch as Avon removed his own clothes methodically, folding them and placing them on a chair. Blake watched the comp tech undress, the sight alleviating the intensity of his memory. Nude, Avon was just a beautiful as the rebel had imagined, a contrast of ivory skin and obsidian eyes. Demonic eyes, as he reached over, removing Blake s clothes until only his briefs remained. And they did little to conceal his excitement at viewing Avon. A delicate hand brushed across Avon's groin, making him moan in a mixture of fear and excitement, his cock pressing into the mattress. Avon's feral smile was back as he removed Blake's underwear, leaving him exposed and defenseless.

"Avon," Blake breathed, "Release me."

Avon knelt, straddling the rebel's back and drawing a fingertip along his spine, causing shivers to course through the body beneath him.

"Not quite yet, Fearless Leader. Time to earn your money."

Avon picked up the tube of lubricant he had left by the bedside in anticipation. Squeezing a generous amount onto his palm, he coated himself with the slick gel, then started on Blake. The rebel muscles tighten at the sensation of cool fingers against his buttocks. Fear mixed with arousal as the fingers probe, forcing their way past tight resistance. Flushed with shame, and unable to prevent the invasion, Blake buried his face in the pillow. Suddenly, the fingers withdrew, allowing the rebel a mo­ment's respite before a stinging slap connected with his unprotected flesh. He jerked at the unexpected pain. Why was Avon doing this? A sharp yank on his hair caused him to cry out.

"What was that, Blake? Getting impatient?"

Avon savored the sweet taste of control, releasing the larger man's head to smack back into the pil­low. Seizing Blake's hips firmly, Avon hissed.

"I'll make you beg for it."

Hesitating for just a second, Avon plunged into his captive's body, driving deeply, savoring the hot tightness of his slick passage. Blake choked back a scream. Gods, it was awful, the pain splitting him in two. And each thrust hurt worse than the last. Groaning, the rebel felt tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't stop the other man but, ironically, he couldn't hate him either. The anger refused to surface and, despite the agony of penetration, his own erection was still firm. He felt Avon s grip tighten.

The comp tech was buried to the hilt, trembling on the verge of orgasm. Victoriously, he gazed down on the man captive beneath him. Then, his world dissolved in the white-hot ecstasy of orgasm and he collapsed against Blake's supine form.

The rebel lay there quietly, relieved that the other man had achieved release; that his agony was now over. Avon was still inside him, but soft now, unlike the rebel who was still painfully roused, his erection crushed between his body and the sheets. He felt Avon's hand stroke his side with unexpected gentleness and he shivered. The comp tech sighed softly, withdrawing carefully, as though not wanting to cause Blake further discomfort. One of his hands was released and Avon pushed him over onto his back, not bothering to retie it. Reaching out, the comp tech traced the tear tracks down Blake's cheeks, pausing at the full lips. Leaning down, he brushed his lips across the rebel's.

"I'm sorry."

Blake stared up in amazement.

"Sorry! You tie me up and rape me and now you say you're sorry?"

Avon's face was pale and drawn, despite the flush of orgasm.

"I did not mean to hurt you. I just..." Avon looked away.

"You just what? Wanted to humiliate me? To subjugate me?" Blake's breath was coming in harsh gasps, pain still coloring his voice. "Just leave me alone." The rebel's free hand was clenched tightly to his chest.

Blake's voice had died down to a whimper, scaring the guilty camp tech. I really didn't want to hurt you. I didn't even want your submission, at least not forced submission. I wanted you to belong to me. I need you, Blake. Can you possibly forgive me? Do you want to?

"I'll leave, Blake. After I finish what I started."

Blake stared with suspicion, and not a little fear, as the camp tech leaned close, trailing kisses along his jaw.

"Avon," Blake growled, trying to jerk his other hand free.

The smaller man looked deep into the rebel's angry brown eyes and saw them soften in automatic response to another's suffering, to the deep anguish of Avon's soul.

"Blake, I took. Let me try to give."

The rebel's much vaunted heart warmed to Avon's broken words. Maybe he does care, Blake thought. Maybe he really does love...

Taking the man's silence for acquiescence, Avon released Blake's other hand, threading his own fingers through the rebel's curls, nipping at an earlobe, his breath a soft whisper. Fearless Leader squirmed at the sensation. Pleased with the reaction, Avon laid down a trail of bites and kisses from throat to navel. Thrusting his tongue inside caused the burly rebel to buck, his cock demanding attention. Avon lightly stroked the tip, fingertips exploring its silky texture.

"Avon," Blake whispered, "Please."

Avon lifted his head to stare down at Blake's impassioned face. This was what he had really wanted. Not to force the larger man to submit but to make him need him. So that Blake would need Avon as desperately as the comp tech needed him. And I need you so much. All of you. Your compas­sion, your stubborn righteousness, your love. Avon's reflective smile was gentle, making the other man wonder at its source. Freeing a hand, he brushed the smaller man's cheek, confessing a heartfelt plea.

"Love me, Avon."

The comp tech captured Blake's hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I do, Blake. I do."

With those words, Avon lowered his head, engulfing the rebel's straining organ. Blake gasped at the intensity of pleasure flooding his veins. Involuntarily, he thrust upwards, deeper into the suction provided by Avon's talented mouth. Bracing his hands against Blake s hips to hold him down, Avon sucked hard, making the rebel dizzy with desire until he came explosively, moaning Avon's name. And Avon swallowed all Blake had to offer.

As a hazy awareness returned to the rebel, he noticed the dark head pillowed on his chest. The hand he raised to stroke silky black hair trembled.

"Gods, I love you. But I'm damned if I can figure out why."

Blake's husky words were teasing and said with a smile but Avon refused to look up.

"How can you forgive me, Blake? What I did was inexcusable." Avon's voice was hollow, making his lover's heart ache in sympathy.

"I love you, Avon. And love can forgive anything." At that, Avon looked up, his features tense.

"Even rape?"

Blake sighed.

"Even that, if that is what it was. I'm sorry you felt driven to it." Blake looked up as Avon loomed over him.

"You are sorry? Blake, it was my fault." Avon paused. "I don't like to be dominated. No one does. But still I tried to force you. I didn't even consider that I might hurt you."

"I'll survive," Blake said shortly, pulling the smaller man back against him, warming them both. "It is a small price to pay if it settles things between us."

"And are they settled, Blake?"

Avon's smile was small but genuine, softening his face with a childlike innocence. One to match his lover's.

"We love each other, Kerr. That's all that matters." Seeing Avon's worry had not dissipated, Blake tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, a little domination never hurt anyone. As long as everyone gets a turn."

Avon lay his head against Blake's chest, feeling the rebel's heart pounding a steady rhythm beneath. The burly rebel's acceptance and gentle affection eased his guilty conscience. Blake relaxed, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. As he was dozing off, he heard his name.



Blake opened one eye to observe his companion's serious expression.

"Tomorrow night."


Avon's smile reappeared.

"It's your turn."

Blake's arms tightened their grip as they drifted off to sleep, planning a most pleasurable form of revenge.

"While we're talking

About all of the things that I long to believe

About love and the truth and what you mean to me

And the truth is, baby, you're all that I need."

"Bed of Roses" by Jon Bon Jovi

Rate This Story:

Library Library First Page Page:  Library Library Help

Back to B7 Top