Page 13 of Falling for Ash
He was Asmodeus. The Ashmedai! A Prince of Hell. General of the Daemonium Guard. A fucking legend in the Underworld. Conquests by the thousand.
Who knew more about lovemaking and the art of seduction than he?
Him! Ordered to attend this speed dating event like somebody’s ugly step-cousin. Bah! If the Lord of the Underworld wanted him to get laid, he supposed he had no choice. So, which of these all too willing females was he going to go home with?
So many there reeking of lust and desire. He felt their eyes weighing and measuring him. Heard their whispered gasps of surprise that the Demon of Lust was there, in the flesh.
Ugh.
His boredom bordered on disdain for the throngs of females. He even snarled at one who dared step too close. Truth was, none there appealed to him.
He frowned, his thoughts turning grim as he tried not to look too closely at any one person there. He simply was not ready for dating. Fucking was another story. His body was in fine working order. Sex without emotion had always been one of his specialties. But not even that stirred his appetites.
Not after all he’d been through. Yes, he realized he sounded like a whiny fucking human.
But so what?
Maybe they had it right when they promoted sharing each other’s feelings and emotional awareness.
He was a Demon, true, but he still had a soul, for fuck’s sake.
Besides, what help did he need finding a female?
He huffed and readjusted his specialty tailored jacket. It was quite fine and superbly cut, if he said so himself.
Thanks to Arachne, of course, and her custom clothing boutique, Metamorphosis. That was one highlight of the new Underworld Ash was rather fond of. No one cut a suit like the female Spider Shifter. And the fact her silk was imbued with magical elements that allowed for him to reveal wings and tail without damage was just a bonus.
He wore her latest design tonight, admiring the feel of the slate colored suit. Lucifer had commanded he dress to the occasion, and after all that time spent in rags, imprisoned by the foulest of the foul, Ash did not mind donning some finery. Indeed, some things about being home were almost too good to be true.
He still felt unsettled, but at least he was back among friends. In his own house, and with so many lovely luxuries. His callused fingers brushed against the smooth silk of his shirt, and Ash silently thanked Arachne’s efforts. Her new boutique was exquisite and she had a knack for utilizing her clients’ desires, such as his own taste for finery in her creations, surpassing his expectations in her execution. Lust encompassed many things, including an affinity for all things beautiful.
Speaking of which, he ducked his head when a certain familiar blonde headed his way.
Shit.
He had hoped to go on unnoticed, but alas, that was not to pass. Hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised, Eve hunted him across the room.
“Well, I knew you’d been summoned, Asmodeus, but I did not expect to see you here,” Eve said with her familiar, and always annoying, smirk.
The Vampire female had been after him to attend this little soiree since he’d returned. Eve and Aphrodite had concocted this plan to match up citizens of the Underworld with their fated mates. Even destiny fucked up occasionally, and sometimes mates somehow eluded one another during their actual lifetimes.
What fucking ever.
Ash had never lived as anything other than a Demon. He was not dead or undead. He simply was. His existence was not like others. Yes, he could die, he supposed, but where he would end up was anyone’s guess.
Born in Hell, returning there would be like going home, wouldn’t it?
And he did so prefer Purgatory for the time being.
“Well, ready to admit I was right?” Eve asked.
“You? Ha! I was ordered to attend, and I would never defy Lucifer,” he replied blandly.
“Oh.” Eve frowned. “Well, since you are here, I hope you will have an open mind about finding your mate?—”
“I don’t think so, Eve. And I apologize if I am rude, years away from civilization can do that to a Demon, but I have absolutely no interest in being here. I am only sitting at this ridiculously decorated table because, like I said, I was ordered to do so.”
“Drat! I told Aphrodite the confetti and glitter were just too much,” she murmured, brushing some of the paper hearts off of his table and into her manicured hands.
