The fingers that trail down Bela's cheek chill her to the bones, even after she's been here so many times before. When she leans down to kiss those lips — they're plush, and soft, and they belong to a seventeen-year-old redhead with freckles and a tartan, pleated Catholic school skirt — there's a hunger in the way they return her gesture: hard, fast, hungry. Bela gives as good as she gets, though, biting on the demon's lower lip and moaning instead of wincing when Lilith throws her to the motel room mattress. She looms over Bela and shakes her head; her mess of curls goes every which way, and she holds her head high, with a countenance of royalty that she doesn't disturb when she shows the whites of her true eyes.

"Naughty Kitten," Lilith drawls, sticking her thumbs under the top of her skirt. She wriggles out of it with ease; her current meat-suit has a slender frame and barely any hips at all. The skirt falls to the floor, and pink cotton panties follow it; Lilith smirks as she slides off the girl's promise ring — a shining, golden thing with an Ichthys and a cross — and drops it. "You know what happens when you try to fight me."

Bela smirks and sits, leaning against the headboard and toeing off her black patent leather heels. "Of course I do," she says with a throaty chuckle. "Why else would I keep doing it?"

A dry snicker worms out past Lilith's lips as she kneels on the bed, beckoning Bela over with the curling of one finger; the demon spreads her legs, but Bela doesn't just acquiesce without making her wait. First, she bestows another kiss on her mistress, her lover — and she makes this one longer, slower, not any softer than the ones that preceded it, but with careful precision, Bela draws each meeting of their mouths out and cups Lilith's icy cheek with a warm, gentle touch. She waits until Lilith's lips have bruises and then she gives that same attention to her demon's neck: first, she kisses the pulse point above Lilith's carotid artery, just below the sharp angle of her jaw, the brushing her teeth into the skin merely flirtatious, enough to excite the nerves but not enough to hurt; she works here until she leaves behind a bright red proof of her presence. When she moves to Lilith's throat, her bites harden, and have more force behind them, getting an impatient, heated sigh from Lilith.

But it's not until Bela brings her lips to the point above Lilith's jugular that she makes full use of her sharpened incisors, tearing into the skin and taking a page from the vampires' playbook, drinking her beloved's blood like sucking out the poison from a snakebite. The dark, coppery taste pools up in her mouth and she swallows it, then takes another hit of that potent drink and kisses Lilith's mouth again; the blood passes between the two of them, twirling around with the contortions of their tongues and the fevered urgency of their smacking lips. Lilith's hands are snowstorms as they cleave to the sides of Bela's face, pulling her in deeper, deeper — and then pushing her away.

"Kitten," Lilith whines, a flush rising to her cheeks as Lilith goes after her Adam's apple once again. "…Now, Kitten, or I'll call the Hell-hounds."

With the strength that the blood gives her, Bela rips Lilith's crisp white blouse apart with ease, and the plastic buttons clatter to the carpet. She trails the ghosts of kisses down her demon's torso, only lingering to bite on the tender skin of Lilith's breasts; when she finally reaches it, she finds a slick warmth between Lilith's legs, and Bela lowers herself closer to the mattress, to show proper reverence to Lilith's cunt. Each of her hands finds a home on the soft contours of Lilith's thighs and she slides her tongue into Lilith's folds without resistance, welcoming the sweet taste of it and the sound of Lilith's moans. Bela's tongue moves inside her lover like liquid mercury, flicking against the skin here or bestowing on it long caresses there. She scrapes her teeth against the outer surfaces, toys Lilith's clit around between them until it hardens; she bobs it back and forth to the sound of Lilith gasping to reclaim her breath — then probes deeper with her tongue than she's gone before.

One more bite on Lilith's sweet spot makes her orgasm, screaming loud enough to rouse the rest of the motel's patrons, and when her hand descends to stroke through Bela's hair, she whispers in a delicate rhythm: "Good Kitten… that's a very good kitten…"

Smirking the same way her demoness does, Bela straightens up and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of Lilith's stomach.