Binding Ties

Prue slowly lowered herself onto her knees. Cole took a step forward when he saw the slow smile begin on Delic’s face. The lead demon reached out and laid his hand against her cheek. The demonic assistant returned with the athame, and Delic drew it across his palm. As the bleeding began, he gave the blade back to the assistant, who used it to re-open the barely healed gash on Prue’s hand. Pressing their hands together, he declared, “Shared blood, shared loyalty.” Then Delic had her repeat the oath of the brotherhood. When he was done, he dropped her hand. Drops of blood, both his and hers, fell to the cold stone floor. Delic ignored this.

Slowly he ran his thumb across Prue’s chin, and onto her throat. From his place closer to the chamber entrance, Cole spoke up.

“Is this really necessary, Delic? Simple bloodletting --”

“Would suffice if she were any demon, Belthazor. But she isn’t, are you, my dear?” Delic turned his Cheshire smile toward Prue. “No. Something more is required to turn a former Charmed One into a member of our brotherhood.” He slowly began to run the pad of his thumb down her throat. “Do not worry, brother. I would not risk the Source’s wrath by seriously harming your witch.”

Cole suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he fixed them on Prue. “Somehow I’m not reassured.”

Delic’s only direct answer was a hearty laugh. “Hopefully you will reassure us both, won’t you, witch?” Prue looked at him. She smiled.

“Of course, Delic.” She looked him in the eye, and a grin of anticipation tugged at the corners of her mouth. The laughter around Delic’s eyes turned smug. He parted his robes with his other hand, revealing his cock, which was nearly hard.

“To think,” He murmured, “A month ago I was merely an assistant of sorts to Raynor. Now he is dead,” Delic cut a glance at Cole, “I lead the brotherhood in his place,”
He returned his gaze to Prue, “and the eldest of the Charmed Ones kneels at my feet.” There were jeers of approval from the assembled demons. Delic’s next words were cool and quiet. Stepping toward her so that his cock jutted toward her face, he muttered, “Prove your loyalties, witch. Service me.” To emphasize his point, he ran his thumb across her lips.

Prue narrowed her eyes at Delic, but nevertheless reached up to encircle his shaft with her right hand. Running her palm along its length, she tilted her chin up to press her lips against the tip. Cole shifted from foot to foot, his eyes flicking back and forth from Delic to Prue. Nothing about this was unusual, and yet everything was. Rites of initiation and power plays in which high ranking demons asserted their dominance were common in the Underworld.

But still, Cole struggled to maintain even a façade of nonchalance as Prue began stroking Delic’s balls and taking more of his cock into her mouth. He wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to feel, and twenty pairs of eyes all boring into him didn’t help. Lust, sure, that was easy -- she looked sexy as hell with Delic’s hands around her throat and her lips moving over him, soon nearly halfway up his shaft. Part of Cole, the part of his mind Belthazor controlled, could simply look at the scene in front of him and remember countless raids he’d gone on with his brothers, before the Triad mission, before everything changed.

Surprising a witch and forcing her down onto her knees to take a brother into her mouth -- that was as much of a power trip as killing her, whether or not they’d received that order from the Source. Belthazor saw Prue as little more than a very powerful witch, and his demonic side felt she was paying her dues to his brothers, and getting what she deserved for the many times she’d humiliated him. Belthazor enjoyed the show: her chin against Delic’s pubic bone as she took him in deep, the leader of the brotherhood with his fingers on her throat, feeling her suck.

Delic was getting harder by the second. He began to fuck her mouth, and the jeers of the demons kept pace with the rhythm of his thrusts. Although Prue seemed to be enjoying herself, Cole’s human half could barely stand to watch any more. His human sense of decency and the nineteenth century morality that went with it cried out that she was his wife, damnit, and no other man should touch her like this. Especially not when she was expecting their child.

Cole stopped his restless movements when that thought occurred to him. No one besides the Seer, him, and Prue herself knew she was pregnant. Of course Delic had promised not to hurt her, and that was a promise between brothers he wouldn’t dare break, but what he didn’t know could possibly hurt them all, if he decided he wanted to sample more of her charms.

So Cole was about to interrupt Delic, when the speed of the leader’s thrusts increased, and he gripped Prue’s chin in his hand. He came a moment later, squirting into her mouth. Between his grunts the demon muttered, “All of it, witch. Take it all, and gulp it down.” To the appreciative whistles of the circle of demons, Prue did just that. The sly seductive grin which spread across her face after she was done was enough to make Cole hard and distracted for a few moments, until the one demon in the chamber who hadn’t been thrilled by the performance spoke up.

“Well, now you’ve had your fun, Delic,” Klea called to him snidely, “And we now know you’ve got the balls to lead us and that the witch knows what she’s good for --” another jeer went up at that. “But I for one am still not convinced about Belthazor. Think of all we have been through because of him. How do we know he’s up to the task of fulfilling the prophecy?”

Twenty pairs of eyes turned on Cole. Delic adjusted his robes and then replied, “What are you suggesting, Klea?” Interested murmurs filled the chamber.

Klea’s red-rimmed eyes glowed slightly as she smirked at Cole, who had come forward when Prue got to her feet. “I am suggesting, Delic, that Belthazor and his witch provide us with a demonstration.” To Cole, she added airily, “If her sister’s love hasn’t drained away more than your demonic resolve, of course.” She smirked at him, and he gritted his teeth. Prue, however, took his hand and looked at Klea.

“It hasn’t. How could it? She isn’t that powerful. But I know what this plan means to the Source and to all of you. So,” She glanced around at the semi-circle of demons before giving Cole’s hand a squeeze. “If you want proof that the prophecy’s in capable hands, well, I’m sure Cole and I will manage to convince you,” Prue turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Somehow.”

From behind Prue came Delic’s low chuckle. He shot a pointed look at Klea before saying to Cole, “Consider me another who requires convincing, Belthazor. At least the witch seems willing enough.” He lowered his voice. “Not that that would have been necessary for the mighty Belthazor we all knew.” Clapping Cole on the shoulder, he added, “Prove that you have returned to us, brother.”

He pushed Cole forward into the semicircle along with Prue. To the jeers of the demons, Prue leaned toward him and whispered at his ear, “Play along.” Her eyes as she pulled away cleared showed she thought they had no other choice.

From behind them came a low chanted bit of Latin, and the next second the tunics they’d put on not more than an hour before had vanished. Even naked before the brothers, Prue showed little fear; she tugged on Cole’s hand and pulled him down with her to the floor of the chamber.

He barely caught himself, and taking advantage of the laughter echoing around him, muttered in her ear, “Welcome to the wild, wild witch.” She glanced around him at the brothers and then, putting her right palm flat against his chest, murmured, “I’m not going anywhere…”

The look she gave him then, the one that said she knew exactly what affect she had on him and that he had on her, audience or no, was almost enough for him to forgot Delic, Klea, and the others gathered around, watching. One of the brothers coughed, at stage volume, and Prue grinned up at Cole. Slowly, he ran his hand across her cheek and down to her collarbone. His lips followed a second later. Closing her eyes, she reflected that she really could get used to this.

Then she noticed that Cole had moved on to kissing the side of her neck. Almost involuntarily, Prue stiffened. Snickers followed from the brothers, and he lifted his head to mutter against her temple, “Something bothering you?”

“You seem to be confusing me with some other witch you’ve bedded,” she hissed back. He blinked, and then ran his hand across her chest. Running the pad of his thumb across her left nipple, he smirked in satisfaction when she held her breath. Sometimes in his dealings with the Charmed Ones, he had had to make educated guesses about them like he had just now. Often, he had been right, or at least able to recover without them catching on.

After he bent down to run his lips around her right nipple, Cole made a mental note of Prue’s small moan. Later, he would reflect on what it meant, if anything, beyond the echo of her words to him in that godforsaken time loop. “You would be confusing me with Phoebe.” He’d retorted that there wasn’t a chance he even could, and here she’d proven him wrong.

But he couldn’t dwell on the running score between them with Delic and Klea’s eyes boring into him, and his own need growing. Prue caught the look in his eyes, and slid her hand from his chest down to his torso. His eyes darkening with desire, he let her fingers get within inches of his cock before he took hold of her wrist. Firmly, he kneed her legs apart, and to the jeers of his brothers, positioned himself against her mound.

Prue pulled her wrist out of his grip. On the pretense of moving against him as he entered her, she put her arms around his neck and her lips by his ear. Her whisper was breathy with both anxiety and lust. “Cole…the child….” The fear in her eyes stilled him a moment, and he cradled her head in his hands.

An impatient and plainly feminine sigh broke their gaze. Cole began to move, steadily and deep. The demons started chanting, and although the fact that it was Latin registered in her mind, Prue didn’t even try to translate. She blocked them out completely, just like Cole seemed to be doing.

He braced his elbows against the hard stone floor of the chamber. Prue bit her lip, and leaned her cheek against his palm. All the while he fucked her, rhythmically, in time with chant of the Brotherhood, until, the rhythm climaxing with him, his fingers curled around her face, and he came inside her with a groan.

Prue tried to keep him from collapsing on her, even as Delic’s voice rose over the cat calls filling the chamber. “They call this entertainment,” Cole panted, sotto voce, while he caught his breath.

“What would you call it?” Prue looked at him, and Cole caught a glimpse of something more than bravado in her eyes. But Delic didn’t give him the chance to answer. He walked over and helped Cole to his feet. The demonic assistant handed Cole a fresh tunic.

“I knew you would not betray us again, brother. Welcome home.” Beside him, even Klea looked at Cole with a measure of respect. “We will continue with our celebrations,”
Delic continued, more quietly, “Now we are assured that the prophecy is secure in your hands. It will come to pass that this child shall be, and we shall drink to the Source’s vision for the future.” His eyes fell on Prue, who had gotten up on her own. “And to the potency of evil. Take your rest, Belthazor, and take pride in your restored place among us.” With that he waved them from the chamber.

Prue didn’t look Cole in the eye until they were back in their suite. Once they were, she rounded on him. “Answer the question.” Between the determined glint in her eyes and her hands on her still bare hips, Cole was again momentarily at a loss. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, not in exasperation so much as an effort to collect his thoughts. Prue shrugged past him to stand in front of their sofas. Then she dropped her hands to her sides.

“Would you call it revenge?” Her voice was quiet, and tinged with something like defeat.

Cole blinked. She seemed so small, all of a sudden. Naked, in a way she hadn’t been in front of his brothers. The memory of his own wrenching confession to Phoebe at the cemetery flashed in his mind, and the truth came out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Partly. But not a very entertaining revenge.”

Her eyes, intense as ever, almost pleaded for him to go on. Disconcerted, he did. “I’ve been on countless raids where we’ve had our way with witches. That’s how I tried to look at the whole ritual. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t look at you and not be reminded of so many things.” He dared look at her straight in the eye, and saw mostly disbelief there. He grinned, deviously. “That damned trap, first of all. If you had any idea how painful it is to be forced to transform….”

She rose to the bait, narrowing her eyes and lifting her chin. “What do you think the point was?” Her lips quirked into a small proud smile.

His only reply was a low chuckle. “And what we said to Bo Lightfeather….”

Prue closed her eyes briefly. “Hiding half of who you are.”

Cole gently laid his hand against her abdomen. “Keeping secrets,” he whispered. Her eyes flew open. “I have enough humanity in me that I could relate, when you said that. And now…”

She leaned against the sofa. “Now it’s worse.”

He nodded. “I remembered all of that, and the vows. I could barely keep silent when Delic put his hands on you.” Cole brought his other hand up to lift her chin. “Believe me, revenge wasn’t all I thought about.” He dropped his gaze, pointedly, to her naked body.

The sly grin reappeared. “You weren’t jealous of our dear leader, were you?” She flinched away from the reflexive twitch of his hand. Laughing, she pushed herself backwards onto the sofa cushions.

“Jealous? Oh, no,” he responded dismissively, coming around to stand over her. He bent down and flicked a fingernail against her right nipple. She bit her lip. “Not,” he said softly, climbing on top of her, “when I know you so well.” He let his hands fall against her ribcage, stroking feather light. Gradually, his fingers began to brush the undersides of her breasts. She was chewing her lower lip now, watching him like a hawk.

Cole bit back any snaky remark, but he did take note of how different this was for him. There truly wasn’t a chance he’d confuse this with anything at all about Phoebe.

Banishing that thought, he began to suck and lick between her breasts. Prue sucked in her breath, and he grinned against her skin. He moved his hands lower, skimming across her stomach and down, between her legs. Prue flinched slightly, reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, closing her eyes as she did. A moment later they flew open.

Cole had begun flicking her left nipple with his tongue. She sighed, and then when he took it into his mouth, she gasped. Thus distracted, she didn’t fully notice when he took hold of her right hand. He rubbed at the dried blood on the palm, and then placed her hand on her mound. Only then did he stop and look at her. She had given him an idea.

“Touch yourself,” he murmured. Prue looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. She blushed. He covered her hand with his.

“You aren’t embarrassed, are you?” Cole allowed a smirk to curl the corners of his mouth. She glared at him. Slowly, she pushed her index finger over her mound, and between her folds. Rubbing her clit lightly, Prue let some of the tension of the past hours out of her shoulders, and eased back against the cushions. Cole watched her face as well as the movement of her hand. He enjoyed seeing her like this: relatively exposed and wanton. Her carefully built barriers were falling, and he was determined to turn them all to dust.

But he knew he could only push so far all at once, and so once he saw her calves start to tense, he pulled her hand away. He didn’t bother to hide the desire in his voice as he looked at her: face flushed, nipples erect, and that intriguing flush spread across her chest. “Let me,” he whispered, and she tilted her head in approval. Cole leaned down and kissed at her swollen folds, darting his tongue in between them. She was wet, so very wet, and that only increased the thrill. He licked and sucked around her clit, and finally dared to run his lips over it. She came, gasping, against his mouth.