Failure is an option?

"You have run amok in this world long enough, Demon," Alyona's voice was getting closer, even as it echoed around Samson in the confined hallways.

Watch this, kid. She'll never see it coming. Heh, that one wasn't even intent- oh, never mind.

Samson had succumbed to the flood of lust moments after Gray had triggered it, and was now feverishly masturbating while leaning against a pillar. To be honest, Gray wasn't totally sure Samson would survive this second blast. It was taxing to him, and hell on a mortal body. Literally, it was a piece of hell in his body. Just the piece devoted to carnal desires, but still not what Samson was specced for. Normally he couldn't pull of a stunt like this, but Gray's existence in this plane of reality was threatened and subsection 3.b of his contract with the mortal allowed him to take drastic measures in such an event. So, he ignored the drool dribbling down their shared mortal body and waited for Alyona to appear. She was taking her goddamned time about it, though.

"Your die is not yet cast, human," she was saying now, "I believe in your agency. Free will is not a lie, and you can prove it by casting that parasite aside. Forgiveness and restoration are available to any who asks for it."

Gray had several witty rejoinders on the tip of his tongue, but Samson's tongue was utterly useless at this point. The human seemed to be slowly turning into a liquid, sliding down the wall while still feverishly rubbing his erection. That was going to burn tomorrow, the demon thought to himself. If he's got a tomorrow. As much as he hated to admit it, Gray was fond of this corporeal form, and he had enjoyed this second round very much. Samson could be a moron, but his little moral dilemmas were cute, and Gray loved watching him make all the worst decisions. If this didn't work...

"Judgment is at hand, demon."

Alyona was very close. The sound of her bare feet on the stone floor was just barely audible to Gray.

The red dress swirling around her feet was the first thing Gray saw round the corner. Her bare chest followed. He didn't even wait to see her head before he shot his load.

"In the name of light, I-"

Lust is not a physical object. It has no mass, no weight. It cannot physically interact with the world. Yet, even an impartial observer would have sworn that they heard an audible 'WHUMP' when the greatest barrage of weaponized lust used in angel-demon warfare in two millenia hit Alyona square in her bosom.

There was no scream, no yell. The angel's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, as if to gasp.

"Oh."

She shook, her legs beneath her trembling. One arm reached out to grasp the wall for support. The other followed. Her mouth opened again.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

"He can't help you now, honey," Samson's weak voice was barely louder than Alyona's, but the demon had lifted his body into a standing position, "It's me you need to beg from."

A black spot formed on one corner of the angel's flowing skirt. Then, another. More followed, swelling as they spread, swallowing the vivid red as they went. A moment later, Gray chuckled at the way the odds had shifted as he admired her figure in the new shade.