He smirks and shakes his head but slowly and painfully unbuttons each button. “How has my performance been in these actualdreams, love?”
“Adequate.” More than adequate, I usually wake up a sweaty wet mess, which doesn’t happen when I have a non-spicy dream of him. Something about how we are now does seem clearer than any wet dream I’ve had of him before. But the needy slutty part of me doesn’t care—I need this.
“Mmm, I’ll have to do better than that.”
“It would be appreciated.” He laughs, and the smile that takes over his face is one I haven’t seen before. When he looks up at me, it’s like he’s truly happy to see me. He never stops undressing, but he doesn’t stop looking at me, either.
Once his shirt is off and I can see the full expanse of his chest, I have to bite my lip. It’s not fair for this man to be this insanely hot.
“Last chance, love,” he says, taking his belt out of the loops and going to unbutton his pants. “You’re not dreaming. Do you want me to keep taking it off?”
I nod, and he takes it as the yes that I wish I could scream from the top of my lungs. While part of me might never forgive him for what happened that day, there’s a more intrusive part of me that misses him and has been longing for him. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like an itch that can never be scratched or like a fly buzzing around your ear that annoys the shit out of you and will never go away. I can’t escape him, no matter how much I try. So, I should at least get a show with his infestation of my mind.
He drops his pants, and they fall to the floor; he is fully—blissfully naked. He’s hard, and his cock smacks against his stomach as he pushes his pants away from himself. When he fists his length, his thumb rubs the moisture from the tip down over his shaft, and I nearly come on the spot. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me as he slowly strokes himself. It’s leisurely like he wants this to last, and he’s in no rush to make himself finish.
“Do you just want to watch, little Hellfire?”
I realize I’m staring at his huge dick, and when I look at his face again, he’s smirking at me.Always with that smirk.
“You said you wouldn’t touch me.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t, not won’t,” he corrects, taking a few steps closer to me. He’s close enough that I can see his whole body, and it makes my heart race. “If I could touch you, love. I would be on my knees for you in a moment. I’ve missed you.”
I swallow and look away.When did my dream-Lucifer get so sweet?Usually, in my dreams, we are a mix of sweat, teeth, and pants of breath. It’s only in my other dreams he’s this sweet. “You don’t mean that.”
“You just admitted to feeling my presence, how often does that happen?” He’s holding his length in his hand but isn’t moving as I look at his face.
I shrug, not wanting to admit just how often it feels like he’s around me. Or how often I dream of him.
He clicks his tongue. “I would say you missed me too if you used your gift to come to see me. Plus, all the times you—”
I shake my head, still not believing him. If I had this so-called gift, it would have shown itself forever ago.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.”
“It seems your penchant for revenge hasn’t sated over time.” I shake my head and can’t help but look down as he begins to stroke himself again. “Show me what I’ve been missing, I know you’re wet.”
“Am not,” the lie flies out of my mouth before I can even think about it.
“Don’t forget that I know when you lie, darling. Unless you would like to prove me wrong.” He arches his eyebrow in challenge, and I give in. If he’s not going to touch me, the least I can do is touch myself. I grab the hem of my dress and toss it over my head, throwing it on the floor.
I stand in front of him confidently and watch as his strokes become harder and faster. Fuck, it feels good to be the reason he feels that way. It might just be a dream, but in my dreams, Lucifer is obsessed with me, and he’s proving it to me right now.
“On the bed, love.” I blink at him, wanting to be defiant but wanting to come more. I confidently hop up onto his bed, ready for whatever he’ll give me. When I look down at myself, it’s like I’m glowing.What the fuck?
Chapter twenty-one
Lookingbutnottouchingis the worst fate I’d been dealt in a while, but it’s something. Something that I’m not willing to let slip through my fingers. She looks beautiful, but she always does. It’s not like I haven’t seen her; I was stalking her earlier today. Plus, the countless times she comes to see me. I thought about telling her about her gift before, but it was so easy to talk to her when she thought it was all a dream. The new information that she has sex dreams about me on top of astral projecting to see me is a bonus.
My Lilith seems conflicted. All I want to do is get on my knees and do something pathetic like beg her to come back to Hell or confess my feelings for her. The time apart has been difficult—to put it in simple terms. The only thing that’s gotten me through her being on Earth is how much I check in on her. And how much she checks in on me—chooses to see me. If I didn’t have these small moments with her, I wouldn’t be able to function.
I know that she lives with Kas, that they are friends, and that Lilith is still as bloodthirsty as ever. I know that she’s seeking revenge for her sister, and she won’t feel content until she does. I even know that she’s been visiting Blair. At first, I was mad at her for not listening to my orders, but when I saw them together, the way Lilith cared for my daughter when I couldn’t... it meant everything to me.
I’ve been good, following Kas’ advice so she’s safe on Earth. No one has bothered her, and there haven’t been any stirrings from Heaven. But I can’t help how selfish I am. I need her with me, even if it is a projection and not physical. Her mind and spirit are here with me, and if that’s all I get, then I’ll take it.
The first time she projected to me, I thought my own subconscious brought her to me. That I yearned for her so fiercely that this vision of her was a concept my own mind made up.
Once I saw the shimmer on her skin, one that most wouldn’t notice because it was barely discernible, that’s when I knew she was astral projecting. The realization that she misses me as much as I miss her, even if she’s not willing to admit it, means everything to me. It keeps me patient, allowing her this time to grow, learn who she is, and for her to make the choice to be with me.
