“Please, I’m sorry. I was just doing my job.”
“My friend Elvor likes to start with fingers, maybe we should start there.” I hear a snicker from behind me, and I smile as I catch Beelzlebub off guard. I’m so quick he doesn’t even see my blade coming down on his tied hands, severing off his middle finger. Beelzebub wails in pain as he looks at his bleeding finger. Symbolic, should have gone for his ring finger, that would be full circle.
“I don’t deserve this.”
“No, you’re right, you don’t.” I watch him sigh, and panic begins to leave his features. “You deserve so much worse.”
Needing to make this last, I’m efficient with my slice along his throat. Deep enough to bleed but not deep enough to kill him. He chokes as blood stains his shirt, and I’m sure there are some flecks on my own skin. But I don’t stop there, I continue slicing his flesh, cuts that alone are not deep enough to kill but together will cause him unbearable and lasting pain.
“You know, I’ve thought about how I would kill you all these years,” I tell him, still holding onto my dagger while speaking with my hands. “But you know the beauty of it?” He looks up at me, looking like an absolute bloody mess. It’s beautiful.
He gurgles now that he’s lost his ability to speak, and I take that as his acknowledgment to continue. “You won’t actually die.” I laugh and plunge the dagger into his lung. He wheezes and cries as I smile at his ugly face grimacing in pain. “I’ll get to live out every single way I’ve thought of killing you, and the days I’m busy? I’ll send someone else to do it. The rest of your existence is going to be painful and brutal, and you have no one else but yourself to blame. Until next time.”
I turn the knife, likely nicking his heart, and I watch the life leave his eyes. It’s single-handedly the most satisfying kill I’ve ever had, and the adrenaline coursing through my body is unreal as I watch him slump in the chair.
It’s like a weight has been lifted off my chest, the revenge I’ve been seeking for so long has been fulfilled, and I can do this whenever I need. I drag the bloody blade along Beelzebub’s shirt and turn around.
Before I can even search for him, his hands are on my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone as I look up at his face.
“Magnificent,” he says before his lips are on mine.
I can’t be certain if it’s the excitement of what I just did or having Lucifer kiss me for the first time, but it feels revolutionary. Like no other kiss between two people has ever compared. Lucifer’s lips on mine are all-consuming. His lips are softer than I imagined, but he isn’t gentle, not that I would ever expect him to be. His kiss is aggressive and demanding as he parts my lips and explores me with his tongue. I can’t help the moan that escapes me, and he hungrily devours.
His large hands are firm, one cradling the back of my skull and tangling with my hair as the other tilts my jaw to him. He has to bend down significantly to kiss me, and I hear him groan. I sigh as his hands leave my face, but I find quick relief as he grabs me by my hips and uses one hand to swipe off everything on top of a nearby table. The clanging of weapons and tools is jarring as they hit the floor but is easily forgotten as his hands are back on my face.
I never want to be without his touch ever again, I decide. When his skin is against mine, I feel whole.
“This needs to go,” he says, his finger trailing along the scalloped sleeve of my dress. I feel devoid of words as I swallow and nod my head. He smirks, and I watch his finger morph into a claw.
I inhale as I feel the pointed edge glide down my chest as he cuts the dress clean off of me.
“I like those.”
“I know,” he replies, leaning forward and sucking on my lace-clad breasts. I moan and push my chest against his mouth. His hand is back to normal, one gripping my hip and the other fisting my hair.
He sucks on my nipple hard, the line between pleasure and pain fully met, and I can’t hold back a whimper that morphs into a moan.
I fist his hair in return, holding him to my chest, and he makes such a masculine sound of approval I nearly come on the spot. His hair is soft beneath my fingers, and I greedily direct his face to my other breast.
“Wouldn’t want her to feel left out,” he jokes, following my direction and giving my other nipple the same treatment.
His hand leaves my hair and travels down my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.How can someone’s touch be so significant?It’s like my skin is on fire, and the only thing that can put it out is the same person causing the sensation.
Lucifer easily moves my body towards the end of the table, his hand shifting down my stomach, and the back of his fingers graze along the lace covering my cunt.
“Tell me, love, what has you wetter? Was it ending his life with your knife?” He kisses my chest and looks at me. “Was it my claw devesting you with the removal of your pretty dress?” Another kiss lands on my shoulder as his dark eyes meet mine. “Or was it simply my touch?”
“Everything,” I say in a breathy tone.
His fingers still run up and down the lace of my panties, and all I want him to do is slide them to the side and have his way with me.
“Please.”
He arches his eyebrow. That smirk that I’ve grown to be devastated by takes over his face as he looks down at how embarrassingly wet I am for him.
“What do you want, love?”
“Anything, everything, just touch me.”
