Itold Lucifer that I was fine, that I didn’t need companionship, nor do I have any issues convincing a woman to warm my bed. But yet, he sends me a woman he knows I can’t resist. Or someone else who knows me well enough has sent her here to what? Gather information on me? The idea makes me smile briefly, as if, after all these years, a pretty woman would be the thing to make me crack.
I’m a devout warrior of Hell and a humble servant to the king of Hell, himself, Lucifer. If he has sent me this demon as a gift, then to not accept would be like slapping the man in the face.
I know for a fact that I’ve never seen the crazy woman who is now lying naked on my bed. Not only because I make it my business to know every demon, corporeal or not, but because she is simply unforgettable in her own right.
Lucifer tends to make his demons beautiful. Why wouldn’t he? The best way to lure unsuspecting souls is by making demons pleasurable to look at. But this woman is beyond the beauty of most of the demons in Hell. Beyond her physical attractiveness, the only other thing I know about her is she has no issues breaking and entering, along with the fact that she is very forward with what she wants.
I haven’t been with a woman for a few months now; I haven’t wanted to. There’s something that happens in immortality that makes you numb. I’ve had rough patches before where I wonder what’s the point of living forever. I’ve never voiced these thoughts around other demons, mostly out of never wanting to show weakness. I thought perhaps that Lucifer felt the same as me at some points, like immortality is too long, but then Lilith came back into his life, and now he seems… happy.
Is my Lord attempting to give me the same happiness he’s found?
Surely, a single woman can’t change how a man feels about his mortality.
Instead of wondering what her presence means and if it’s a gift or a test from the king of Hell, I just give in.
In two easy strides, my knee pushes against the bed, and I wrap my hand around her throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her lips curve into a mischievous smile, and it pisses me off.
My hand tightens around her throat, but her smile doesn’t fade even as her face blooms a bright pink.
I don’t trust the little psychopath, no matter how pretty she is.
“Who sent you?” I ask her, wondering if it is true that Lucifer didn’t send her. What if she was sent here by one of my enemies?
She opens her mouth to speak, but she can’t get a single word out with the grip I have on her throat. I push a piece of dark hair off of her face and take a moment to look at her clear blue eyes.
“Who sent you?” I ask again, this time loosening my hand on her neck enough so she can speak.
“Uh? Me? I was just walking around opening doors, and yours was the first one I opened. If you’re not interested, I’m sure I could find another willing participant,” she taunts. Her hand glides down my chest and fists my length outside of my pants. “It feels like you’re willing, though,” she comments, enunciating each word with a squeeze.
“Who sent you?” I ask again, squeezing her throat.
“Fine, fuck. Lucifer sent me; I’m a gift,” she rasps out, and I loosen my grip on her throat.
“Why would he do that?” I ask her skeptically.
“Maybe because you’ve been such a good boy,” she teases with a laugh and plops down on the bed. Her dark, wild hair is splayed on my pillows, and I like it far more than I should. “My offer still stands… are you watching or joining?”
“Do you have any weapons on you?” I ask her, and she laughs again.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty naked, but you’re more than welcome to do a more thorough search?”
I look over her naked form and this time I really take her in. Every inch of perfect skin is completely exposed to me and laid out like a feast for my pleasure.I decide that no matter why she’s here, I’m going to enjoy this feast before me. I lean down over her on the bed, crowding her space, needing to feel her, taste her, make sure that she’s real.
I lick her smooth stomach, circling my tongue in her navel, and she arches her body towards my face. My hands grip her hips roughly, holding her where I want her, and she doesn’t fight against my hold.
I’ve been in Hell long enough to sense when a demon is powerful, and as my tongue touches her flesh, it’s like I can taste her strength. I can tell that it wouldn’t take much from her to turn the tables and have me pinned down on the bed instead. But she doesn’t. The little demon lets me explore every inch that I want. The noises she’s making just from my touch against her skin has me eager to see how she’ll react when I play with her more sensitive parts.
Surely, she can’t be real. Or she’s lying about being sent here by Lucifer? My built-in paranoia and confusion don’t know how to handle how this escalated so quickly. My mind quickly shuts off when her fingers tangle in my hair, sharp nails digging into my scalp.
“Focus,” she commands, her strength showing as she directs my face to her breasts. I eagerly place the soft, tender flesh into my mouth, sucking and licking her small nipples. “There you go. That feels so good, don’t stop.”
She isn’t pressing me for information; she doesn’t even seem interested in what’s in my room. Her sole focus is just on feeling good—on me making her feel good.
Maybe, for once, I can truly be selfish. I can take what I want and not worry about the aftermath. She came to me and laid herself out for the taking. I don’t give a shit why she’s here, whether a gift from Lucifer or a spy from our enemies. I’m taking what I want.
“Tell me what you want, little demon?”
“Whatever you can give me,” she rasps as her back arches off the bed.
