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Suddenly, I had an insatiable need ...
This night may have started out dominated by death, but it would end with healing.
I reached for Lucifer’s waistband for the second time tonight, only now my thoughts were anchored firmly in the present. “I want to see you too.”
His eyes blazed, and then he ripped his shirt over his head at the same time I pushed his pants and briefs down his hips. Lucifer kicked them aside. A gasp caught in my throat as his steel cock sprang free. I only had one to compare it to, yet I was willing to bet that as far as dicks went, the devil’s was divine.
He gave me a moment to stare shamelessly, and then he stepped forward. My legs opened as though he’d commanded them to. He cupped my chin, tilted my head back, and our gazes locked. “Willa.”
My throat worked overtime. “That’s me ...”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Still good?” I nodded in his grip, and his smile widened.
Deep waves of throbbing heat ignited between my legs, expanding through my core.
I needed to be closer.
I smoothed my palms over the contoured ridges of his abdomen, but all my sexual prowess ground to a halt when the muscles jerked in a way that screamed discomfort.
I feathered my fingers over the area where he’d reacted, taking in the deep shade of purple. “How bad does it hurt?”
“It’s nothing. A few bruised ribs.”
Only Lucifer would enter a death match and come out looking like he’d gotten in a schoolyard scuffle.
Then I remembered how in the locker room shower I’d climbed him like a tree and—
My head snapped up, my eyes wide.
Lucifer choked out a knowing half laugh and winced again. “It was all worth it. I assure you.”
Was he talking about participating in a death match to defend my honor or entertaining a horny girl who’d gyrated on his six-pack to get herself off?
I smothered my embarrassment in his chest and prayed my flaming flesh didn’t give him third-degree burns. “I’m bloody dreadful.”
“Not quite.” He picked me up and held me to him. “Enthusiastic, I’d say. Sometimes a pain in my ass. But never dreadful.”
I laughed into the crook of his neck, and he patted my butt. “The water’s going to get cold.” He carried me into the awaiting shower, nibbling on any part of me he could reach, kissing and humming sounds of intent until we were under the spray and I was standing on my own two feet. Then spun me around, pulling me into the hard plane of his body. “May I wash you?” he asked.
A man had never bathed me before.
I looked up at him over my shoulder and sucked in a breath. I shoved away the painful memories that wanted to ruin this moment for me. “I think I might like that.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll make certain that you do.”
Lucifer reached for the soap. I dipped my chin, and he used a gentle touch on my cheek to draw me back.
“Eyes up here,” he murmured, adding a sweet peck on my lips. “Stay with me.”
He held my gaze as his lathered fingers worked their way over my skin. His soft touch moved with fluidity, exploring at a pace that left me drowsy and weak. Every point of contact—his hands and chest, the warm erection that bumped against my lower back—took my senses to new heights.
I’d never been cherished this way before, and I somehow knew that I never would be again. A level of arousal that felt less about physical sex and more about emotional intimacy consumed me.
Lucifer’s breath against my molten flesh came in hot, uneven bursts that added to the frenzy I was already experiencing. His palm glided over my breasts, and he rolled a thumb over my nipple. My weighty lids fell shut. I thought I’d reached my personal state of nirvana, but then the gentle stroke of his fingers reached between my thighs ...
I all but fainted as I buckled in his arms.
He steadied me on my feet and readjusted me in his embrace. The pressure on my clit fell away, and a pathetic whimper escaped my lips.
