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Lucifer smiled against my mouth. “I want the next time you come to be on my tongue, beautiful girl. I need to know if you taste as sweet as you smell.”
He sealed his declaration with a devastating kiss, and once again, we were losing ourselves in the abyss of our passion. With my mind, body, and soul I believed that everything transpiring between us was as unprecedented for Lucifer as it was for me.
Breathless and pushed to the brink of our collective sanity, we forced ourselves apart long enough to finish scrubbing and rinsing ourselves and each other. I stepped out of the shower, and Lucifer dried me off with a plush towel. Before my heartbeat had a chance to normalize, he swept me off my feet and carried me from the bathroom.
He lowered me to the bed with the utmost tenderness then stepped back like a painter admiring his work.
But I wasn’t a finished product.
He’d turned me into something better. Something brilliant. Something only Lucifer could create.
A blank canvas.
His searing gaze slid over my skin.
I raised an arm over my head and rested it on the pillow. Then bent a knee and reached for him. “Kiss me. Touch me. Do something. Anything ... everything ... I need this. I need you ...”
His pectorals twitched, and his nostrils flared. Lucifer’s self-control was admirable, and I trusted his power of restraint.
He kneeled on the mattress, and my legs fell open in invitation.
His swollen cock jerked and slapped against his abs, and a feeling of ... emptiness caused my core to ache. We weren’t even touching, yet sensuous, feral sounds that told a tale of yearning made their way out of the back of my throat.
Who had I become? Was this normal? Natural? Healthy? Or was I so damaged when it came to sex that I’d never know?
I swallowed my confusion as my body continued to pine for something it didn’t understand. Lucifer nestled his hips between mine, blanketed me with his body, and the chaos of my thoughts dissolved. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my mouth, and when my eyelids closed with a sigh of contentment, his kiss landed there too.
“You have me,” he breathed. “I’m all yours.”
Wet, hot lips and licks roamed every inch of my flesh, bringing me to the cusp of ecstasy over and over again, but never taking me over the edge.
He took his time, patiently working me into a writhing, sweating puddle of sensations and emotions.
And he lingered over every scar he came across.
He nuzzled my pussy and groaned. My back arched off the bed and my fingers threaded into his hair as I pulled him closer.
His tongue dragged through my seam, and I lost all cognizance of time and space. He pushed a finger inside me, then added a second, curling them until he found pleasure receptors I didn’t know existed.
The euphoric surge of my orgasm slammed into me, a wet rush that sent shimmering lights behind my lids and through my brain. He continued to lick me through waves of glorious spasms until a sob ripped free from the depths of my soul.
“Kiss me,” I begged.
He crawled up my body and delivered what I’d asked for. My most intimate flavor, potent and heady, swirled on our tongues. Lucifer’s engorged cock burned between us, and that feeling of emptiness returned.
“I’m on the pill—I passed all my screenings before I left Dublin.”
His hips pulled away. The tip of his cock brushed against my sensitive clit. I whimpered and gripped his biceps. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, his mouth hovering just inches above mine.
“I’m clean,” he said.
“I trust you.”
An emotion too deep for me to unearth moved across his gaze. He nodded toward the spot above me. “Put your hands over your head.”
Images of handcuffs secured to the headboard leaped to the front of my mind, and I froze beneath him. All feeling drained from my face. “L-Lucifer—” My voice cracked. “I don’t want to be bound—”
I swallowed the ball of panic in my throat before I choked on it.
