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“Why? Because I just saw your sweet ass and pussy. If any of my acolytes were around, I’d have to rip their fucking eyes out.”
I crossed my arms and leveled him with a stare. “Does that mean your acolytes like their women’s bodies to have one of the first two letters of the alphabet?”
He was in front of me before I could draw my next breath. Trapped between his solid body and the sink, the air between us sparked with an undeniable tension.
The shirt rising wasn’t intentional, but me antagonizing him was. I thought myself a pretty intelligent young woman, so I had no idea why I allowed my mouth to continuously lead me to trouble. I blamed my late mother. Dad said I was just like her.
Luce was the wrong person to go head to head with, though. He was eerily perceptive, intelligent, and twice more cunning than I was. But that wasn’t the worst part.
It was his eyes that would be the cause of my demise. Every time I took a dip in those pools of Tartarus, I felt as if he collected another tiny piece of me to add to his arsenal.
“You know…” he trailed off, situating his body against mine.
“When a woman climbs into bed with the devil, she either wants to die by his hand or be fucked raw and bloody.”
I swallowed and attempted to lean back, but there was nowhere to go. Having his body pressing against me sent my nerves into overdrive. He was warm and solid, a mass of muscle and heat.
“I don’t want that. Ever.”
“No? Then tell me what you want, dove, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
For a split second I wondered why he would offer something like that.
The honesty of the words caught me off guard. That’s precisely what made me remember who he was and his warning from the night before.
I straightened my spine, bringing us chest to chest. Stomach flipping, I rolled my lips and then opened my mouth to answer.
He was quick to cut me off.
“Don’t waste your breath on another lie. I already know the answer, it’s screaming at me from behind your eyes.”
A rebuttal sat at the edge of my mind. I wasn’t given the chance to use it, because his next words had it fizzling away.
“Why are you so damned beautiful?” His voice had lowered, and it almost seemed as if the question had been meant for himself. I could have asked him the same thing.
Lucifuge was beautiful in the same way that chaos was. Just like the devil should be.
We stared at one another, speaking without words. His fingers touched my cheek, tracing over the scar that had never quite faded. It was the first and last time a guerilla marked my face.
T
here was a subtle change in Luce’s eyes, one that had a fluttering erupting in my stomach.
He gripped the back of my neck and slammed his lips to mine. All the air dissipated from my lungs. I could barely react before he his tongue was at the seam of my mouth, pushing to gain entry.
I had no idea what I was doing, but my mind seemed to have it all figured out, like kissing him was the most natural thing in the world.
I granted him access, and his tongue delved inside, meeting with mine. He tasted like the mint toothpaste we’d just used. His body eased further between my legs, his large hands going to my thighs.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling as if I were going to combust from tingling nerves and warmth flooding through my veins.
His lips were so soft.
The kiss was anything but.
It was passionate and possessive, a small tease of what was to come. He drew back without warning just as a knock carried from the bedroom, but he didn’t let me go.
My face felt feverish and the space between my thighs ached to the point I had to stop from rubbing against him.
