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Chapter1
Sophia
There’s nowherein the world I would rather be than right here.
The morning sun filters at a lazy slant through the window, warming the covers. The bed is soft and deep, a cradle for our sleepy embrace. The warmth of Lucas’s chest against my back, the feel of his strong arms around me, the movement of his even breaths in my hair. I’m safe here, with him: safe and protected.
There’s a subtle change in his body and breath as he wakes up. His arms tighten around me possessively as a growl rumbles in his throat. I melt into him, letting him crush my body against his. I could live like this to my last breath, wrapped in the comfort and security of his arms.
He kisses the back of my neck, sending a pulse of arousal through my sleepy body. Comfort and security is all well and good, but his touch makes me want more. I grind back against him, feeling his cock press hard against my ass. His hand sweeps lazily over my body until it reaches my breast, which he cups and caresses.
With a wordless sound of pleasure, I turn my head to kiss him. His kiss starts off warm, then quickly grows into something like an inferno. The laziness falls away from his hands as they mold me, touching all the places he knows turn me on most. The ache of want deepens as I taste his skin, losing myself in his touch.
In a swift, smooth motion, he rolls us. I end up on my back as he props himself up on his arms, hovering over me.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.
He settles between my legs, hinting at what’s to come without actually going there. I like him here, looking down at me with that possessive gleam in his eyes. They’re gorgeous and arresting, the irises a deep brown color with amber starbursts around his pupils.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I breathe, grinning up at him.
I run my fingers through his thick, silky brown hair, brushing my palms against his high cheekbones. Letting my hands fall slowly, I gently caress the rest of his face. That long, straight, aristocratic nose. The strong, angular jaw. Those lips, capable of holding so many expressions at once, capable of giving and receiving so much pleasure.
His beauty is vast and otherworldly.
“I should have known you were the devil,” I whisper, sleep still lingering in my voice.
His loving smile becomes a teasing smirk in a flash; I love it when he does that. He kisses my collar bone, pressing against me.
“Oh? Why is that? Is it because you knew I was wicked?” His mouth moves to my neck, tasting the sensitive skin there, making my pulse race against his lips. “Or because I led you into temptation?”
I laugh at his cocky response before he steals my mouth, swallowing my laughter and transforming it into a hum of need. His kiss is a hot demand and a leisurely request all at once, slowly and irresistibly melting me into a puddle of desire.
“Mm,” I murmur when he releases me. “Deliver me unto that kind of evil any day of the week.”
He chuckles, kissing my shoulders and neck, teasing my breasts, moving against me. I run my hands over his broad, muscular body, loving the warmth of him under my palms, the weight of him pressing me into the bed.
“Is it truly delivery if you come willingly?” he asks, moving over me in a way that gives “come” a distinct double meaning.
“It’s not delivery, it’s desire,” I say with a chuckle that turns into a moan. He’s got my head spinning already, and he hasn’t even begun.
He pulls away to look down at me, bracing himself on his arms. He smiles fondly as his eyes burn with raw desire. I used to think he was unreadable. Now I know that he simply holds more on his face than most people are capable of reading.
“Flirting with taglines? Is that what the cool kids are doing these days?”
I laugh. “Yeah, it is. You gotta keep up with the times, old man.”
He furrows his brow, fighting a smile. “Okay. Let me try one.” The amused expression falls away, and he’s burning for me once more. His voice is a rough purr, enticing and suggestive. “The best part of waking up—”
But he never gets to finish.
A shock of impact slams through him, me, and the bed, and for an instant I can’t understand what I’m seeing. A golden point protrudes from his chest, needle-thin at the tip and then widening to the size of Lucas’s forearm, curved like a scorpion’s sting.
Our eyes meet for the briefest second as he arches back, roaring with pain, blood pouring from his wound. His blood soaks into the bed, coating my skin, turning our oasis of cozy morning sex into a gory bog.
The magical shimmer over his skin before he shifts into his demon form is choppy and inconsistent, a patchwork. While his face remains human, huge black wings sprout from his back. His tail wraps around my ankle with a desperate squeeze. His skin changes from the glowing California tan to the dark gray color of his demon form, glistening dully red where his blood has spilled.
Huge, curved talons grow from his fingertips, raking uselessly at the air. His face finally catches up with his body, his eyes glowing red in his dark skin. Vicious-looking curved horns sprout from his head, and his thick, wavy brown hair turns midnight black as Lucas melts away entirely, leaving a roaring, bloody, desperate Lucifer in his place.
