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Grace’s breast popped into my mind, and I groaned.
Lucifer wouldn’t know. He would assume I was touching myself because I just needed the release. I was an incubus, after all.
I checked our communication path, confirming he wasn’t listening in on me. He was most likely busy with his new brides. I gripped my hard cock, squeezing it at the base. A groan rumbled through my chest and I closed my eyes, imagining Grace while I began stroking my dick. I twisted my wrist, circling my palm at the tip, smearing my thumb over the slit to spread my pre-cum over my veiny length.
I pictured all the things I would have done to the girl. How I wanted her on her knees, mouth open to take all of my cock down her throat. Hell, I even imagined her dead body while I touched myself.
When I first saw her singing along to my songs at the concert, I wanted to jump off the stage and close the space between us. I would have fisted her hair, spun her around, and bent her over to fuck her while the crowd watched. I would have defiled her, blackening her soul and tarnishing her purity.
Grace.She wasn’t a grace. She was nothing but a sinner that I wanted to consume until there was nothing left of her but a shell.
My dick jerked and I released a shaky breath, stroking myself faster.
I imagined her squeezing me as I slammed my erection into her tight, virgin pussy. Her screams of pain would morph into pleasure as I pistoned into her heat and slapped her juicy ass, making her squeeze me tighter. I’d even slip a finger into her untouched asshole.
Would she scream for me? Beg me to fuck her harder? Or would she whimper, crying for me to stop hurting her and be gentler?
My balls drew up, pleasure licking up my spine and making me shudder. I spilled into my hand, my hot cum coating my palms as I jerked my dick faster to work all of it into the water.
My overflowing energy lightened by a fraction, but it wouldn’t be enough. I needed a living person to use so I could find relief.
Reality crashed into me, and I yanked my hand away from my softening dick. I cleaned my hands and got out of the pool, slipping into a black robe that lay on the single chair by the door. Lucifer couldn’t ever know about this. He couldn’t learn of the thoughts I had of his bride.
That crossed into dangerous territory that could get me killed.
9
GRACE
Igasped for air, wheezing as I inhaled. I opened my eyes, rapidly blinking to clear my vision. My eyeballs felt like shriveled raisins, and my chest tightened with every breath I drew in. I blinked again, finally able to see. Once again, I was in the church, staring up at the painting of a woman being raped by a demon.
I jerked my hands and ankles, baring my teeth as the cuffs held me in place. Screaming, I used all my strength to break free from the bonds holding me against the slab. Whispers floated toward my ears, but I couldn’t make out the words. It all buzzed into my fuzzy head, swirling with my racing thoughts. I slowly sat up and rested my arms in my lap.
The room was pitch black and dark, but my eyes eventually adjusted after waiting a few minutes. My mouth was so dry that my tongue stuck to the roof of it every time I swallowed.
I swayed in place, barely blinking and trying to stop the spinning in my head. A fly buzzed near my face, and I couldn’t find the strength to lift my hand to swat it away. I slowly blinked again. Everything moved in waves, like TV static, making it hard to discern any details. With each passing second, it settled down until things returned to normal.
“Grace.”
My body trembled as I exhaled and looked at Layla’s still form. Holding my breath, I stared at her, waiting for her bloody chest to rise and fall.
Jumbled-up memories bubbled to the surface. Catching all of them was impossible, but I did grasp onto a few with recognizable feelings. One face burned into my vision.
Lucien.
I raised my shaking hand. My strength was returning, but I was still unstable. I touched my chest and looked down, watching as I brushed against the open wounds. Blood smeared on my fingertips, and my eyes widened as I dipped my finger into a cut. Pain shot through my body as I fingered the hole where Lucien had stabbed me.
I opened my mouth, and garbled words leaked out of me. I stopped and sucked in a sharp breath.
Why couldn’t I talk?
I brought my bloody hand to my throat, brushing my fingers across an open wound that started on one side and led to the other.
He slit my throat.
A second fly joined the first, buzzing in my ears and melding with the voices I couldn’t make out. My eyes stung with small tears as I held back a sob.
He killed me, and now I was in hell for eternity.
