bring out the shine in her dark hair rather than the corpse gray skin. He couldn’t decide what he wanted to do first. Every fantasy of her crowded his brain until he was dizzy. Then one thought stood out from the rest. He pulled back from her so that he could gaze at her. As much as he enjoyed the feeling of her against him, he wanted to visually explore his reward.
Michelle remained still and silent like a bunny caught in a hunter’s scope, hoping that Lucifer had forgotten she existed. She wasn’t sure what he was doing. He was just staring at her, and smiling, letting his eyes roam over her body. She had expected to be thrown on the bed by now and had even braced for it.
He took her face in his hand, only to stop. He was going to grab her and plunge his tongue into her mouth, but the feeling of her skin under his numb hands stopped him. Her skin was impossibly soft. It was the softest thing he had ever touched, softer than his own wings tucked deep in his back. It was beyond velvet or silk, and it made him gasp. He could feel, feel something other than bleakness. He trembled as he held her face. What would it be like to kiss her? He nearly fell to the floor, his knees no longer existing. He stroked her face and watched the confusion play across it. She was perplexed, while he was spellbound. He felt like he was flying, something he used to enjoy but had long lost the taste for.
Michelle waited for Lucifer to hurt her. His breathing was staggered and rough. She knew it was only a matter of time before he pounced on her. She wondered if she could fight him off.
He slowly trailed his hand down her neck to her collarbone, then between her breasts and further to where the dress hid her from view. Decadence. He studied her breasts and the way they defied gravity beneath the thin material covering them. He had never wanted to hold something so badly in his life. His hands shook as he laid them over the large full mounds. Perfection. All he had to do was pull the material aside and they would be laid out before him. They could wait for the moment. He wanted other things. He could feel his cold body surging to life. His skin tingled and tightened while his heart tried to break loose from his chest.
Of all the countless sexual experiences he’d had in his unending life, this was the best by far. The other women, and men, he’d taken over the years physically satisfied him but left him barren inside. He felt nothing for them, except disdain or hatred. The sex had been good but never emotionally satisfying. He took no joy from it, only release. He never felt happy. It was purely an experience of the flesh, which heated him in the moment, but left him cold and empty. He was never excited nor did he experience the anticipation of the moment. He merely fucked and left. He took more delight from their pain, humiliation, or anger than from the actual act. He knew he was ruthless, but there was little to be done about it, until now.
He grabbed the top of her arm and leaned down to crush his lips against hers. Again, he stilled at the contact. Electricity jolted through his whole body. There was a whirlwind of emotion raging inside him, barely contained. Was it possible that her lips were even softer than her skin? They were warm and sweet like honey. He moaned against them, and then inhaled her scent. Under the normal scent of Hell, he found the scent of her skin, sweet and sensual. He growled and pulled at her lips, nearly biting her. He kissed her roughly at first, but slowed to a passionate dance. Where her lips had been unyielding at first, she was now moving along with him and he liked it. He liked that she wanted to kiss him back.
Mine, and no one else’s , he vowed to himself. He would kill anyone who laid a finger on her.
His hands moved back to her luscious breasts and carefully squeezed one lightly at first, making
Michelle remained still and silent like a bunny caught in a hunter’s scope, hoping that Lucifer had forgotten she existed. She wasn’t sure what he was doing. He was just staring at her, and smiling, letting his eyes roam over her body. She had expected to be thrown on the bed by now and had even braced for it.
He took her face in his hand, only to stop. He was going to grab her and plunge his tongue into her mouth, but the feeling of her skin under his numb hands stopped him. Her skin was impossibly soft. It was the softest thing he had ever touched, softer than his own wings tucked deep in his back. It was beyond velvet or silk, and it made him gasp. He could feel, feel something other than bleakness. He trembled as he held her face. What would it be like to kiss her? He nearly fell to the floor, his knees no longer existing. He stroked her face and watched the confusion play across it. She was perplexed, while he was spellbound. He felt like he was flying, something he used to enjoy but had long lost the taste for.
Michelle waited for Lucifer to hurt her. His breathing was staggered and rough. She knew it was only a matter of time before he pounced on her. She wondered if she could fight him off.
He slowly trailed his hand down her neck to her collarbone, then between her breasts and further to where the dress hid her from view. Decadence. He studied her breasts and the way they defied gravity beneath the thin material covering them. He had never wanted to hold something so badly in his life. His hands shook as he laid them over the large full mounds. Perfection. All he had to do was pull the material aside and they would be laid out before him. They could wait for the moment. He wanted other things. He could feel his cold body surging to life. His skin tingled and tightened while his heart tried to break loose from his chest.
Of all the countless sexual experiences he’d had in his unending life, this was the best by far. The other women, and men, he’d taken over the years physically satisfied him but left him barren inside. He felt nothing for them, except disdain or hatred. The sex had been good but never emotionally satisfying. He took no joy from it, only release. He never felt happy. It was purely an experience of the flesh, which heated him in the moment, but left him cold and empty. He was never excited nor did he experience the anticipation of the moment. He merely fucked and left. He took more delight from their pain, humiliation, or anger than from the actual act. He knew he was ruthless, but there was little to be done about it, until now.
He grabbed the top of her arm and leaned down to crush his lips against hers. Again, he stilled at the contact. Electricity jolted through his whole body. There was a whirlwind of emotion raging inside him, barely contained. Was it possible that her lips were even softer than her skin? They were warm and sweet like honey. He moaned against them, and then inhaled her scent. Under the normal scent of Hell, he found the scent of her skin, sweet and sensual. He growled and pulled at her lips, nearly biting her. He kissed her roughly at first, but slowed to a passionate dance. Where her lips had been unyielding at first, she was now moving along with him and he liked it. He liked that she wanted to kiss him back.
Mine, and no one else’s , he vowed to himself. He would kill anyone who laid a finger on her.
His hands moved back to her luscious breasts and carefully squeezed one lightly at first, making
Similar Books
