His lips slant over my lips.
His tongue presses, insistent, seeking entrance.
He’s so soft, his cheeks, his lips.
His tongue.
My lips give way to him and I feel myself opening up, eager to taste him.
Eager to be devoured.
He kisses me until all the resistance goes out of me, until I’m slumping against the door. My knees weaken. He kisses me until I’m breathless and clinging to his shirt.
Pulling slowly away from me, his eyes are hooded. His lips swollen and glistening.
Reaching down, he tenderly brushes the hair from my eyes and it’s so tender it hurts.
He treats me with more care, with more affection than Marshall ever did, but he doesn’t seem to care about what I want. I get no choices. I have no power.
Yet my body doesn’t care.
A part of me just wants to give in. To stop fighting. To melt in his arms.
Why keep fighting? Why not just enjoy the moment? It would be so easy to live in the now and forget about tomorrow…
But I’ve done that before. I’ve ignored my better instincts. I’ve let little things slide until they became big things and I no longer had any control.
And where did it get me? It got me here.
“It’s not right. Don’t you see that? You can’t just own a person. I’m not a pet, my children and I aren’t animals. You can’t just claim us or act as if you own us. It’s wrong.”
Lucifer blinks at me in surprise and then frowns. His eyes harden and his voice is cold. “It is wrong… to you,” he agrees, surprising me. “And I don’t give a fuck. Right or wrong. Black or white. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. In my world, I see something I want, I take it. I took you.”
My eyes prickling with tears, I say, “That doesn’t mean you can get away with this… even if you don’t see what’s wrong with it, doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for you.”
Lucifer nods his head slowly and then his finger sweeps across my cheek, gathering up a tear. He sticks the finger in his mouth and then grins down at me. “It’s the way of the world, Lilith. No one is going to stop me because there is no one stronger to stop me. The strong take and the weak, well, they get taken. No one is going to come along to rescue you.”
He doesn’t have to say it but I feel it hanging in the air.
Your own husband doesn’t even want you.
My tears flood my eyes, blurring my vision and I’m crying in earnest now. All of this is just too fucked up, and I’ve completely lost all hope of him changing his mind and deciding to let us go. He truly believes he’s untouchable.
Lucifer sighs and pulls me close, cradling me in his arms. I’m weak and I need his touch, his heat. His comfort. I bury my face into his chest and cry into his shirt. One hand rubs soothingly down my back while the other tenderly pets my hair.
I can’t even remember the last time someone held me like this when I was upset. Maybe my mother did when I was little?
He lets me cry on him, he lets me soak him with my tears. Once my sobs quiet and I feel like I’ve gotten most of it out, he murmurs. “Don’t worry, my dear. I don’t want to force you, I just want to possess you.”
I shudder in his arms and he sweeps me up. Spinning me around, he carries me to the bed like some gallant prince and gently lowers me down.
He’s being so tender, so careful, he’s making it really hard for me to continue hating him.
A pleasant numbness settles over me as he straightens.
From down here he seems larger than life, almost unreal. The way his eyes glide over my body, drinking me in, I feel desired.
Wanted.
Oh, god, this so wrong. So wrong…
His long, strong fingers go to the collar of his shirt and begin to slowly unbutton it. As his fingers work their way down, my body flushes with anticipation. I’m practically squirming and panting with it.
Shirt open, he yanks it out of his pants and slides it off, revealing hard, bulging biceps and a rippling chest. I knew he was strong, I could feel it when I was trapped in his arms, but I didn’t realize he was packing so much muscle beneath his suit.
My eyes roam over him and now it’s my time to drink him in. To burn his visage into my brain.
He’s so damn beautiful, so damn perfect, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen sculptures of him in a museum.
Fingers latching onto his belt buckle, he flips it open and then yanks the belt hard out of his pants.
As his pants slide down to the floor, revealing his tight black briefs and the obvious erection trapped within them, I come back to my senses.