Chapter Twenty-One Charlotte
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlotte
Neither Azrael nor I manage to say anything as we climb the stairs toward the penthouse’s fifth floor.
I think we’re both in a bit of shock. Over the devastation, the aftermath, the anger I just unleashed, Lucifer, and now this.
Neither of us even seems able to look at the other, but I can’t help but wonder what the Angel of Death is thinking.
Is he angry? Grateful? Turned on?
All that and more?
Honestly, I can’t tell, and the thought concerns me.
I should have consulted him first.
But my own reckless desires got the better of me.
One more reason to keep the rage inside me locked down.
Like my father and his congregation taught me.
Finally, when we’re alone inside the playroom, I distract myself from my guilt by retrieving my pillow and placing it where it’s supposed to be, at the foot of Lucifer’s chair. I know how Azrael still feels about Lucifer despite all the times he’s tried to deny it.
Some small part of me can’t help but hope that maybe, one day, there might be . . . a future. For the three of us.
I push the thought aside as I settle myself in front of Lucifer’s throne. Lowering to my knees, I drop my head and try to mentally place myself into submission. Lucifer said this was one time only, and I have to be okay with that if I want to be with him. I have to be.
I focus on my breathing.
In and out. Slowly.
Azrael wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. Would he?
I open my eyes, expecting to find him waiting there on the floor beside me.
Instead, he’s standing on the throne’s dais, wearing a furious expression that reminds me all too much of when we first started training. An odd mix of agitation and desire, and also . . .
Something darker.
Something hungry.
“Aren’t you going to—”
“I kneel for no one,” he growls, the dark look in his eyes flashing as he assumes his place on the throne’s right-hand side, like the perfect soldier at ease. “And you’ll call me sir.”
I pale slightly.
When we’re alone, Daddy Death is one thing, but with Lucifer here, I’m getting two Doms for the price of one, apparently.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
I worry my lower lip, a delicious mix of excitement and a lick of fear overtaking me.
Azrael’s made it obvious there’s a clear hierarchy to the three of us playing.
And I’m at the very bottom, it seems.
Caught between Death and the devil.
I can think of worse places to be.
“Are you angry with me?” I whisper, gazing up at him.
Azrael’s expression remains distant, cold. “Would it matter?” The skeletal side of his face flashes as he looks at me, his scarred brow hitching.
“Yes,” I say, eyes pleading.
His resolve softens.
Azrael prowls forward, standing so that I’m eye level with his belt buckle, and the massive swell of his cock is right in my—
Oh. Oh.
I swallow thickly.
My mouth starts to water, and I lick my lips as Azrael tips my chin up, grinning like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “Be a good girl now and don’t get us in trouble with your other daddy. Okay, little siren?”
I nod weakly.
I’m putty in Death’s hands.
I’ll do whatever he wants. Whatever he asks of me.
I know I’ll be rewarded for it later.
Azrael steps away, a smug expression on his face as he climbs back up onto the dais.
My knees loosen, and I have to resist the urge to rock back and forth, rubbing my clit against my pillow at the sight of him, here, in the playroom with me.
This is every fantasy I’ve had since I first dreamed of him, and more.
My gaze hungrily traces over all the dark ink on his arms.
“Are you going to—”
“I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t want to be, Charlotte,” he says without looking at me, like he knows exactly how to quiet my anxious mind.
I nod, hesitating. “About what you said earlier . . .”
“I meant it.” Azrael’s cool blue eyes turn to me, and the intensity in them is so sharp, so severe, my breath catches. “Nothing’s going to change that.”
My heart races.
I believe him.
Death’s presence in my life is constant.
He’s loyal. Without a doubt.
An anchor for when Lucifer untethers me.
I open my mouth to say as much, but the door to the playroom opens, and the devil enters.
I stiffen.
I quickly drop my gaze, looking down at the floor like I’m supposed to.
With Lucifer, I sometimes like to misbehave, test my boundaries, to see what he’ll do to punish me, to remind me of his love, but with Azrael, I always want to be a good girl.
A tingling sensation erupts all over my body.
I don’t know how to act currently.
The sound of Lucifer’s Armanis striking the floor is deliberate, unhurried, if a bit staggered from where his leg was injured from whatever happened beneath the flood’s waters.
The staff downstairs must have bandaged him and given him a fresh change of clothes, because he’s no longer soaked through like Azrael and me.
I try not to think about what it felt like to watch him disappear beneath the waves, how panicked I was thinking that he might be . . .
I push the thought aside, focusing on the here and now.
That’s what this is about after all.
I’m not going to waste another moment doubting what I want.
I’m going to grab life by the devil’s horns.
Or Death’s wings.
Why choose?
I can’t speak for Lucifer or Azrael, but the idea of escaping like this, of stepping out of the chaos of the apocalypse, even just for a little while, already has me soaked.
I’m aching for it.
For both of them.
Lucifer’s Armanis come to a stop as they enter my line of vision, and I can hardly breathe from the relief, the anticipation that fills me.
God, I’ve needed this.
We’ve all needed this.
“Same protocol as always, darling.” Lucifer pats my head like I am his pet, his creature, and no matter what awful and wicked things I might do, I always will be.
And I love it.
Nearly as much as I love him.
I’m devoted to him, truly.
I lean into his touch, sinking into my role eagerly as I lower my head and kiss both of his shoes like he taught me.
The polished smell of the leather fills my nose like a homecoming.
God, I’ve missed this. Missed him.
It’s been too long since I’ve had him like this.
“And you.” Lucifer pivots toward Azrael, and the tension in the room shifts, pulling tighter than one of his piano’s strings. “I will remind you only once who’s in charge here.”
I chance a look from where I’m knelt on my pillow, curiosity getting the better of me.
“And who’s that?” Azrael smirks wickedly.
The brief flash of challenge in Azrael’s eyes as he meets Lucifer’s gaze is palpable.
I feel myself slicken.
Oh, this is going to be good.
Apparently I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this.
They’re both just as into this as me.
I sit on my hands to keep from touching myself before one of my daddies lets me.
My daddies . . .
I press my lips together, trying to hide my amusement.
Even if it’s the thrill of my husband’s punishment I’m craving currently.
“You know better than to keep her waiting,” Lucifer growls to Azrael.
“Yes, sir,” Azrael quips back, his tone mocking.
I can’t help but whimper in need.
I glance down, struggling to hide my eager grin.
This is already so much better than I imagined.
Azrael stares directly at Lucifer, unwilling to yield to him.
Lucifer climbs up and onto the dais, circling Azrael, his gaze raking over Death from head to toe. The corded muscles, the tattoos, the low-hanging jeans that do nothing to hide the massive swell at Azrael’s fly.
“Stop smirking like the greedy little slut you’ve become,” Lucifer snarls, his head snapping in my direction.
As if I’ve been accidentally sending my thoughts to him down our connection.
I pale slightly, dropping my head and my grin.
It’s like he can see out of the back of his head or something.
“Yes, sir,” I mutter, trying my best to sound obedient.
But I’ve been dying to be a brat lately.
And it’s obvious to us all.
I peek up at him again.
The look Lucifer gives me is one of mild amusement. Like he isn’t surprised, but he’s also incredibly proud of me.
And that kind of pride in the hands of the devil can be dangerous.
Devastatingly so.
A slow, devious grin spreads across his features, that all-too-familiar grin lighting up my insides in every way.
He’s been biding his time, waiting for the exact moment when I’d finally fuck up and give in to my addiction to him again.
Just long enough for him to have an excuse to draw out my every dark, wicked desire, every delicious punishment he’s been planning ever since the last time he and I were alone in the playroom.
And now he has Death to use as one of his tools against me.
I swallow, my limbs going weak.
I seriously need to stop thinking with my pussy.
Lucifer’s chin tips up, and beside him Azrael steps forward, like even without words he knows exactly what he and Lucifer are going to do to me.
Why did I not recognize the monstrous duo I was creating?
Death prowls toward me as the devil smirks at me, and my breath quickens.
Oh fuck.