Chapter Sixty-Two Charlotte #2
He loosens his grip, starting to step away, but I use my foot to drag the other blade toward me. Azmodeus frowns, kicking the knife across the floor, and then he’s on me, positioning his muscled thigh between my legs so that I’m riding it.
I can’t help but want to rock my clit against him eagerly.
It’s like he’s in control of my entire body.
In charge of every desire.
This is what he does. Makes people impulsive, unable to resist.
He licks his lips, his gaze growing impossibly hot as it sweeps over me, and my body responds like a traitor.
“I’ll play nice this time. Won’t make you ache too hard.
Which version would you like, sweetheart?
” He drops his head, and when he lifts it again, suddenly it’s Lucifer, staring back at me, caressing my collar.
Except it’s not him. I know it’s not him.
It’s still Azmodeus.
But my body betrays me all the same.
“My brother?” Lust asks, though it’s Lucifer’s voice I hear.
I stiffen.
He rolls his shoulders, his thigh still pressing between my legs, making me throb with need, and I flinch because then it’s Death I’m looking at. “Or Azrael?”
My desire flares, craving what I haven’t had in days.
He presses closer, Azrael’s massive frame coming over me, and I welcome his touch willingly. He places a hand on my thigh, dragging up my skirt so torturously slow that my insides twist in mortification, even though I’m panting.
I can’t control it, but I don’t want to, and then Azrael’s large, firm hand settles on my belly, a familiar need pooling there, and it’s his voice I hear when he says, “Does Lucifer know that you wish it was me?” He nods down to where he touches me.
“That you wish it was me who’d filled you until you leaked? ”
I press my eyes closed, a tear slipping free.
But it’s not Azrael.
“Stop it, Az,” I hiss. “Whatever this is, stop it.”
Abruptly, Azmodeus releases me, shrugging away from me, and when I open my eyes, it’s his own too-handsome face he’s wearing.
Lust is a weapon.
All my desire turned against me.
I tremble from head to toe. “You’re an asshole.”
Azmodeus swipes his thumb over his lips. “I am, but you love it.”
I wince.
I wish he were wrong.
I haven’t felt this powerless, this exposed, since Lucifer first threw my employment contract at me.
“I hate you,” I mutter, but even as it comes out of my mouth, I know it isn’t true.
I just hate what he does to me. What a shameless slut his sin makes me.
Lust huffs. “Who’s the liar now, lovey?”
He turns to leave.
“You were my friend.”
The words come out more broken than I want them to be.
Azmodeus slowly twists toward me, the emerald of his eyes gleaming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him truly angry before, but the fiery look he gives me then is unnerving.
“I am your friend.” His nostrils flare. “And because I’m your friend, because I care about you, I had to teach you about our world the hard way.” He huffs. “You think I want to hurt you like this? Like my brother used to do?” He tries to brush a stray hair from my cheek.
But I swat his hand away.
His face hardens.
“Look around, Charlotte. Who do you see standing here? As you wait for your death?”
I inhale, more tears running down my cheeks. “No one. I see no one.”
Not even Azrael.
Azmodeus’s eyes soften, like he really does care for me, in his own twisted way. “In our world, the only one you can ever fully rely on is yourself. You think love is going to get you anywhere with our siblings? With Lucifer?” He shakes his head. “Love’s not going to help you.”
My breath stutters. “Of course, you’d think that.”
I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.
Lust doesn’t do love.
He does obsession, desire, possession.
But not love.
Never that.
“And what is going to help me? Fucking the people who care for me? Like you?”
“Putting yourself first,” he mutters. “Putting your own desires before everything. That’s the only way you’re going to survive this.”
“So, you decided to serve me up to Michael? To teach me a lesson?”
“No.” He swipes a thumb over those perfect lips again. “No, that wasn’t the only reason. But that doesn’t concern you.”
He says it like it’s a dark promise of what’s to come, and it sends a chill through me. I don’t know what he means, and I’m not sure I want to find out.
“Like it or not, I activated you, Charlotte. Maybe someday you’ll thank me for it.” He cups my cheek, and the desire, the longing it ignites in me makes me shiver. “Even if it makes you hate me.”
I shudder.
But he releases me, and I recoil in disgust.
If he weren’t so fucked up, he’d make someone out of their mind in love with him.
Their heart wouldn’t even stand a chance.
I stare up into his face, into those haunted emerald eyes. He’s even more broken than Lucifer.
Azmodeus steps away, and Azrael appears at my side a moment later. The real one.
Lust must’ve blocked him from getting to me.
He moves in front of me, shielding me protectively, and I start to shake.
This really is the end.
Azmodeus isn’t going to help me, save me.
“Why?” I ask as Lust walks away.
The selfishness I get. The desire, the impulsive decision-making. The possession.
Lust is all those things.
But why hurt me?
Azmodeus glances over his shoulder, like he wrote the playbook on seduction, on manipulation, and he expects me to thank him for it. “You’re the only person who’s ever tried to love me.” He shrugs.
He really thinks he was helping me? Like this was some divine favor? Or some twisted expression of love? But this is his idea of love, isn’t it?
Dark. Devious. Seductive.
Devastating.
I collapse into Azrael’s arms, the last of my hope torn out of me. “But what am I supposed to do?” I call after him. “What am I—”
“You’re one of us now. Figure it out for yourself, Charlotte,” he calls back, not even looking at me.
I shiver, because I don’t want to admit it, but he’s right.
I belong in this glittering, vicious world.
And like it or not, maybe it’s time to start seeing how wicked I can be.