Chapter 40
Days Later
I’m not the type to say living together is the same as marriage. I’m not modern. I’m romantic. I’ve always wanted the full package.
A wedding dress, veil, tiara.
A beautiful, tidy home.
Christmas trees in December.
Turkey on Thanksgiving, followed by the whole family gathered to watch the football game.
I like traditions and rituals.
Flowers, romance, and physical touch.
And of course, I like him.
I forgot to include one more thing in that list: I never loved the prince. I fell for the villain.
The now-officially mine, Lucifer.
In my dreams, I had it all. I never thought I’d have to give up part of it.
These past few days, I’ve been so excited about us living together, even if for the wrong reasons, that I never stopped to imagine how I’d feel today.
I didn’t get married. I signed a contract.
“We belong to each other,” he told me as he pulled me into a kiss. I know I’m his, I always have been, and I always will be.
But what about the other way around? Can anyone own Death?
I look out the window of the private jet, even though I can’t see much beyond streaks of sunlight breaking through the clouds.
This morning was gorgeous, the sky so clear it felt like nature was mocking me. Its beauty in sharp contrast with my wedding. No memories, no photos, no guests.
I keep telling myself I knew the cards on the table from the start, so I have no right to feel sad. If it weren’t for the threat hanging over my head, he’d probably still be watching me from a distance… forever? Yes, maybe forever.
The flight attendant calls my name and I lift my gaze to her. When she offers me a drink or something to eat, I give her the fakest smile in the world, thank her, and shake my head.
Then I glance at the seatbelt sign and unbuckle.
The whole time, I’m aware of Lucifer’s eyes on me. I purposely don’t look back, because even though I know “Alston women” never cry, I’m about to humiliate myself by breaking down in front of the man who’s never lied to me. Never promised me anything beyond keeping me alive, protecting me.
I step into the suite at the back of the plane and head straight for the bathroom. A moment later, I hear the door open again, but I don’t check who it is.
I wash off the light makeup I wore and catch my reflection: hair pulled into a loose bun, a simple but beautiful strapless white dress, the straight cut flattering my frame, and the matching necklace and earrings he gave me.
“Mrs. Di Maggio,” I test my new last name in a whisper.
The change, however, was purely a formality. I’ve belonged to Lucifer long before he realized it himself.
I take a deep breath and prepare to return to the bedroom.
I’m sure the second he touches me, I’ll forget the disappointment of not having my dream wedding.
But even though I’m craving his kisses and the heat of his body over mine, I know I can’t let it always be like this, that the love I feel for Lucifer can’t keep making me give up what matters to me.
I don’t want to become a shadow. To be more than just another in his life, I need to be by his side, not behind him like some protected treasure or on a pedestal like his “sacred one,” as he once called me.
He has to see me as an equal. As his woman.
And then, I realize I have no right to demand the truth if I’m not willing to give the same in return.
So I go back to the bedroom, determined to save part of the day. I may not have had the wedding of my dreams, but our wedding night will be unforgettable.
Lucifer
I’ve never been the type to pay attention to other people’s feelings. Actually, to feelings at all. Not even my own.
Let me rephrase that.
I’d never been able to pay attention to feelings.
But after Jackie came to stay with me, I became obsessed with deciphering everything about her.
From a smile, wanting to know what made her happy so I could recreate it endlessly, to a flicker of sadness, like the one she had earlier in her seat on the plane, even though she tried to hide it.
I followed her into the suite of the jet I chartered to take us to New Orleans. We’ll spend a few days with Beau and Amber before heading to a Caribbean island, because if I couldn’t give her the kind of wedding she dreamed about as a teenager, I can at least give her a honeymoon.
I watch her step out of the small bathroom and pause at the doorway. I didn’t turn the light on on purpose.
It makes sense, since it seems we’ve always found each other in the dark.
Besides, I’ve memorized every inch of her. I could describe her birthmarks and freckles.
The dimple at the base of her spine.
A tiny callus on her left pinky toe.
The way she bites her lower lip when she’s holding back a laugh.
“Come here,” I call.
She doesn’t obey right away. She takes two steps, leaving the strip of bathroom light behind, and reaches behind her to undo the dress.
“Should I get naked?” she asks.
“Gonna do everything I tell you now that we’re married?” I shoot back, getting to my feet and moving toward her.
I almost smile at how ready she is to argue with my provocation. There’s nothing submissive about Jackie.
She doesn’t answer, but my gut tells me she’s got something planned for tonight.
“Want to be my obedient wife?”
Finally, I see that fire spark in her beautiful eyes.
“In bed. Outside it, we’re equals.”
“In bed sounds like a good start.”
“Obedience in bed is all you’re getting.”
I push the curtain of hair covering her strapless bra over her shoulder and bend to kiss her neck.
“We’ll see.”
I catch the movement of her throat as she swallows after my challenge, and my hand moves there, palm flat.
Her eyes shine like jewels, and I can tell she’s on edge, waiting for what I’ll do next.
“I disappointed you today,” I say.
She tries to look away, but I grip her jaw to make her meet my eyes.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Tell me.”
“I had dreams for when I married you.”
I hide my surprise.
“Your teenage dream was to marry me?”
“Haven’t you figured that out yet? It’s always been you, Lucifer. Always will be. I didn’t care when you said to keep feelings out of it. You can’t order me around on that. No one controls the love I feel for you, not even me.”
My hand slides down her bare thigh, gripping hard enough to feel the silk of her skin, and she shivers.
I’m a fucking mess, her words hitting me like alcohol to fire.
I want to stop her from saying it, because I know in a few years she might hate me, but at the same time, I want to force her to keep saying it. To swear she’ll never take those words back.
I feel her heat against my palm.
Jackie’s body is fevered, aching for mine, and her eyes are like a storm-tossed sea, that brilliant blue shining in the dark like precious stones.
My fingers graze the back of her thigh, and I lift one leg around my waist.
“Touch me. Take off my shirt.”
“You’ve never let me undress you.”
She obeys, her hands going to the collar of my shirt, undoing the buttons. Then her lips trail down my skin.
“Bite me. Scratch me the way I know you like to. You’re mine. Give me everything, Jackie.”
She gasps, and I lower my mouth to take control of hers.
Jackie moans into my tongue as I push forward, letting her feel my hard length against her stomach.
I catch her lower lip between my teeth, sucking the flesh.
It’s a rough kiss, and she presses against me, offering herself to my hands.
We groan into each other’s mouths, our bodies grinding in mutual torture.
She finishes unbuttoning my shirt, and her teeth and tongue move to my chest, biting light at first, then harder, sending a jolt of pain and pleasure mixed.
My fingers slip inside her panties, finding the needy wetness of her desire. Her clit throbs under my thumb, and she whimpers when I attack it mercilessly.
Her breath is hot and heavy against my skin.
I sink one finger into her soaked pussy, then another, fucking her slowly, preparing her for me. The hunger tearing through me is uncontrollable.
That tight little nub pulses against my thumb, and her moans grow until she’s begging for release without shame.
Every time my fingers drive into her, Jackie promises me anything if I don’t stop touching her. Her lack of control unsteadies me. I carry her to a piece of furniture doubling as a desk and set her on the wooden surface. I don’t let her close her thighs, planting her feet on it instead.
With a sharp tug, I tear her panties away, giving me full access to the sex that’s begging to be taken.
I make her lean back and step away. Like some caveman, I take a moment to admire my woman. Passionate, surrendered, all mine.
Jackie has never looked more beautiful, wearing nothing but the white lace strapless bra and the stilettos she had on at the courthouse—her nipples hard enough to pierce the fabric.
Right now, she’s an unashamed goddess.
I hook both her thighs over my shoulders and bury my face in the pussy that’s become my addiction.
One hand reaches up, pinching her nipple, while my tongue gives her no rest, licking her slick folds, sucking her clit, thrusting deep into her tight walls.
Her orgasm hits without warning, and she comes so hard her sweetness runs down my chin.
I’m starving and keep sucking until her legs go limp.