Chapter 31
“Wait!” Glass crunches beneath my feet as I move to stop him. I hiss from the bite of pain but keep moving. Something tells me that letting him leave right now would be bad, but even beyond that, I don’t want him to leave.
Lucifer is there the next second, scooping me up into his arms, his eyes wide as he curses under his breath. One second we’re in the dining room, the next the world is spinning and we’re in a bedroom.
One guess says it’s his, and just the thought has me flushed.
He moves to the bed, setting me down gently as if I’m fragile, before he stretches out a hand toward the empty fireplace and starts a fire without even looking.
The room warms almost instantly, and I didn’t even realize I was shivering until it stops.
“I didn’t think it was possible to be cold in Hell,” I say with a chuckle as I rub my hands over my arms to soothe out the goosebumps.
“There’s a lot of misinformation about the realm.
The castle sits just past the border, near the river.
The fire and magma of the Earth are on the lower levels.
If you were ever to visit Bast’s level, you’d not only be warm, but I’m pretty certain your flesh would melt from your bones.
” His lips pull down into a frown before he shakes his head.
“Mortals are fragile, but you won’t be going down there, so it doesn’t matter. ”
He rests a hand on my knee before letting his fingers ghost down my leg to wrap around my ankle. Any thought of Bast, his level of Hell, or being cold goes out the fucking window as my body heats as if he just lit me on fire as well.
What the fuck is going on?
He lifts my leg and inspects the bottom of one foot before moving to the other, the frown on his lips deepening.
“It’s just a few cuts. I can take care of them,” I tell him, worried he’s upset about having to help me.
“No.” His voice is hard, and I get the feeling it’s meant to be final.
Not going to happen. I’ve had more than enough of a man trying to control me my whole life.
I snatch my foot from his grasp, and his eyes dart up to meet mine, blazing and black.
Well, he’s clearly upset.
“I can handle them,” I tell him, holding his gaze despite the urge to shrink away. I can’t explain it, but I know he won’t hurt me.
Quick as a whip, he reaches out and grabs my ankle again, yanking it hard enough that I fall back on the bed with an oomph.
“I’m the reason you broke the glass,” he growls, and I feel the vibration of his voice move through me with our proximity, but he keeps his gaze on my foot.
“You startled me. I wasn’t aware anyone else was up. It’s my fault for being so jumpy.” His eyes flick up to meet mine for a moment before they move back to my foot. He holds his free hand near the bottom of my foot, and my eyes go wide when it begins to glow.
“Wait…” I try to yank my foot free again, but he’s ready for it this time and doesn’t even budge. “Ah! Stop, oh my God, stop!”
The sensation of tiny pins and needles moves over my foot, and before I can stop myself, I kick out, catching him right in his unsuspecting face.
I gasp for air, then actually gasp when I realize what I’ve done.
“I’m so sorry. I tried to tell you to stop.” I lean forward in an attempt to check on him, where he sits, unmoving on the floor, his hand holding his jaw.
“I…” I’m lost for words as my eyes move over this beautiful man who, according to Bast, was made for me.
He stands abruptly, moving toward the door, and I can’t look away even if I tried.
“I’ll get Bast to come and help you. I didn’t intend to scare you, Aerilyn, and I wasn’t going to harm you. I’d never hurt you.” His voice is dejected, sad, if I’m not mistaken, and it tugs at my heart.
“You didn’t scare me,” I say in a hurry as his hand closes around the doorknob, and it has the desired effect as he freezes.
“I know you wouldn’t hurt me; it tickled.
That’s why I told you to stop and why I kicked you in the face.
” I want to die of embarrassment as I race to explain before I chicken out.
I kicked the devil in the face.
Without releasing the door, he turns to look at me, his eyes boring into mine as if looking for a lie, but he won’t find one.
It feels like forever, his eyes trailing over me like a physical thing, and I hold my breath against the urge to fidget or do other things.
When he finally lets his hand drop and moves back toward me, I let out a breath of relief, only to quickly realize that means he’s about to be right here again, so fucking close I can smell him.
He smells like smoke, fire, iron, and cinnamon… It shouldn’t smell as good as it does, but I’ll be damned if my mouth doesn’t water.
What is wrong with me?
My heart skips a beat as I watch him drop to his knees before me.
Lucifer is the king of this realm, so why is he on his knees before me, and why does that make my stomach feel like it’s full of butterflies?
Without a word, he holds out a hand to me, palm up; his skin is red as if stained from blood, but still looks soft, and I don’t give myself a moment to overthink it before I reach out, placing my hand in his tentatively.
Touching him is kind of what I picture touching a live wire would be like, minus the dying part. My breath catches as tingles run through me, and from the way he looks at me, I get the feeling I’m not the only one who feels it.
“I can heal you without touching your foot if that’s okay?” he asks, his voice quieter than I’ve heard it before, almost as if unsure.
I’m not sure I could speak even if I wanted to; my mouth suddenly goes dry. I lick my lips before catching my bottom one between my teeth and nodding.
His eyes dart down to watch the movement before shooting back up to meet my gaze, and I watch the white of his eyes begin to bleed black.
The same pins and needles sensation starts in my hand. It still has a ticklish feeling, but it’s not nearly as bad, and I can’t stop the smile that pulls at my lips.
I hear something hit the ground with a tink, and Lucifer scoops it up, holding up a piece of glass for me to see.
“Damn.” Yeah, walking on broken glass might not have been my best idea, but to be fair, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.
“Maybe next time don’t make me walk on broken glass to get to you,” I say in an attempt to lighten the mood. It only takes me a second to see I succeeded in doing the exact opposite when his nostrils flare and his grip on my hand tightens. He’s not holding me hard enough to hurt, yet.
“I didn’t intend for you to see the monster. I’m not sure how you got stuck with me. I’m sorry.”
“What? You're not a monster; you're beautiful.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think better of them.
He chuckles, the sound deep and rough, and it feels as if it reaches out and wraps me up in its warmth.
How can he see a monster when I feel like I’m looking at a god?
I’m not sure who leans in, him or me, or maybe it’s both of us, but suddenly we’re much closer and the air feels thin.
I wasn’t lying; Lucifer is beautiful, from head to toe, but not the same as models on Earth.
His is a tragic beauty that breaks my heart to look at.
He’s pale where you can actually see his skin; most of it is darkened, the same color as the armor that seems to be built into him and his muscles…
I’m not sure what kind of work the devil does to have a physique like that, but I’m grateful for it.
His hair is dark, just like his eyes, a stark difference from his skin, but it only adds to his appeal.
His wings ruffle behind him, catching my attention. Fuck, I want to touch them so bad.
Unlike the guys, his are still feathered, a lot like Ruin’s, but instead of the shocking pure white, Lucifer’s are black.
His eyes are so sad as he looks at me that I can’t help reaching out for him. My hand cups his cheek, rubbing over his high cheekbone. I watch in amazement as his eyes fall closed and he sinks into my touch.
He said he’d never hugged someone; I bet that means he’s never really had much contact.
How lonely.
I move as if in a trance, leaning in until my lips brush ever so lightly against his, hardly more than a brush of skin, but it makes me dizzy all the same. His eyes fly open, and I see the shock, feel it echo in myself. What the hell am I doing?
I jerk back, moving back on the bed to give him and myself space, because my brain is clearly not firing on all cylinders right now.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” His eyes don’t leave mine as I watch him, waiting for him to yell at me or storm out to get Bast at the very least. Instead, he remains where he is, as if unable to move.
I dart my tongue out to lick my lips, telling myself it’s because they feel dry, but the second I taste him, I know it’s a lie, and I can’t fight the soft moan that his flavor pulls from me.
I didn’t know someone could taste so good.
He tastes like burnt marshmallows over a fire, warm and gooey and mine.
Of course he doesn’t miss that, his eyes tracking the movement of my tongue before finally, after what feels like ages, he moves.
Only to do anything but what I thought he would. Instead of leaving or telling me off, he stands. His wings ruffle behind him, and I want to look at them, but I can’t make myself look away from his eyes as he crawls his way across the bed to me, where I sit frozen like a deer in headlights.
I was cold a few minutes ago, but now I feel like I might overheat as he moves over me.
“I-I…” Words don’t come out, and that’s just as well because I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
He hovers above me, my neck craned back as I stare up at him, gaping like a fish out of water. He’s huge; all the guys are compared to me, but right now, with him looking down at me like this, I really feel it.
The whites of his eyes once again bleed black, making it impossible to tell the iris from the rest of his normally black eye as he stares down at me, his eyes flicking from my eyes down to my lips, and I nearly choke on my next breath.
There’s no way… right?
Before I can think or say anything, he leans forward, closing the small gap between us.
There’s nothing soft about this kiss as he presses his lips to mine with nearly bruising force. It’s enough that my arms give, and I fall back on the bed behind me, his bed. Unwilling to break contact, he follows me down, his tongue running along my lower lip as if asking for entry.
I shouldn’t; I hardly even know him, but Bast said he was made for me, and despite how crazy that sounds, it feels right.
I hesitate for a moment before opening, and he pounces, his tongue dipping into my mouth to taste me as his flavor once again hits me, our shared groans of pleasure mixing and making my already growing need ten times worse.
His hands are on my face, around my neck, in my hair, trailing down my side, everywhere but the one place I want them.
Wait, what?
It takes me longer than I’d like to admit before I finally remember myself. Tentatively, I reach up, brushing a hand through his hair as my tongue moves with his, my breathing coming in harsh pants as my body comes alive with a fire I’ve never felt before.
Fuck, his hair is soft.
His chest rumbles, vibrating my own, and I smile against his lips.
Apparently, he enjoys having his hair played with.
One second he’s pressed against me, allowing me to feel every hard plane of his body as we explore each other’s mouths, and the next, he’s gone.
Blinking hard, I press back up on my elbows and look around. Usually, when they teleport, I feel it, like static in the room, but this wasn’t like that.
Lucifer stands near the fireplace, breathing hard. He braces his hands on the mantle, leaning down before standing back up, and I swallow down the urge to apologize again.
He kissed me this time, though.
I stay quiet, watching him as he struggles with, I don’t even know what, before finally turning back to me. He still seems slightly off, and his eyes are still black, but when he moves back to the bed, he seems to be in control enough.
Without a word, he reaches for me, and I move toward him. I’m not sure if it’s smart or not, but the pull I feel to him isn’t something I want to fight.
Unlike him, I enjoyed our kiss.
His arms wrap around me, scooping me up bridal style before he heads toward the door and down the hall.
He could have just as easily teleported us back to my room, but when we go to the other end of the hall and find my door, I get the feeling he made a conscious decision to let me know how close we are.
Bast is still in bed, and Ruin is in the chair near the fire; neither stirs as Lucifer walks into the room, gently placing me back in bed. He won’t meet my gaze as he pulls up the covers, tucking me in: it’s sweet but also makes my heart squeeze in my chest.
Is this him telling me to stay away?
Giving me back to Bast—maybe he doesn’t want me?
“Get some sleep, Moonlight. I’ll find a way to free you from him, just like I promised. Until then, I’ll be here when you need me. All you have to do is call for me, always.”
He presses his lips to my head and is gone before I can respond.
I lay there confused and sad, missing him despite him just being here.
Bast rolls over, his arm tucking around my waist and pulling me back into his warm chest, and I can’t fight sleep as it pulls me under.
My dreams are full of a devil who looks at me as if I’m the moonlight after years left in the dark.