Chapter Ten Lucifer
Chapter Ten
Lucifer
“What are you doing?” The hint of panic in her voice is almost enough to bring out an ounce of pity in me. Almost.
“You heard my brother,” I answer, as I lead Miss Bellefleur by the hand through the club’s back corridor.
The one that connects to the private suites.
“But we can’t ... I mean—”
I stop abruptly outside one of the empty doors, capturing her wrist in my hand to keep her from fleeing, but the shock in her eyes causes her to still.
“It’s your lie, darling,” I growl. “Time to see it through.”
I half drag, half lead her into one of the open rooms with me. It’s mostly empty, save for one plush-looking chair and some empty hooks for missing kink paraphernalia. I close the door behind us, sealing it shut, before I release her. I cross the space and settle myself into the chair, draping myself across the leather cushion like a goddamn king, which is exactly what I am, after all.
Prince of Darkness. Prince of sin and wicked deeds.
And if she dared think this kind of wickedness was above me, she was foolishly mistaken.
Best get this over with quickly.
“How long are you going to keep me waiting, little dove?” I say impatiently.
She glances between me, the empty room, and the now-closed door, desperately searching for a way out. The door is unlocked, and she can leave anytime, but she’s been caught in a trap of her own making, and we both know it.
It’s face Az with her lies, or me, and the moment she recognizes the limited choices in front of her, she blushes furiously.
“I ... I can’t do this.”
“You can and you will.” My gaze rakes over her, lingering. “Trust me.”
She laughs a little like I’ve said something ridiculous. “Trust you?” She blinks, shaking her head at me. “You chose to come here with me tonight.”
“I offered . You accepted. Try again.”
She looks around, like she’s hoping for any excuse to help her escape the inevitable. “The door is closed.” She shrugs. “He can’t possibly know what we’re doing in here. We can fake it.”
I chuckle at that. “If you think my brother can’t feel when I make an offering to him, try again.”
“An offering?” She blinks.
“Lust. It’s his sin,” I say. “That’s how it works, darling.”
Recognition settles over her, and she blanches, the full extent of what she’s done dawning on her. It’s a situation of her own making, and yet ...
“But I didn’t ... I didn’t mean—”
“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, Miss Bellefleur,” I purr. “You’re about to learn that lesson, explicitly.”
She glances between me and the door, then back again, to where I’m settled into the chair. She’s thinking about running. I can see it on her face, and if she does, I won’t bother to chase her. Even I’m not that kind of monster, and there’s a special place in Hell reserved for those who use their power to coerce sex and intimidate. But for now, if she decides to stay here, she has a choice to make.
“It’s your move, little dove,” I say, my voice dropping low. The same one she accused me of using upon Eve. “Make your play.”
“And if I run?” she asks.
“Don’t insult me,” I snarl. “I won’t fire you, if that’s what you mean. You’re free to leave if you choose, but if you do, it’ll be your name in the headlines come morning and by your own doing.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I scoff. It’s a lie, clearly. No one has ever tried to protect me. Humans fend for themselves. Always. They’re nearly as prideful as me.
“Foolish girl,” I hiss, my voice turning serpentine, tempting. “I don’t need protecting. It’s you who needs protection from me .” I smirk. “But even your God can’t save you from yourself.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
As if she’s innocent in all this.
I chuckle. “I can see it, you know.” I rake my gaze over her. “How you want me.” I’m bluffing, baiting her, but she couldn’t possibly know that. “I can see all the dark thoughts inside that pretty little head of yours.”
I try once more then, a subtle push inside her soul, meant to bare her to me, but still I come up empty.
My nostrils flare, the temptation infuriating me.
Her eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” My grin widens. “Am I wrong?”
She doesn’t answer, but the way her throat writhes as she swallows and those doe eyes fall to my lips says everything. I may not be able to see the thoughts inside her head, but I’m not immune to the desire in her gaze either.
She wants this as much as I do. I’m certain of it.
Slowly, she takes a step toward me.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” I demand. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll fix this little mess you’ve created, easily.”
For a moment, I think she might lie, both to save herself and me, but then her eyes fall to my lap once more, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re not wrong.”
A cruel smirk twists my lips. “Then do your worst, darling.”
Inhaling a sharp breath, she fortifies herself a little, and I almost expect her to back down, to run, but then she approaches me, the sound of her heels echoing through the silence. “This is wrong.”
A dark chuckle tears through me. “I created wrong. Don’t preach to me.”
She stops, standing just before me. “Yes, sir,” she whispers.
We both go still.
Those two words unleash something in me, something far more dark and wicked than she bargained for.
“Say that again, I liked it,” I growl.
She drops to her knees before me. “Yes, sir.”
It’s the best and worst thing she could possibly do, and the second I see her kneeling before me, my cock responds. It strains against the fly of my suit pants, painfully hard, but we don’t need to give into temptation, not truly, for Az to have his due, and I only intend to take this as far as she leads it.
She lowers her head.
“Don’t be shy, little dove.” I lean forward, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at me. “You have my attention now.”