by Sweet, Izzy
Lucifer told Adam that he and I have an agreement, and we most certainly do not. He gave me no choice in any of this, and the fact that he’s going to pretend that he did just makes me seething mad.
I want to tell him off but I have to restrain myself in front of the children.
Dinner is tedious, and the only bright spot is Evelyn’s gabbing. I keep expecting her to ask about her daddy but she hasn’t. I suppose it’s a testament to how truly awful of a father Marshall is.
The food is bland and tasteless. It’s not the cook’s fault, this meal of lamb and risotto is worthy of any five-star restaurant, it’s just that I have no desire to eat. I’m too stressed out to taste anything.
Throughout the meal, I focus my attention on Adam and Evelyn, trying to ignore Lucifer like he’s some dark shadow at the head of the table of little importance.
But each time I turn my face to speak with Evelyn, I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and my attention is instantly drawn to him.
The way he stares at me openly with eyes full of hunger has a way of making me feel completely naked.
I hate it, I swear, but my body betrays me. Throughout dinner I’m shifting in my seat and crossing my legs, willing the ache building up inside of me to go away.
I’m attracted to him, there’s no point in denying it. How could I not be? He’s ethereally beautiful yet strong and masculine.
And the fact that he desires me? It does things to me. Things that make me feel wicked and dirty. Things that make me feel like an awful mother and a wanton woman.
It doesn’t seem to matter how much I psychologically can’t stand him; I’m physically drawn to him. Somehow, I’m weak to him, and it terrifies me.
He made me change for dinner. He downright sneered at my sweatpants. I was half tempted to defy him and see what he would do about it.
But then I thought it would be more satisfying to best him at his own game.
At this moment, I’m seriously regretting that decision.
The children are finished with dinner so we all rise so I can go through the motions of getting them ready for bed.
I feel Lucifer’s eyes all over my body as I walk over to Evelyn to take her by the hand. He comes up behind me and all the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end
I stiffen as his hand goes to the small of my back.
Before dinner, I slipped on the sexiest thing I own. A black little strappy dress I bought last year for my six-year anniversary. I never got to wear the dress because Marshall never came home so it just hung in my closet, sad and unused. Paired with a set of sexy black heels and a little bit of makeup, I look like a completely different woman.
Lucifer leans close, brushing my hair away from my ear. His breath is warm and I have to fight the shiver that’s shooting down my neck. “I’ll be in our room. We can have our talk once you’re done putting the children to bed.”
He leans back and looks into my eyes, checking for my compliance. Right now, right here, the full strength of his gaze is too intense.
I look away, focusing on Adam. He’s watching us with curiosity, a little wrinkle between his brows and a frown on his lips.
“The children need to be bathed. It may be some time…”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucifer nod. “I’ll be waiting. Take as long as you need.”
He presses a kiss against the top of my head and steps back.
I really wish he wouldn’t do that! I really wish he wouldn’t treat me with such familiarity, such affection, especially in front of the children.
“Good night, Evelyn. Sweet dreams,” Lucifer says.
“Good night,” Evelyn chirps cheerfully. “Sweet dreams!”
“Good night, Adam,” Lucifer nods at Adam.
Adam stares at him for a long moment before nodding back. “Good night.”
Leading Evelyn by the hand, we walk past Lucifer and begin to ascend the stairs. Suddenly Evelyn twists in my hand and calls out, “Oh, I forgot! Don’t’ let the bedbugs bite!”
Lucifer laughs.
* * *
Adam is of an age now where he prefers to take showers. He’s cleaned, brushed, dressed and ready for bed within minutes. Evelyn, on the other hand, still needs a bath. She loves bubbles and to play, so it’s almost an hour before I have her dry, brushed and tucked into her new bed.
Sometimes Evelyn needs me to stay with her while she falls asleep, and tonight I’m pretty much counting on it. After all, we’re in a new house, in a new bed. She’s bound to be a little frightened.
Unfortunately, she closes her little eyes as soon as I have her tucked underneath her blanket and she’s asleep within seconds. I suppose all the excitement of the day wore her out.
Too bad I’m not just as tired. I feel wide awake and wired, like I’ve been caffeinated.
Still, I lay beside her in the bed for a long time. Reluctant to make my way to Lucifer. Reluctant to be alone with him again.
I stare at the ceiling, reliving my day. It’s all so weird it hardly feels real. Did all of that really happen, or am I going crazy?
Maybe this is all some kind of nightmare and I’ll wake up in bed beside Marshall.
But then, wouldn’t that be a different kind of nightmare?
Finally, after I’ve been in bed with Evelyn for at least an hour I can lie still no more, I press one last kiss to her forehead, slide out of her bed and pick my heels off the floor.
Barefoot, I pad quietly down the carpeted hallway, hoping Lucifer is not waiting for me behind that bedroom door. If I’m lucky, I’ve taken so long he grew bored or tired.
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself and turn the handle. The door swings open easily and I step inside.
Lucifer is sitting on the edge of the massive canopy bed that dominates the room, bent over my phone.
His head pops up as I step inside. “Close the door.”
God, I really don’t want to be alone with him, and it’s not because I don’t trust him… it’s because I don’t trust myself.
Lucifer lowers my phone to his lap and repeats, “Close the door, Lilith.”
I push back at the door in frustration and it slams shut a little louder than I intended. I wince at the sound and Lucifer’s icy eyes narrow.
He spreads his legs a little. “Come here.”
My body freezes and I just can’t bring myself to take that first step forward even though there’s something in his voice that tugs at me, that makes me want to obey him. “I thought we were going to talk?”
“Come here, Lilith,” Lucifer demands again.
There’s that tug again. A string inside me tightens.
I shake my head. I can’t…
“Lilith,” he growls impatiently.
My fingers relax and I drop my heels to the floor.
“I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”
I shake my head again.
“Don’t make me come get you.”
Fuck. If I run will he chase me down?
He rises from the bed in one smooth movement and my fight or flight instincts kick in. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m spinning around, pulling open the door.
He’s on top of me before I get across the threshold. There just wasn’t enough space between us to give me a good head start.
Grabbing me by the hips, he yanks me back and slams the door. There’s a moment where my feet leave the floor then I’m roughly pressed up against the door, my cheek pushed against the wood.
He growls into my ear as he grinds his hips into my ass.
Fuck, I think what I did turned him on. I can feel something hard rubbing against me.
“That wasn’t a very smart decision,” he sighs and I feel his teeth nipping at the back of my neck.
“Please,” I whine and stiffen. That nip at my neck sends a jolt of sensation straight to my core.
My mind and body are at war.
I know he’s an awful despicable person, despite how kind he�
��s been with the children, and I’m afraid this is all some sick twisted game to him.
We’re only safe here until he gets bored with us or something better comes along.
“Please, what?” he asks, his breath hot against the wet spot he left on my neck.
“Please, let us go.”
He grinds his hips hard into my ass and says coldly, “No.”
“Why?” I cry out in despair.
His hips let up and he pulls away, and I feel this wild hope that he’s going to let me go. But then he grabs me by the hips and spins me around to face him.
He pushes me back and the palms of my hands slap against the door.
He leans forward, caging me in with his arms. Head bending down, his forehead nearly touches my forehead as he stares into my eyes and says, “Because I don’t want to.”
Staring into his eyes is like staring into the abyss. There’s a power in them that’s sucking out my fight. My will.
It’s becoming harder and harder to remain strong.
“You can’t do this,” I say weakly.
His lips curve into a smug smile. “I can.”
That smugness immediately makes me bristle with pent-up anger. I need the anger, desperately. I need the fire of rage to protect my heart. “What gives you the right?”
His eyes drop to my lips. “I have the right of might. I can do anything I want.”
As if to prove his point, his lips press against my lips and he kisses me hard and deep as if he’s trying to devour my mouth.
His lips slant over my lips.
His tongue presses, insistent, seeking entrance.
He’s so soft, his cheeks, his lips.
His tongue.
My lips give way to him and I feel myself opening up, eager to taste him.
Eager to be devoured.
He kisses me until all the resistance goes out of me, until I’m slumping against the door. My knees weaken. He kisses me until I’m breathless and clinging to his shirt.
Pulling slowly away from me, his eyes are hooded. His lips swollen and glistening.
Reaching down, he tenderly brushes the hair from my eyes and it’s so tender it hurts.
He treats me with more care, with more affection than Marshall ever did, but he doesn’t seem to care about what I want. I get no choices. I have no power.
Yet my body doesn’t care.
A part of me just wants to give in. To stop fighting. To melt in his arms.
Why keep fighting? Why not just enjoy the moment? It would be so easy to live in the now and forget about tomorrow…
But I’ve done that before. I’ve ignored my better instincts. I’ve let little things slide until they became big things and I no longer had any control.
And where did it get me? It got me here.
“It’s not right. Don’t you see that? You can’t just own a person. I’m not a pet, my children and I aren’t animals. You can’t just claim us or act as if you own us. It’s wrong.”
Lucifer blinks at me in surprise and then frowns. His eyes harden and his voice is cold. “It is wrong… to you,” he agrees, surprising me. “And I don’t give a fuck. Right or wrong. Black or white. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. In my world, I see something I want, I take it. I took you.”
My eyes prickling with tears, I say, “That doesn’t mean you can get away with this… even if you don’t see what’s wrong with it, doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for you.”
Lucifer nods his head slowly and then his finger sweeps across my cheek, gathering up a tear. He sticks the finger in his mouth and then grins down at me. “It’s the way of the world, Lilith. No one is going to stop me because there is no one stronger to stop me. The strong take and the weak, well, they get taken. No one is going to come along to rescue you.”
He doesn’t have to say it but I feel it hanging in the air.
Your own husband doesn’t even want you.
My tears flood my eyes, blurring my vision and I’m crying in earnest now. All of this is just too fucked up, and I’ve completely lost all hope of him changing his mind and deciding to let us go. He truly believes he’s untouchable.
Lucifer sighs and pulls me close, cradling me in his arms. I’m weak and I need his touch, his heat. His comfort. I bury my face into his chest and cry into his shirt. One hand rubs soothingly down my back while the other tenderly pets my hair.
I can’t even remember the last time someone held me like this when I was upset. Maybe my mother did when I was little?
He lets me cry on him, he lets me soak him with my tears. Once my sobs quiet and I feel like I’ve gotten most of it out, he murmurs. “Don’t worry, my dear. I don’t want to force you, I just want to possess you.”
I shudder in his arms and he sweeps me up. Spinning me around, he carries me to the bed like some gallant prince and gently lowers me down.
He’s being so tender, so careful, he’s making it really hard for me to continue hating him.
A pleasant numbness settles over me as he straightens.
From down here he seems larger than life, almost unreal. The way his eyes glide over my body, drinking me in, I feel desired.
Wanted.
Oh, god, this so wrong. So wrong…
His long, strong fingers go to the collar of his shirt and begin to slowly unbutton it. As his fingers work their way down, my body flushes with anticipation. I’m practically squirming and panting with it.
Shirt open, he yanks it out of his pants and slides it off, revealing hard, bulging biceps and a rippling chest. I knew he was strong, I could feel it when I was trapped in his arms, but I didn’t realize he was packing so much muscle beneath his suit.
My eyes roam over him and now it’s my time to drink him in. To burn his visage into my brain.
He’s so damn beautiful, so damn perfect, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen sculptures of him in a museum.
Fingers latching onto his belt buckle, he flips it open and then yanks the belt hard out of his pants.
As his pants slide down to the floor, revealing his tight black briefs and the obvious erection trapped within them, I come back to my senses.
Scrambling backward, I try to escape him but he strikes fast. Grabbing me by the ankles, he yanks me back down the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.
Before I can even answer his weight is coming down on top of me, his mouth is crushing against my lips.
He kisses me fiercely, distracting me as his knees nudge my knees apart.
With each pull from his mouth, with each thrust of his tongue, I feel my will to fight weaken and wilt.
I want this, I realize. Even after last night, I’m starved for more.
Aching for him.
Fitting himself between my thighs, he rocks his hips forward, grinding and rubbing himself against my panties.
My core is filled with a hot, needy pressure.
A moan rises up in my throat as I lift my hips up, asking for more.
He groans in return, his kiss becoming deeper, the grinding of his hips harder. My hands find his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away, I’m gripping him, tugging on him.
Trying to bring him closer.
Suddenly he breaks away and the rocking of his hips stops. With a keening cry, my fingers tighten around him and I try to pull him back down.
He grins down at me with satisfaction and purrs, “So needy already, kitten?”
Instantly, I feel my ardor begin to cool.
He tips his head back and laughs, amused by the annoyed look on my face and then his gaze drifts down.
“As much as I want you,” he says and rocks his hips forward as if to leave no doubt about it. “I want to see you. Every inch of you. It was impossible to see last night in the dark.”
Panting, I turn my face to the side. The thought of him seeing me naked for some reason fills me with a new fear. What if he doesn’t find me attractive? What if he thinks my body is ugly?
Fu
ck, why do I even care?
“Remove your dress,” he commands and leans back, giving me space.
When I don’t immediately jump to do his bidding he sarcastically asks, “Need help?”
I shake my head in refusal and he seems to lose all patience with me.
With a snarl he reaches down, grabs the front of my dress and pulls, snapping the threads. Yanking and ripping angrily, he splits my dress straight down the front.
My breasts spill out and all of my torso is exposed. His eyes gleam as they glaze over me, and I’m frozen. Paralyzed. I don’t know what to do.
I feel painfully vulnerable at this moment.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling merciful tonight,” he rasps, eyes locking on the rising and falling swells of my breasts. “Tomorrow I expect you to do what you’re told.”
Do what I’m told?
“Fuck you.” I spit out and try to push at his shoulders, to shove him away.
He laughs, grabbing me by the wrists. Pinning my arms to my sides.
“You are so fucking beautiful when you’re angry,” he smirks and that only pisses me off more.
I growl and buck beneath him, trying to escape his grip.
His head dips down, his hot mouth covers the peak of my breast, and I still at once.
Fuck, why does it have to feel so good?
With a groan, he pulls back a hard suckle and both of my nipples pucker and tighten into two hard little buds.
His mouth works me over, sucking, nipping, and licking my breast. Each lash of his tongue, each suck of his mouth is breaking down the last of my resistance.
There’s only so much I can take, so much I can stand. I can’t even remember the last time a man played with my breasts let alone sucked and worshipped them like he is.
He groans and I watch, entranced as he pulls back, allowing my dusky, glistening nipple to slide out of his mouth.
His eyes are closed and he has this look on his face like he’s really enjoying what he’s doing. Like I’m the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. He doesn’t even open his eyes to look where he’s going, he just moves over to the other breast and begins to suck and lick on it like he can’t get enough of it.
The empty ache inside of me keeps growing and growing until I feel like my entire body is throbbing with the force of it.
