Fate's Consort

by Elysabeth Grace

  Gabriel strolled to the large window and stared out. “Satan did not order the kidnapping of your Consort. The demon and undead were Mephistopheles’ servants, on loan to Belial. Publicly, Belial acknowledges Satan’s dominion. Privately, he has ambitions to replace his Sire, though careful not to let it show. I suspect Belial’s ambition is behind his efforts to make peace with Azazel.”

  Lucifer sat at his desk. “Why the sudden interest in peace?”

  “Since shifters became known to the world, the Expelled have experimented. Initial efforts to breed shifters failed. Abaddon, Azazel, and Belial are using genetic modification techniques. So far, they’ve had no success.”

  “And my brother’s role in all this?” Lucifer asked.

  “Doing what he and Uriel do best,” Gabriel said. “Keep the hornets’ nest stirred up, foster competition, and wait for the results. Satan has taken control of the half dozen biogenetic companies capable of doing the research. The only company not under his thumb is AnthroGen. I suspect it is the most critical to Satan’s plans.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll have to ask your Consort,” Gabriel said, his hand scrubbing his bearded face. “AnthroGen won’t reveal its research or results. It’s public face is simply a computational firm. Out of respect for your Consort, none of us have interfered. When they crack the shifter code, we’ll need more than several squadrons to protect the information.”

  He exhaled his frustration in a quick breath. “If Fate was truly on our side, she would have given us better clues.”

  “And where would the fun be in that, Gabriel?” Raphael quipped.

  Lucifer strode to the window and positioned himself between Gabriel and Remiel. “What about my brother?”

  “He was not pleased to leave San Francisco empty-handed,” Gabriel replied. “A few heads rolled before his tantrum ended.”

  “Angelic?”

  “He is not that besotted with Ms. Willoughby,” Gabriel said with a chuckle. “He has plans, however, to expedite the end of your life.”

  “In what manner?”

  “He arrives in San Francisco tomorrow to continue his pursuit of your Consort. If he can’t win her affections, he’s put a bounty on both your heads, yours preferably separated from your body.”

  Lucifer looked at Gabriel. “Are you certain he did not direct the attack on Analise Saria?”

  “Satan wants her as his Consort, a victory trophy over you.” Gabriel shook his head. “I honestly don’t think your twin has a clue when it comes to Analise Willoughby.”

  “I agree,” Lucifer said.

  Michael.

  Yes, Sire.

  I wish to dine with my Consort this evening. Here.

  Yes, Sire.

  Lucifer stared at Gabriel. “My twin knows I claimed Analise Saria as my Consort but not that we mated. Once he arrives, he will discover the truth. When he does, he will strike. Raphael, increase the number of angels in the city. How many squadrons do we have and where are they located?”

  Raphael outlined a plan to ensure the safety of the humans and supernaturals who called San Francisco home. When Lucifer was satisfied, he dismissed everyone except Gabriel. The pair talked for some time before the archangel walked to the elevator doors.

  “I will see to it, Sire,” Gabriel said as he left.

  Lucifer remained seated, staring at the building on the other side of the window. Analise Saria was not Enclave-born. Her obsession with independence was a problem. To win her trust, he would have to make compromises but never with her safety.

  ***

  The soft whirr of the elevator’s motor as it came to a stop had Lucifer turning away from his living room window. The doors parted and his Consort walked into the foyer. Watching her approach, he understood one of her favorite words: gobsmacked. Accustomed to her favorite mode of dress—jeans and a T-shirt—he didn’t expect the sultry female who stood before him.

  A silk, sleeveless black dress hugged Analise Saria’s body like a second skin, the slit on the right side of the dress revealing a toned thigh he wanted to kiss. Her shoulder-length curls were gathered on the top of her head, except for the slender braid. She rarely exposed the braid, which made him curious as to why she did so now. A pair of silver hoop earrings dangled from her ears. Her entire appearance was elegant simplicity worn like armor. Only her hazel eyes hinted at her nervousness despite the half-smile on her luscious mouth.

  “Am I late?”

  Lucifer heard the catch in her voice, the uncertainty. He strode to where she stood. “No, you are not late. Come.”

  His hand enveloped hers, surprise rippling through him when she didn’t tug it free. He led her into the living area, pleased when she gasped. “What a gorgeous view. I’ll forgive you for buying the building so you can spy on me for this view alone. Also, your designer is a genius.”

  Dragging him to the expansive window facing north, she stared out at the Golden Gate Bridge. It was rare fogless evening and the bridge’s elegance and beauty shone. “Do you have views like this from every room, Seraphim?”

  “The bedrooms do. Would you care to see the apartment?”

  “As long as you have no etchings, sure.”

  “Etchings? What kind of etchings do you mean? There are woodcuts on the walls. What humans often refer to as masterpieces. Durer, Raimondi, Kinoyaga, Catlett, among others.”

  Analise laughed. “Never mind. It’s an old human sexual joke and loses a lot if I have to translate it into angel speak. However, I’m truly impressed with your artwork. Elizabeth Catlett is a favorite of mine. Show me your etchings and tell me how a Seraphim with zilch tolerance of humans became interested in a human artistic print form.”

  Lucifer laughed and guided her through the expansive apartment, pleased she approved what would become her home on Earth. Returning to the living room, he released her hand. “Would you care for a glass of wine, Analise Saria?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She sat on the sofa while he poured two glasses of wine. Handing her one, he took the chair opposite her. She sipped then held the glass in her fingers. “Why do you always use both my names, Lucifer, and why am I here?”

  “Because—”

  “Don’t say the words ‘you’re my Consort.’”

  He laughed. “I enjoy the sound of your name. While I won’t restate a truth, not saying it does not change matters.” He sipped his wine. “I thought you might want to talk, about what happened today.”

  He saw the mischief in her eyes and raised an eyebrow. Analise fluttered her eyelashes before she asked, “Is a bed involved in tonight’s talking?”

  Though the question was asked teasingly, Lucifer heard the tightly held self-control in her voice. He had sensed her tension the moment she exited the elevator. If what she needed tonight was a bed, he would give it to her.

  “Do you wish to involve a bed? We shouldn’t limit ourselves to a single location.”

  Her laughter flooded his senses, once more sending tremors of desire through him. She arched an eyebrow. “It depends. What’s for dinner?”

  “I have no idea,” he confessed. “Whatever the chef prepares will be sufficient.”

  “Oh no, we never settle for sufficient,” she said with a laugh. “There are far too many great restaurants in this city to settle for sufficient. Who is your chef?”

  Lucifer reached for a tablet on the coffee table when it buzzed and viewed the screen. Pressing a series of numbers, he returned the tablet to the table. A minute later, the elevator doors slid open. Remiel stepped out and waved his hand. The door remained open as three men walked out, one pushing a rather large serving cart. The servers worked silently, setting plates on a small square dining table near the window. After they readied the table, the servers bowed to Lucifer and left as quietly as they entered.

  He rose from his chair and extended his hand. “Shall we dine, Consort?”

  Analise sipped her wine, her eyes focused on the angel opposite her, his wings comfortably draped ov
er his chair. Dinner was an unexpected delight. It was rare for her to dine with a male who was genuinely interested in her mind, and Lucifer’s candor surprised and pleased her. Her gaze flitted over his broad chest and shoulders. He favored black silk t-shirts, which set off his ivory-colored skin and striking platinum hair.

  She squirmed on her chair, her body warming to her thoughts. Analise’s fingers tightened about her wineglass. She was in trouble.

  From the beginning, Lucifer’s face, body, and his voice haunted her waking minutes, even as they filled her dreams. For two years, he was the only male she permitted in her bed because he was safe, he was Dream Candy. Then he became real and she tasted the pleasures of physical sex. Taste became need, and need became something greater. Despite her dating history, this white man was the one who got past her barriers.

  I remind you, Analise Saria, I am not a white man but a Seraphim. We do not see ourselves as humans do. Besides, ivory and white are two very distinct colors.

  She watched Lucifer rise from his chair, a rare full smile on his lips. Her gaze flicked to his crotch. The fabric was stretched tight over his sex. She unconsciously licked her bottom lip then caught the fleshy corner between her teeth. She would forever be grateful to Levi Strauss.

  “Will you stay the night with me, Analise Saria?”

  Her eyes went to his and she stared into the dark blue abyss, afraid she would drown in the desire she saw there yet unable to free herself. “Am I in danger?”

  “Only of being thoroughly loved,” he said. “Are you afraid?”

  Her gaze raked his body before settling on his face. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  Lucifer walked to her side of the table and stood behind her. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck before gripping the back of her chair. He gently tugged as she pushed. Once she faced him, he laid his hand against her cheek. She tilted her head against his palm.

  “Yes and no,” he said, his fingers trailing along her skin. “You have nothing to fear from me. As my Consort, you have power over me you do not fully realize. Thus, there is no need to fear me. Yourself? Only you can answer the question, Analise Saria. Do you fear yourself?”

  Her fingers stroked the denim stretched tight over his penis. “I’ve not seen your bedroom.”

  She stared into a pair of eyes suddenly confused. She didn’t dare admit she feared herself when she was with him, terrified of an inexorable slide into loving him. Intuitively, she understood the moment she gave Lucifer her heart—it would be all or nothing. If anything happened to him, no human or supernatural was safe.

  “Come, Consort. I will show you our bedroom.”

  Her clit quivered at the erotic timbre of his voice. If he said the word one more time, she’d have an orgasm on the spot.

  “Shall I test your hypothesis?”

  “No,” she panted, realizing she hadn’t shielded her thought. “Just show me the damn bedroom.”

  Lucifer laughed. “Patience, Analise Saria.”

  He led her to his bedroom. Light bathed the room as they entered and she didn’t hide her surprise. The rest of Lucifer’s apartment was decorated in black and white, no in-between, no shades of gray, just black and white. His bedroom was a world apart.

  A reading nook occupied one corner, complete with bookshelves and an oversized chair. The bed was massive, with enough room for four people.

  There will never be more than two.

  She ignored the intrusion. On either side of the bed was a nightstand. Beyond the bed, she saw French doors. She skirted past the bed and walked through the doors and into the bathroom. After a minute, she strolled out. “Exactly how wealthy are you?”

  “If I said my wealth surpasses my twin’s, would it trouble you?”

  She shook her head. “At least I know you’re not into me for the money.”

  He stared at her, his gaze open and promising. “No, I am into you for you.”

  “Good response, Seraphim.”

  Analise perused the rest of the bedroom. Its patterns and colors were similar to ones in the Chaco Canyon chamber—the tanzanite blue of Lucifer’s eyes, the platinum threads of his hair, and the black smoothness of Ahaggar Mountain granite. The bed, built to hold an angel and his wings, faced a window whose view was Presidio Park and the Golden Gate Bridge.

  “Magnificent. This is a bedroom to die for,” she murmured.

  Lucifer ran his hand down her spine. “No, this is a room to live for. Will you share it with me, Analise Saria Willoughby? Will you share this room with your life mate?”

  She closed her eyes. She hadn’t thought of herself as Analise Saria Willoughby since childhood. Now she couldn’t recall being Analise Drake. Why was Lucifer the one to unravel her walls of self-preservation? With a word or a caress, he had coaxed the terrified little girl from her safe room. When the memories she held burst from the safe room, he’d been her anchor. Overbearing and arrogant, Lucifer was exactly what she didn’t need yet, with him, she found it easier to breathe, to live, and to consider loving someone. Him.

  “Lucifer.”

  His mouth descended and his lips parted, the tip of his tongue a gentle pressure on her lips. “It is too late to retreat, Analise Saria.”

  Chapter 17

  Analise squealed as she landed bottom down on the massive bed in Lucifer’s bedroom. The exotic feel of silk brushed her naked butt. Between the light touch of Lucifer’s mouth on hers and thoughts of falling in love with him, she had lost track of time and her clothes. Gazing into his eyes, she breathed one word. “How?”

  He skimmed his hand across her naked stomach and her body lurched. “Does it matter?”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  Lucifer’s fingers stroked her. “Making love to you is a drug. The more I touch, the more I want to taste. The more I taste, the more I want to possess. Will you allow me to possess you, Consort? Will you give everything to me?”

  She knew he wanted a reply that went beyond the passion rising between them. Was she ready? Could she be certain, in choosing him, she wasn’t setting herself up for heartbreak? He stared into her eyes, naked desire making the blue even brighter. Analise knew she would give him tonight and deal with the fallout later. “Yes.”

  “Then open to me, Consort. Accept me and what I am.”

  Her hands gently gripped his head. She tugged until she could feel the heat of his breath on her mouth. Her tongue licked his lips before entering his mouth. She tasted him, savored the sweetness of his flesh. Pulling away, she grinned. “Do you plan to talk all night or become a man of action, Dream Candy?”

  Analise heard his throaty laughter in her mind. Why can’t I do both? Since I’m not a man.

  Lucifer took control of their kiss, his mouth slanting across hers, nipping her bottom lip before his tongue thrust inside. She waited then warred with him for possession, their tongues tangling the way their bodies did in the sheets. His expertise prevailed.

  Lucifer made love to her mouth. Each lick, every thrust, and the slow drag of his tongue on hers delivered an erotic jolt. Analise’s body vibrated as currents of heat swirled between her thighs, her vaginal muscles tightening in response.

  His mouth left hers to trace a path to her breast. “I sense you want to climax, Analise Saria. I cannot allow it just yet. I have not tasted my fill.”

  His words sent a rush of heat to her sex as his lips closed around her nipple, his teeth a jarring invocation to passion. Her fingers clenched the silk sheets as Lucifer gently bit her flesh. She inhaled before releasing a desperate breath when his teeth raked the other nipple. Pain and pleasure became twin sensations until she was writhing beneath his touch. His hand snaked down her belly, stroking as his fingers moved unerringly to the thatch of curls damp with her arousal. He dragged a long finger across her curls and she gulped in air.

  Lucifer’s blunt fingertip flicked her clitoris before his finger entered her vagina and withdrew. He traced a nipple with her wetness. His tongue quickly licking the slickness. He performed
the same delicious magic on the other nipple. By the time he lifted his head, Analise was a combustible wreck.

  “Lucifer,” she moaned. “I need you inside me.”

  “I want to taste you first, Analise Saria. Do I have your consent?”

  For a second actual speech escaped her, his thumb working her clit into hardness. Finally, she found enough air to whisper, “Yes.”

  He kissed her breast. “I don’t think I will. At least not yet. I find touching you to be pleasurable. Your skin is as soft as my secondary feathers, like a delicate caress against my lips. I believe I shall enjoy this moment a bit longer.”

  “So unfair of you,” she gasped.

  “Why?”

  “I. . .” she stammered, trying focus her mind. Her words came out in quick rush. “I want you inside me.”

  “Soon, Consort, but I desire a second dessert at the moment.”

  Lucifer slid a finger inside her pussy and slowly stroked. Her body gripped his finger, juices soaking his flesh. He slowed his ministrations until she was pliant, his hand stroking the inside of her thighs before sliding beneath her ass to bring her sex to his mouth where his tongue rekindled her desire. Analise wasn’t sure she’d survive the intense feel of a second orgasm.

  I think you will.

  Pleasure jolted through her when his tongue pushed between her labia. Pressure built rapidly in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed Lucifer’s head and held it in place, grinding her sex against his mouth to ease the fire. He lifted his head to peer at her. “I cannot permit you to orgasm yet, Consort.”

  Analise’s cry of frustration floated into the air. Her body was like a violin beneath his touch, strings pulled so taut one movement of the bow would snap the fragile threads. “Dream Candy, I need to let go.”

  “When you claim me, Analise Saria,” he whispered.

  She shook her head, struggling to deny him. It was a losing battle. She gave in to the seductive power of his voice, the erotic insistence of his tongue, and her need. Her vaginal muscles contracted and, for a brief second, the pain was unbearable. Unable to silence her voice, she screamed his name as her orgasm sent her hurtling across time and space.