The Devil's Mate

Chapter 10

Smut present in this chapter.

Shortly after my little screaming session, the Devil makes some adjustments to the room to make it more comfortable for us. For one, the pool has turned into a water bed allowing the steam from the water to dissipate into the air vents increasing the visibility in the room. Transforming the towels on the shelf into pillows and a large blanket, the Devil sighs heavily as he sits back down next to me looking at his handiwork.

I've been here for two days and so many things have already happened. This situation could very well be ranked the worst of everything that has happened so far. My mind is a whirl as I think of ways to bring myself to...do that with him and every time I manage to imagine a scenario, I back out of it telling myself that I can't do it. That it's too soon.

"I was looking forward to the lasagna for lunch," He tells me, reminding me of my promise to cook our favourite food. "Seems like that won't be happening for a while."

"I agree," I tell him, feeling slightly guilty that I forgot to make it. "I'll make it once we get out of this as a celebratory treat."

"That'll be nice," He murmurs thoughtfully.

Our conversation dies just like that as our minds go back to what we have to do to get out of here. Knowing that I have to get to know him more to feel more comfortable to engage in such activity with him, I dig up whatever courage I have from the bottom of my stomach to start a conversation.

"What's your favourite colour?" I ask.

"The colour of the sky just as the sun rises, not the sunrise itself but the blue hue of the rest of the sky that is lit up," He chuckles, lost in the thought of his favourite colour. "There is a name for the colour but I can't seem to recall what it is."

"What do you like the most about human food?" I giggle, enjoying the sight of him smiling.

"That's an easy one," He smiles, looking to me. "The simplicity of it. How something that is essentially bread, cheese and tomatoes when made differently turns out to be something so delicious."

"How old are you in angel years?" I inquire, putting the knowledge I gained this morning in his library to use.

His eyebrow rises slightly at my question not expecting me to know there's a difference between the ages of the angels and humans. According to the text that I read, every million millennia in human years is an angel's one.

"I'm twenty-seven," He answers.

"That's a long time of being alone," I mumble, knowing that Hell was created when he was seventeen. 

"Indeed," He agrees, his smile fading slightly. "I spent the last ten years of my life looking for you. I admit, there were many mistakes and me being young and desperate I did horrible things to them when they didn't turn out to be who I thought they were."

Suddenly feeling sad, I can't begin to fathom what it must have been like for him. Helemsy Mansion is huge. Even with the fae and dolls around when he isn't with me, despite the countless number of once-humans in the North wing, I felt the expanse space of the mansion to be abandoned and empty.

"In the report that I had on you, it said you wrote on your kindergarten dream board that you wished to travel the world," He states, taking my hand in his. "Why?"

Pressing my lips against each other as I try to hide my smile, I explain, "I never go to see much of it. My family always moved homes every six months so I go to see most of Europe but we never left the country. I've always wanted to go to Singapore and no matter how long my list of places I wanted to visit got, Singapore is always first. The internet describes it to be a place of eternal summer and a place of lush greenery. I love the idea of that."

At my response, he begins to laugh. I don't mean the mocking kind of laughter but rather deep bellied rumbles that make your sides hurt kind of laughter. At first, I'm shocked that he can laugh seeing as the closest thing I've seen him do is smile. Then, I feel slightly offended that he's laughing at me. However, that doesn't last long as before I know it I'm laughing along with him not because I know what he finds so funny but because he's beginning to tear up from laughing so hard.

"S-Stop laughing at me," I huff breathlessly, punching him in the shoulder.

"Your just too cute, Victoria," he chuckles, sobering up. "The way your eyes shine as you speak about your dream, it's beautiful."

"You think I'm beautiful?" I snort, not believing him. "Cute, I understand but compared to the women I've seen through the internet, you have no idea who you're calling 'beautiful'."

Shaking his head at me, his eyes darken considerably as he tilts my face up to look at his. His forefinger pressed against my chin, the force applied is enough to keep me from looking down but gentle enough that it isn't like he's going to push my head back. My mouth dries when he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at my face like he's trying to memorise it or something.

"Those women you've seen are what beauty is to you," he finally says, closing the distance between us. "But you are what beauty is to me."

As our lips crushed together, I felt like I was walking on air. I was completely unprepared as he pressed his tongue to the seam of my lips and, at my grant of access, delved inside my mouth. His hands drift from wherever they were previously to grasp at my hip both allowing him to pull me closer to him and also making his shirt ride up my thighs exposing more of me.

Placing my hand on his chest with the intent to push him away, I end up just leaving my hand there enjoying the feel of his muscles moving under my fingertips with every breath he takes. Breaking the kiss for us both to take in some air, he begins nuzzling my neck with delicate kisses. So faint, that they were like whispers. 

In the back of my mind, the small part of me that isn't caught up in this haze of desire urges me to push him away, but I don't. My body begins to tremble uncontrollably as he begins to press firm open-mouthed kisses on the slope of my neck, making me moan aloud.

His responding growl sends vibrations southward of my body causing a shiver to run down my spine from how delightful the feeling is. Shifting me off of the sofa and into his lap where my bare core meets his pants covered ones, my gasp of pleasure that escapes my lips from the feel of the tent in his pants pressing against my heat is unintentional.

"At the rate, we're going we could be out of here by tonight," He murmurs against my neck. "Will you regret this once it's done, I wonder."

"Dominic..." I breathe, knowing what he's referring to despite my mind being clouded with the need for release or something at the very least to expel the tenseness in my body. "I won't. You'll be my first, just so you know."

Growling, he grinds against me making my head tilt back from the pleasure that shoots up my body from that single point in contact with him. Meeting his grinds with me pressing down on him, I make a few moans come from him for a change as we both climb and build up to our orgasms.

The ball of tension inside me explodes with the next grind of his hips into mine, my scream of pleasure echoes off of the walls of the room we were confined in as he reaches his completion. How we went from getting to know each other to this? I have no idea. Searching in the depths of my mind to see if I regret doing something like that on the second day of meeting him, I find none of the sorts. Instead, I feel contented as if something in me has been satisfied. 

"Did you...read the papers...your Father got...on The Covenant's...informants?" I pant, trying to continue our conversation from earlier, not thinking about what I'm asking him. "I read your Father's letter this morning."

Not answering me, he kisses me firmly on my lips as he carries me off of the sofa and out of the room. He doesn't say anything in response to my question until he has us in our bedroom where he sits down on my side of the bed, my knees pressed into the mattress as I steady myself over him.

"I have," He admits softly, pushing my hair behind my ear. "Will you be willing to hear the answer in the morning, my angel? I'd rather we discuss this at a time when haven't just done such an intimate act."

I think about it for a moment wondering what was on the papers that he doesn't want me to know right now and I am about to press him to tell me when I get distracted by his thumb rubbing circles on my hip. 

That feels nice...