Lucilfer (ChrolloxReader)

Chapter 47

‼️CONTENT WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS CONSENSUAL SEXUAL CONTENT‼️

"Would you like me to make you any food, my (Y/n)?" Chrollo asked faintly into my hair, pressing his lips to my head. "Are you hungry at all?"

I hummed lazily and shrugged—we were entangled together on the sofa in the living room now. His arms were wrapped around my midsection from where he held me between his legs, leaning back against the arm of the couch. My head lolled to the side against his bare chest—he'd changed into a loose, high-waisted pair of white pants, tied up securely with a satiny band, and remained shirtless, taunting me with every expansion of his exposed abdomen against my backside—and I played inattentively with his slender fingers, lacing ours together loosely and studying the way his hand covered mine.

"I already ate earlier," I amended. "Also, this is off topic, but you should wear rings more often."

I felt his chest tremble in a soft laugh, his breath mussing my hair slightly.

"According to the last time I counted, I believe I own thirty rings," he mused thoughtfully. "My favorite one is an ornate, gothic-style silver piece—the inverted cross is engraved on the front. It's an index ring."

My eyes widened, and I pulled my hand away from his—he relaxed his muscles and allowed me to examine his rough palm. I traced my thumb through every crease and line and up the length of each finger, marveling at the smooth porcelain of his skin and smiling contentedly when he carefully hooked his thumb with mine.

"You should let me go through your rings someday." I sighed deeply when his other hand brushed down to my thigh, drawing meaningless shapes with a feather-light touch. "Thirty sounds like a lot."

Slowly, his fingertips grazed upwards while he nodded distractedly, brazen as he ruffled the oversized tee and slid beneath it—my stomach fluttered, and I felt my breathing hitch at the sensation of his gentle fingertips against my bare abdomen. I thought I could feel him smirk into my hair, but I couldn't be sure.

"What made you think about wanting to see me wear rings?"

His touch was intentional, calculating and watchful of every reaction, though still remaining free of haste or urgency, always slow and drawing out the wisps of desire elicited from earlier. My toes curled inside the fluffy socks, my knees bending just slightly in response to his teasing fingertips, and I inhaled sharply, striving to focus intently on playing with his other hand.

"You have really pretty hands," I decided, absently sizing mine up to his. "Rings just look good on you."

"Mmm," he sighed softly—he kissed the back of my head again, and rested his chin on top. "Then I'll consider it for you, my love."

My eyes rolled exaggeratedly, and I leaned further back into his bare chest, stretching my legs out slightly and reaching a more tilted horizontal position, his legs mildly bent around me and his fingers still straying agonizingly over my midsection.

We were quiet for a few more moments, and eventually, after tracing the border of my shorts with slow strokes—keeping my breathing under control was a heavy task—his touch ghosted back down to my thighs, and then up to my neck. I leaned my head up a bit, allowing him easier access to that exposed skin, shivering against his body when he traced a gentle line up from the base of my throat, all the way to my jaw. Through all of this, his heartbeat remained steady, unperturbed, a low, muted rhythm behind me, which was entirely unfair when compared to the racing pace mine was picking up at each soft word, each salacious graze of skin.

"In so doing, you have surrendered to my revenge."

Chrollo's satiny voice reverberated in echoey sequences around in my mind, taunting me with its true meaning and his true intentions. I knew he fully intended to act out every last detail of what he spoke in the text message, but the suspense was, perhaps, what was leaving me so anxious and wanting by the edge—he kept his movements tentative and asking, pleading, and misleadingly so. He had every real intention for drawing out each sensation, each passion, each shudder and each whimper, in revenge against me for finding a way to keep him down, though it didn't last for more than one time.