The sun poured through the front windows. I'd taken a nap, resting my eyes and my soul. After the last forty-eight hours, I needed it.
Sitting on the couch that'd been my bed, I pressed my head into my hands and replayed everything that had happened. And none of it made sense. To me, at least. Yes, I broke a rule and disregarded an assignment—again—but the amount of violence was uncalled for. Did they want Priscilla's soul that bad the fact that I wouldn't kill her was disrupting the realm? And if I hadn't shown my face at the temple, wouldn't they have tried to kill her anyway? Why did it feel that my return to the Seven was the perfect piece to an onslaught Pride wanted to happen anyway? Throw whatever it was that Gabriel and Gluttony wanted to happen a hundred years ago into the mix. This was a nightmare brewing.
Sliding my hands away from my face, I stared at my fingertips. When Gluttony was better, he'd tell me everything; the other night, he promised to answer my questions if I ran. Well, I did. I was alive, waiting for him to recover. I needed him to live, too, not just for answers but because I'd never forgive myself if he died for my actions.
"Octavio?" Quiet footsteps sounded on the stairs. Looking back, I saw Priscilla come down. She'd changed her clothes and looked fresh and bathed. I hadn't heard the water run, but I also wasn't paying attention to the house. I should've been; Gabriel left an hour ago to "handle things," and wouldn't return for a while. Whatever that meant, I hadn't asked. I figured he wouldn't have told me anyway.
"You're up." Stopping at the final step, Priscilla smiled. She crossed her hands over her clean white t-shirt, slightly damp around the shoulders because of her hair. Her cheeks were flushed, and I knew she smelled lovely from where I sat. The scent traveled in the air over to my direction.
"Yeah." I chuckled, then rubbed my neck. "I needed that. A little rest."
"Do you want the bathroom?" She pointed up the stairs. "I finished. Don't need if you need to wash up or—"
"I cleaned off the blood last night." I pushed myself up from the couch, then pointed at the new shirt I'd worn. A black tee without Priscilla's logo; also, clean and neat, without the old stains from my wounds. "So, I'm good. Thank you, though."
"Teeth?" She cocked a brow. "Breath? If you were sleeping, then—"
I chuckled, crossing the living room space to stand in front of her. The flower scent hit me again, and my heart raced with her right in front of me. "Don't need to." I looked into her eyes. "I look like a man, but those inconveniences don't affect demons. Bad breaths, orders, etcetera."
Priscilla's brow lifted as she moved around me, heading to the couch. "Must be nice," she muttered, then turned. "Wait. That demon last night smelled pretty bad. It wasn't because he just... didn't bathe?"
Sloth? She had to mean Sloth. "If you smell a demon, that's the aura, not their body," I smirked, tongue between my teeth to keep from laughing. "That can either be a blessing or a curse."
"Mm." Priscilla sucked her teeth as she leaned against the couch. "I guess," she said. "Because you don't smell or anything."
"I'll take that as a compliment?" I said.
And when I said it, she smiled, pushing off the couch to come close to me. Her eyes passed over my body before she sighed and shook her head. A nervous chuckle followed as she lifted her gaze again. "The past two days have been wild," she said.
Wild wasn't the word I'd use, but I also couldn't think of him. So, I nodded and agreed. "It has been." Then I bit my lip and looked into her eyes, gently stroking her cheeks. "Are you okay? You were pretty upset yesterday."
She shrugged, leaning into my touch. "I was. Am. I should be used to this," she sighed. "My life wasn't mine to begin with. All these plans and facts and," she wiggled her fingers dramatically, "demon attacks only prove it. I'm just a soul everyone wants to use to their advantage—dead or alive. It sucks."
It did suck. And one hundred years ago, Priscilla felt the same; not to the extreme of now, but to be used, unappreciated, neglected, and ignored. She hadn't felt worth it.
Until I came into her life. A demon who sought to kill for his own gain... instead wanted to love and value her for eternity.
I slid my thumb over her cheek again. "I never wanted you to feel like this," I said. "And maybe that's why I ran when I first saw you. I tried to avoid you, but I..." I bit my bottom lip. "I kept going back. And I'm sorry."
Priscilla pressed herself against my chest. Without the bandages and my cuts healed, it was nice to feel her this close. "Don't apologize," she said. "I waited forever to meet you and wanted you ever since. After our first kiss at my apartment, I can't stop thinking of the possibilities. And that's selfish or foolish, but I know our love was strong because I feel it now."
What she said warmed me. Every part of me. I cupped her face with my hands and kissed her so tenderly, she trembled. Her eyes closed, her knees pressed together. As my skin burned, yearning for more, I kissed her again.
"What if we just ripped off the band-aid?" she whispered. "Just dove back into our relationship as if it never ended."
I blinked, licking my bottom lip. "What?"
"It'll be good for both of us," she whispered, pressing herself even more against me. "A stress reliever, you know."
Stress reliever? The look on her face, the dark red color spreading over her cheeks, I knew what she was hinting at. Such a mortal reaction, but could I deny that?
"You want to sleep with me?" I whispered. My hand slid up her neck, gently squeezing until she gasped. The golden light in her auburn eyes faded, darkening with the sins she was supposed to be immune to.
"Is this how it was?" she whimpered, holding my gaze. "Did you fuck me like this?"
I breathed on her lips. The bulge in my jeans tightened, ached, and pulsed for freedom. For her. Despite what she said, I didn't give in to her swollen lips. Kissing her was delicious, but this? I felt selfish. "Everything was different then," I whispered, brushing my thumb against her bottom lip. "It wasn't like this. We wanted each other equally."
"Oh?" Even with her pressed against me, breasts against my chest, hips close to mine, Priscilla still found a way to snake her hand between the smallest gap between us. Her fingers played with the button of my jeans before trailing down to my dick. It twitched, and she giggled. Huskily. "I think you want me as much as I want you," she cooed.
She was testing me. And as much as I liked it, I needed her to know the fire she was playing with. I wasn't just a dream or some dormant memory from her past. I was physically here, present, and her reality; just like she wanted. Sins hunted us because I broke every rule. I was a danger. I was the endgame. Sleeping with me would taint her soul.
Gabriel will kill me before the Sins do.
"This is different," I bit her top lip, "because I've loved you for over a hundred years, so fuck yes, you're what I want right now. But you?" I trailed my tongue over the light pink bite. "Do you know what you're getting into? What do you want?"
"I want you. I said that already," she breathed. "This is more than my dreams, I—"
Sliding my hand higher up her neck, I pressed my thumb right beneath her chin. She hissed, her eyes shimmering as she looked into mine. I brought my lips to hers but didn't kiss her. "That's what you need to realize, Priscilla. I'm not a dream. I'm real." I nipped at her top lip. "And fucking me means there's no going back. I can't save you. Gabriel can't save you. We'll be bound together in Hell and—"
"Aren't we already?" she whispered, voice breaking into a whimper. "We did this before, and you didn't complain then. Why now?" She tried to kiss me, but I moved back. She pinched her brow together. "Why can't we do this now?"
"Because I don't know if this is what you want?" I knew I should let her go, but I couldn't. There was something about her heart beating right next to mine. Not to mention my need to rip her clothes off.
"It is." She pressed her leg between mine and came closer. "I spent nights, months, years thinking of you. I knew the stories, but I wanted to believe there was a man—a demon—ready to devote himself to me."
"Priscilla." I pressed my forehead against hers.
"You're here," she whispered, "and I know you want me. I know you love me. So, stop lying and just take me because I'm yours."
I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from looking into hers. This was how I fell before, how I made her mine. I couldn't do it, even though I wanted to: I wanted to be the better person.
But her hand slid over my dick again, anxious breaths beating against my lips. She wanted me, and there wasn't a way to hide it. I pressed my thumb against her neck to lift her chin. She looked up at me with her shimmering eyes; waves of gold swirled around dark blue and green.
"Is this what you want?" I pulled her closer and bit her top lip. "You want to lay down with me and be mine forever?"
Her stomach tightened as she sucked in a deep breath. "It's been one hundred years," she breathed, "why stop now?" Her hand slid between our chests until it reached my neck. Grabbing mine as I did her, she squeezed and pressed her thumb against my Adam's apple. "Take what's already yours."
Become one again, Octavio.
I gasped for a second before gritting my teeth. My free hand looped under her ass, grabbing and squeezing until I lifted her against me. She giggled immediately, letting me go to wrap her arms around my neck. I hoisted her up enough that she grabbed hold of me with her legs.
Our lips locked in a kiss. Breaking away for a second, I whispered, "I'll take it, you're mine, but I warn you," I sucked on her bottom lip, "you're not ready for this."
"Oh?"
"Nope," I smirked against her lips and took her over to the couch. Gently placing her on the armrest, I let her legs dangle on either side of me. Her eyes glossed over as she looked up at me, gently pulling at the bottom of my shirt.
I licked my lip. "You've been with men, I guess?" When she nodded, I smirked. "Cool," I said, pushing her back enough that I could help pull off her jeans. She wiggled to help, still sitting as much as she could. "But fucking them isn't the same as fucking me."
She grinned, eyes trailing down to the bulge in my jeans. "You're sounding cocky right now."
I hooked my finger over the side of her underwear, slowly pulling it off. I kept my focus on her eyes. "Cocky isn't the word for it."
She gulped. Was she nervous? The realization that this was more than a dream was hitting now, wasn't it? Every night she thought of me and wanted me, but I wasn't there, so she'd settled on her imagination and vague memories she only assumed were real. But as she sat half naked in front of me, watching as I undid the button to my jeans and pushed them down to my knees, she knew what she'd thought before wouldn't compare.
"Don't be scared," I whispered, cupping her chin. "You'll feel my energy, but nothing's happening to you, okay?" Licking my lip, I glanced down at her trembling belly. "So just tell me when you're ready," my gaze shot back up to hers, "and if you want me to stop, tell me that, too."
A mix of curiosity and desire took over her bright eyes as she leaned back against the couch, bottom still seated on the armrest. She slid a finger between her teeth when I gently rubbed her thighs. I admired her entirely; her beauty, her body, the never-ending glow of her brown skin. I thought of this nightly, dreamt of her, forever craving to feel her underneath me, to hear her anxious voice moaning my name.
Octavio.
Gripping her legs, I pulled her closer to me, so we'd connect. She slid onto me effortlessly, her warmth wrapping around my dick with luscious ecstasy. My jaw dropped as she arched, facing and turning against the couch cushion. I moaned when she did. And when her hand shot out to mine, gripping her legs as I did, I slowed my thrust. "Are you okay?" I breathed, looking down at her with hooded eyes.
She trembled and bit her lip. Her nails dug into the top of my hand as she adjusted to me. Then she looked at me with needy eyes. "I feel you everywhere," she whimpered, sliding her hand away from mine, down her leg, and onto her stomach. "I'm burning."
I grinned, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. She was fine. The heat of my power pushed into her, filling her body and soul. This wasn't something she could experience in a dream. I'd seen people cry in ecstasy under a demon because of hell's fury. I didn't want Priscilla to cry through this; I wanted her to welcome and enjoy it, just as she'd done before.
"If this gets too hot, I can stop." Despite what I said, I didn't pull out. I remained, relishing in the way she quivered around me. But if she wanted to back out, I'd stop without hesitation and hold her, reminding her that despite the desires of the flesh, I cared about every part of her just the same.
"No." Whimpering, she pushed against the cushion to slide me deeper into her warmth. A low groan slipped past my lips as she took the length of me. "I want this."
And so did I.
I took her like this, keeping her on the edge of the couch so we connected perfectly each time. Her cries of pleasure echoed in the emptiness of the house. I wanted to cover her mouth to muffle her sounds, but the selfish part of me wanted to hear every noise she'd make when my dick slid deeper when her hips rocked for more friction. So, I watched her, admiring the glow on her face from her blushing cheeks and the sweat forming on her forehead.
"Octavio," she moaned, hand reaching out again so she touched my bandaged chest. I wanted more than anything to feel her skin against mine, but there was time for that.
She cried out again, looking into my eyes with a dark gaze. "Octavio..."
"Yeah?" I groaned, pulling her up so she sat and threw her arms around my neck. I never pulled out, and the changed position made her cry louder. This time I muffled it with a kiss, allowing her to moan in my mouth.
Her hands gripped my hair as she took all of me. When she rocked her hips to meet my every thrust, I knew she was close. So was I.
"Shit," she lifted her eyes to focus on mine, holding my gaze as she quietly breathed in moans, then arched back, "fuck, Envy...."
That's what I wanted to hear. The enjoyment in her voice, to look into my eyes in disbelief because no one made her feel this; no one else would. As she came, so did I, and that connection sealed our sins in Hell. She leaned back as dark fire erupted around us, engulfing us in my curse. When it hit her skin, she moaned, allowing the burn to overtake her.
I touched her stomach to keep her still, to ride out my orgasm. And the burn came over me, too. I saw the dark green glow from my eyes reflect on her skin, and when she looked at me, she smiled, mesmerized by my demon nature.
"Was the wait worth it?" she whispered, planting a soft kiss on the corner of my lips.
Holding her close, I kissed her forehead. "I should ask you the same question."
"Oh yeah," she moaned into a laugh, covering her face. "And it's mine, right?" She looked at my face.
I brushed my fingers over her cheek. "I've been yours for a hundred years," I whispered. "That's never going to change."
Something crashed upstairs as I slid my hand through her hair to bring her in for another kiss. We both froze, eyes sliding to the ceiling. Priscilla giggled against my lips and then hid her face in my chest. "I forgot Gluttony's sleeping upstairs."
Oh, really? Wasn't that awkward? Pushing my tongue into my cheek, I snorted and shook my head. "Guess he heard all of that, huh?"