A bath? How random can your mind get?
"A bath," he calls out as we enter into the main hallway.
"Seriously? A bath?" I ask.
He turns to me and smiles. "With you."
Ah, yes. Another chance to see me naked.
I'm dragged down the hall a lightening speed. The mass of demons milling about barely have time to dodge out of the way. They try to bow in respect, but we've flown past them by the time they dip their heads. I'm fairly sure Usain Bolt couldn't have caught up to us if he tried.
We reach our room in record time. Lucifer grabs the handle and throws the door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges. He pulls me inside and slams the door behind us. He slams his hands together once, and a flurry of my personal maids comes rushing in. They literally run through the walls and screech to a halt, staring at him with wide eyes.
"I said a bath!"
The girls take off, leaving us alone. Lucifer grabs me by the shoulders and spins me around. I can feel his fingers fly against my back as he rips the laces apart. He pulls the back of my dress away, pushing down on the shoulders so it slips off my skin. He ushers me out of my dress, picking the heaps of fabric up and tossing it on the bed.
"Sire," one of the girls has returned. "Your bath is ready."
"Perfect. You may go."
He steps forward and scoops me up in his arms. The action throws me off balance, and I wrap my arms around his neck to steady myself. He carries me across the room to another set of double doors. They're carved with swirling, twisting flames engulfing enormous oak trees. As we get closer, they swing open on their own, revealing Lucifer's private bathroom.
The bathroom is another work of art. The floor is made of grey marble interspaced with slabs of multicolored coral. The walls are marble as well, with panels of carved granite slabs mixed randomly within. There are no Grecian columns here, but towers of solid rock carved into the shapes of demons stretch up to an elaborately paneled glass ceiling. A massive plate-glass window stretches along the far wall, giving a lovely view of the Fire Pits below.
A lone tub stands in the middle of the room. Carved from a single slab of black onyx, it's large enough to hold three men. The fixtures are solid silver, and the carved feet of the tub have tiny silver claws imbedded in the rock. The tub itself is already filled with steaming water.
Hot damn! I could get used to this.
Lucifer walks over to the tub, holding me just inches away from the steamy surface. Gently, he lowers me, dipping me slowly into the water. It's almost heavenly. I groan softly as I sink in, leaning my head back against the rim.
Lucifer pulls his hands away, letting me float in the water. I hear the sharp snap of his zipper and the soft rustle of denim, feel the first gentle ripples in the water as he joins me. The water rolls around my skin as he settles in, sitting across from me and grinning like a madman. His wings flare out around the edge tub, the tips barely brushing the floor.
He lifts one of his hands, crooking a long finger at me. I smile and nearly have to swim across the enormous tub to reach him. His hands wrap around my hips and he pulls me into his lap. I feel his cock twitch against my thigh and it makes me jump. His hands slide up my back, pushing me forward as the climb. My breasts are crushed against his bare chest, and a flurry of delicious shivers races through me. I follow his lead and lean in. He mirrors me and tilts his head up, capturing my lips with his.
What follows is exactly what I've been craving: a good, long, eat-your-face-off make-out session. Our hands are everywhere at once, and I feel an insane desire to stay here for the next ten years. It's one hell of a combination: hot water, deep kissing, hands everywhere...mom would have fainted if she saw this.
Lucifer pulls away suddenly, grinning as he holds me close. "God damn, woman! You've got a fantastic rack one you."
I smile shyly. "Thank you. They're my pride and joy."
His grin turns wicked. "What are you?"
I shrug nonchalantly. "36D. Homegrown and silicone free."
"Fuck, I've scored." He cups my chin in one hands and stares into my eyes. "Leyna's only a 34C. You've beat her by a mile."
I smile proudly. I've beat Leyna in the boobs department, too. Amelia, two. Leyna, zero.
He chews his lip for a moment, and I can see the gears spinning in his head. "You have the perfect body for a titfuck." His eyes have gone misty.
I blush. "Seriously?"
He nods slowly. "Damn straight. You'd be perfect." His eyes flick up to me. "Interested?"
I pause, pondering the question. I've only ever watched a titfuck once, and it was in some crap porno movie. It looked amazingly fun, but I never thought I'd be any good. Of course, this was way before my hormones exploded and blessed me with the chest I have now. Back then, I looked like a damn boy. Still, the prospect always seemed exciting and new, something my rebellious teenage brain craved.
"Possibly," I murmur.
His eyes light up a bit. "Come here."
His hands slide up to my shoulders and he pulls me forward. I relax against him as our bodies are melded together, resting my head on his cool shoulder. His hands caress my back slowly, and I'm so comfortable here it's almost frightening
"Amelia, I have no doubt that you've heard a few tales of my less-than-spotless reputation," his voice is soft, almost strained. "You need to know that most of what you hear is true. I am the rebellious son who turned against his father and became the cruel, manipulative, vengeful tyrant your pastors know and love. I am ruthless, I am selfish, I am a lair."
I freeze, my heart nearly skipping a beat. He's bearing his soul – or what's left of it – to me. Knowing his past, it must be agonizing to admit his faults to another person. I stay quiet, not wanting to ruin what may actually be his confession.
"Contrary to what you may have been told, I do feel guilt. I feel remorse everyday for what I've done to my father and my brothers. I feel like shit every time I think back to the happier points in my existence, because I know I've ruined them." He takes a long ragged breath, and I can almost feel the tears that must be welling up inside him.
"But I feel rejected. I've apologized endless times to my father, and he turns hisback to me. My own brothers refuse to look at me, and it only deepens the wounds I already have. It seems like the more I try, the less they accept me."
I sigh softly and reach around to stroke his shoulders. My poor husband. Rejected by his own father and brothers for not adhering to one rule. They're more screwed up then my family.
"I suppose all that rejection left me bitter and angry. Angry enough to want to prove my dad wrong. To show him the humans were weaker and more volatile than us angels. So I became a tempter, a trickster, a stealer of souls to show him how flawed your race was. And I was right. You're very easily seduced by money, power and sex."
"Why are you telling me this?" I mumble against his skin.
He sighs. "You must understand. I never meant to become like this. I only did as an act of retribution for being cast aside. But I am the monster I have created, so I do my best to make sure I do my work well." He takes another shaky breath. "I am a liar and a trickster, but I will never lie or trick you, Amelia."
"Why not?"