I moan, tightening against him.
“Tell me again,” he says against my throat, one hand around the back of my head, the other inside of me. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I say into his neck. “Always. It will always be you.”Lies. Beautiful lies.
“Say it, baby,” he urges me. “Say my name.”
I don’t give a damn that our makeup is smearing, that our plan is delayed, that this will be our last time. I don’t have to think about that right now.
“Lucifer,” I moan against his ear, and his fingers move deeper inside of me, his cock rock hard against my thigh. “I’m yours, Lucifer.”
He pulls back from me, taking his fingers with him, and trailing them up my stomach, over my breast, my nipple, my throat. He brings them to my lips.
“Open your mouth.” His voice is hoarse, and it sends a shock of want andneedthrough me.
I do as he asks, tasting myself. Earthy and salty and sweet, and he meets my mouth, his fingers between us.
He groans, and bites down on my lip again, fresh blood seeping onto both of our tongues.
He leans back, reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to be apart even for a second. But his fingers trail over my lips and back down my throat, and I move my hips under him, adjust myself, uncrossing my legs from his back, making room for him.
Looking down between us, biting his lip, he guides himself into me. Just a little at a time.
I gasp, my hand around his neck tightening, one around his bicep, my nails digging in. He glances up at me, his brow furrowed.
“Is this okay?” he asks me softly.
I nod, eager for the rest of him.
He pushes his way inside of me, and I relish in the feel of him. The fullness of him. I clench around him and he moans, whispering my name in my ear.
“Fuck, Sid,” he groans.
I gasp, wrapping my legs around him again, feeling every inch of him deep within me. This is what I’ve been waiting for. For a year, I thought I’d missed it. I thought he’d fucked me over, and I didn’t even have the memory of the two of us joined together. I thought he had tainted that forever.
But I didn’t miss it. It’s this.
This is us. We may never be this way again; we might never connect in this way again the rest of our lives. But I know I’ll never forget this.
He moves slowly at first, letting me adjust to him. But then his movements come faster and faster. He has one hand against the headboard, the other under my head, cradling me. He gazes down at me as he moves, his eyes searching over every inch of my face.
His own makeup is distorted, warped from my hands on him. There’s blood at the corner of his lip and I tilt my head up, pressing my lips against his as he moves. He groans again at the taste of me, the taste of us on our tongues.
He lifts his head up, breaking the kiss off, and he moves faster, slamming into me. I close my eyes tight, drowning in the sensation ofhim.
The headboard creaks against his hand, but he doesn’t stop. He slams harder into me, and then his movements become jerky.
“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Look at me.”
I do.
And I know why he does it. Why he doesn’t pull out. Mayhem doesn’t give a fuck about anything, but he didn’t dothis.
But Lucifer does. And I know why.
I know why he empties himself into me without asking. I know he wants to keep me here. I know that, even though he hadn’t done what I thought he had, he’s still toxic. His feelings for me are still so many levels of wrong. I know that he wants to own me. He wants me to behis.I know he thinks that maybe if I have his child, he can keep me.
I know it, and I don’t say anything.