Page 84 of Pray for Scars
“Not here.”
His smile falters. He turns to look at Jeremiah. I see my brother’s eyes are still closed.
“He’s not even here, baby girl,” Lucifer croons.
“What did you do to him?” I whisper.
“Quid pro quo.”He turns back to me, let’s go of my arms, and shrugs out of his hoodie, then his shirt. I see the scars on his abdomen.
Scars for me.
He comes closer, runs his hands over my torso. “You wanna back out?” he asks me, smirking, eyes flicking down to my chest. “Is that it, Lilith?”
I swallow. Hard. Jeremiah is…knocked out.
Lucifer did that.
But he was just returning a favor. Wasn’t he?
I bite my lip, shake my head.
“Tell me,” Lucifer says, his words lower, harsher. “Tell me what you want.”
I’m going to hell. “You.”
He turns away from me, knocks everything from the table onto the floor, plastic cups, ice chips spilling on the ground from nearly empty drinks. Then he picks me up, carries me to the table, lays me down.
“Spread your legs.”
Reluctantly, I uncross them. He still has his jeans on. That’s not how this is supposed to go.
He shakes his head, displeased.
“No, Sid.Spread them. Surely you know how to do that? You would have done it for him,” he whispers, staring down at me. “Why not me?”
Because he was there when I needed him. He was convenient. You…my heart fucking burns for you.
I don’t dare look at Jeremiah as I do as he asks, my knees falling to the side.
He looks down at me, assessing me. His eyes linger on the scar on my thigh. I don’t look away from him, even though I want to. I feel warmth creeping up my cheeks, spreading down my chest. Into my core.
He smiles. “You’re fucking beautiful.” And then he pulls off his shoes, unbuttons his jeans, pulls down his pants. Then his boxer briefs.
I see his scar, and the others, too, on his thigh, slashing across the skull with the ‘U’ through it. The Unsaint’s tattoo. He sees me watching him and he grabs my ankles, positions both of my legs over his shoulders, tugging me forward to the edge of the table.
I feel his cock brush against me, but my eyes don’t leave his.
“You weren’t the only one, Sid,” he says softly, and I know he means the scars. It hurts more, to hear it that way. Almost gently.
His hands are wrapped around my calves. He bites his bottom lip, glancing down at me again. “But neither was I. Not tonight. Not ever, right?”
He lets go of my calf, brings his hand to his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base of it. He’s so perfect, and that vein…it’s similar to the vein on his neck that I can’t fucking get enough of.
He nudges against me, and I suck in a breath. He rubs the tip up and down my wet slit, almost humming as he does.
“Doesn’t matter, though, Sid. You’re fucking soaked for me right now. And right now…” He presses the head of his cock against my entrance. With my legs on his shoulders like this, it aches as he pushes into me. “Right now is all that matters.”
I forget about Jeremiah.
