Page 22 of Falling for the Devil

After all, they were going to be spending eternity together wandering around a black hole, so perhaps celibacy was no longer an issue. And if it was... he didn’t care anymore.

Her hands splayed out on his heaving chest while Diana nipped on his bottom lip, then traced the outline of his mouth with her tongue. Every minuscule movement eliciting a deep heat that engulfed him. A moan rumbled from his chest, mingling with a softer one from Diana.

Lucifer crushed her to him with one arm, while the other hand fisted in her hair. He yearned to devour her whole, but also to taste every inch of her porcelain skin in slow, tantalizing motion until they both screamed for release. Every sensation rampaging through him, he wanted to give back to her tenfold.

His tongue darted out to dance with Diana’s then, unable to resist, he crushed his mouth to hers, deepening the kiss.

They clung to each other, but still Lucifer needed to be closer to her, needed to be one with her. Nothing else would satisfy this unfamiliar, yet primal need.

He untangled his hand from her hair to graze her skin from her exposed back around to the light, sheer bodice of her gown. Even though his physical vessel was floating off into space, her hands explored his light body before tugging Lucifer’s hand to her breast.

She stopped their kiss and pulled back. “Touch me,” her soft voice begged.

The action, as well as her words, stoked the fire within him. His hand shook over the fabric, then his thumb brushed her supple breast. The skin underneath pebbled, poking up ever so slightly through the material. Diana gasped. He searched her face for a sign of discontent or displeasure, but found her eyes closed, her lips parted in a pant of “Please,” and her head tossed back causing her chest to arch toward him even more.

Again, his thumb flicked over the peaked mound. Her soft moan undid any restraint he could’ve summoned. His hand cupped her full breast, while his thumb continued to taunt and tease her nipple. With some hesitation, that same thumb brushed the flimsy material aside, revealing the perfect pink peak—ripe, and his for the tasting.

He wanted nothing more than to worship her. His tongue flicked the exposed nipple, then traced a lazy circle around it, before sucking it into his mouth. Her entire body trembled underneath him, welling up desire inside him. He lavished the one breast with his mouth and then tore the material covering her other breast in his eagerness to explore.

Perfection. That was what Diana was. Perfection. Soft, but every muscle toned like an Amazonian, but without the harshness and attitude. Full, rounded breasts, but not overly endowed like some of the bar wenches he’d seen in other worlds. The waistline of her dress cinched in between her breasts and equally curvy hips still partially covered by the fabric. She shimmied in his grip, tugging her own dress down further until a cute little belly button peeked out.

Although he sought to gaze upon every inch of her with earnest longing, Lucifer raised his head so he could peer into the honeyed depths of her eyes. A question remained between them. Unspoken.

A smile played along her lips. She leaned over to whisper into his ear, “Yes, with everything I am, yes to it all.” Her tongue darted out to trace his ear. “Yes.”

That one word unleashed him in every way. He was no longer bound to duty, to honor, to the unloving life of an angel warrior. He was hers. Whatever she wanted from him, he would give to her without question, without doubt.

Knowing she could claim him fully with a mere look or word or action, Lucifer surrendered.

Without a physical body, he had only to think it so and his spiritual armor fell away, leaving him naked before her. Her eyes widened. A delectable smile tilted up the corners of her mouth. Diana rose up on her knees, then tore the dress from her body.

He had been wrong before. She was better than perfect. He didn’t know what word could describe her. But perfect was not enough.

She took his hand again, pressing a kiss to his palm, sending shockwaves up his arms and down his torso. Pulling his arm behind her, Diana pressed her naked breasts against him. She placed his hand at the small of her back. Instinctively, it drifted lower to cup her plump ass. She emitted the cutest squeak, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest.

Then another, muted but quite loud, chuckle reverberated the energetic cocoon around them. Lucifer yanked Diana behind him to face down what impossible horror had discovered them in the great abyss.

Bright, glowing green eyes peered at them from just outside their bubble.

Damned Olivier!

Chapter 12

Hell Hath No Fury

Bathing in an glacial pool... this must be what it feels like.

Despite the scorching heat crawling up her neck to the tips of her flaming red hair, Diana’s body cringed in upon itself. If it had been possible, she’d willingly have imploded until she was nothing more than a tiny molecule hovering in the air.

Not a moment earlier, an unquenchable heat had ignited every cell. She’d been this close to giving herself—body, soul, and heart—over to Lucifer. Without any doubts, without reservations. What harm could it have done? They were floating around in the pitch-black abyss for seemingly eternity without reason to suspect they could be saved, would’ve never seen another living soul... ever.

The rapture she’d been so anxious to experience, the ecstasy of making love for the first time—and she’d already hoped many more times, with him—had morphed into an ice-cold lake of humiliation and regret.

None of it was made any better by Olivier’s sneering, contempt-filled green-eyed stare. And that was compounded by the utter devastation and remorse oozing off the man who she’d almost given her greatest gift. The bastard wouldn’t even look her in the eyes. He’d muttered some half-assed attempt at an apology to her but had nearly groveled for his brother’s understanding... and silence.

Olivier—for his part—had said nothing. In silence, he’d dragged the divine light cocoon they’d shared through the black hole, back to the edge of oblivion. It’d taken no time at all to extract them, as if they’d been hovering a breath away from salvation instead of having plunged into the deepest reaches of the abyss.

Back on solid land—some planet for which she didn’t know the name, nor cared to know—he’d taken to facial expressions and body language indicating his disappointment. She didn’t know if Olivier was angrier at Lucifer for defying some divine decree against angels having carnal relationships, at Diana for tempting his brother into ruination, or if he was just pissed it hadn’t been him trapped in the black hole with her. If he leered at her one more time, she was going to smack him across his arrogant face or turn him into a boar so she could shoot him with an arrow and then gut him before barbequing him over an open fire.

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