Page 91 of Touched By Death

Casting a quick glance at the doorway, I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip, tasting the remaining dampness of Dmitriy’s kiss.

Ronan kills the distance between us and hugs me to him while Daemon and Alaric inspect every inch of the room.

My eyes lock on Dariana, who clenches her jaw. The worry in her gaze tells me she’s scared for me. The lengths my stalker is willing to go to secure his need for revenge. Our enemies are mounting, and it’s only a matter of time before something happens to shatter our illusion of fragile safety.

I know. I’ve been there before.

“Babe…” Ronan’s voice steals my attention. He cups my chin and presses his lips to mine, replacing the memory of Dmitriy with his own biting kiss.

I let him taste me. I let him push me up against the photographs and growl into my mouth.

“What do you think?” Alaric asks Daemon as he rips down a photograph and tosses it to the floor.

Daemon grinds his teeth so tightly at the sight of me bound, naked, and chained that I worry he’ll damage his teeth. When he finally speaks, his voice drips with spine-chilling evil. “He better pray someone else gets to him before I do because I’m his worst fucking nightmare. No one hurts my angel and gets away with it.”

“Can you pick up on anything?” Dariana asks, looking away from me.

“He’s not been here for a while. His scent is faint but familiar.”

“Familiar?”

Daemon turns, and his eyes cruise over me, lingering on my bare thighs where his father’s dried cum marks me. “He’s masking his scent on purpose.”

Dariana and Alaric exchange glances.

Daemon takes one final, long look at the room. “I’ll inform my father. He’ll have this room scoured from floor to ceiling for evidence.” His dark gaze lands on me with the charged air of an inbound storm. “Take her upstairs, scrub her clean of my father, and tie her to my damn bed.”

Dariana clears her throat. “Last time we tied her to a bed, she escaped.”

“Good point,” he muses, and I stiffen when a cruel smile unfurls on his lips. “Take her downstairs and throw her into one of the cellars.”

“What the fuck?” I blurt, eyes wide. “The cellars?”

“Welcome back to Hell, little angel.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

LUCIFER

Whiskey glass in hand, I choke on my drink when my son storms into my office like a thundercloud that’s ready to unleash on a choppy ocean. It’s funny as hell.

Not that he sees the funny side of it.

Such a spoil sport.

Striding up to me, he hauls me up from my chair and tosses me onto the desk. Paperwork goes flying, and a candle crashes to the floor. “You came on her fucking cunt?!”

“In my defense, I didn’t fuck her.”

Daemon is not amused. Teeth bared, he grips my shirt, lifts me off the desk while I hold my hands up placatingly, and slams me back down with enough force to crack the wood. “I will kill you one day!”

“Lighten up, son,” I say with a chuckle. “It was just a bit of fun.”

He snarls loud enough that my temper flares, and I shove him back.

“That’s enough! Don’t forget your place.”

His snarl only intensifies as he flares his wings in an aggressive display of power that would get a lesser man killed. I allow it for all of two seconds before closing the distance between us in a flurry of movement and grabbing him in a chokehold. My own wings unfold to stretch the length of the room. “I am Lucifer, the damn devil. Is that clear? Or are you still mistaking me for a Christian youth leader from the human world? If I want to coat the girl’s pussy in cum, I will. And you should be grateful that I felt generous enough to leave her tight little cunt alone for you to ruin. Behave like a damn immature brat, and I might fuck all her holes next time.”

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