Page 50 of Sinful Pride

The song faded into silence, and I beamed at both of my dates. I was officially writing this idea down as a success.

Our meetings continued like that. Not every day had to be exciting; sometimes it was just spending time together, watching a movie, getting a bite to eat, or one of them swinging by to bother me during lunch hours at my work. I cherished every moment, no matter how unique or bland it was.

Then came the day three months after they asked me on a date. I felt like I was sitting on needles because I was pretty sure something was supposed to happen. Right? They did three months of scouting, then three months of gift-giving, so it followed that after three months of dating there would be a next stage? I hoped it was what I wanted.

We were hanging out in the well-equipped entertainment room at the Embassy, all three of us mooching shamelessly at leftovers from Zachariel’s last endeavors in the kitchen while watching some B-rated horror movie. I was waiting for them to make a move. The movie ended, and sometime later, the date apparently ended as well because Raphael started making noises about the late hour and leaving so that Beelzebub could get his beauty sleep.

“Wait,” I said, placing my hand on Raphael’s forearm. “Aren’t you going to…? I thought… Can’t we finally…?” I stared intently at Raphael’s mouth. “It has been three months. Show me what’s next.”

“Oh,” Raphael spluttered. “I thought we were taking it slow. I didn’t want to pressure you…”

“And I was just waiting for the right moment. I think I’ve found it.” Beelzebub plastered himself to my back and turned my head so that he could kiss me over my shoulder.

I shuddered at the touch of those cold lips and the feeling of warm tongue sliding into my mouth, licking at my lips when he couldn’t go as deep as he wanted in this position. By the time Beelzebub lessened his iron grip on my chin I was breathless. He ran a thumb over his lip, as if he was enjoying the taste I left behind.

“Now, that’s a good start, don’t you think? You should kiss him as well.” I was unceremoniously shoved in Raphael’s direction. His lips were already waiting for me, eager to reopen the connection between us. I chased the friction and heat, our distinct tastes mingling together. After what felt like ages, I pulled away with a moan. “Great, but Raphael had some good points as well, so I think we should take it slow. Come on, feathers, let’s go. It’s enough for now.”

“You bastard,” Raphael swore, but let himself be pulled towards the door.

“Ah, I missed tormenting you both. See ya, Tirael. Next time I won’t stop myself and I will give you more, so better be ready!”

I was ready now, so ready, but I surrendered myself to Beelzebub’s dominance, his control over this situation.

After all, I missed that as well.

Chapter 19

Tirael

Waiting another week for the next date, this one organized by Beelzebub, was pure torture. Different scenarios chased each other through my mind as I imagined what the promised ‘more’ entailed. When the day came, I arrived at the provided address quite early. Not wanting to look too eager I paced not far away from the modern building. When I spotted Raphael doing the same we shared an embarrassed smile.

“You too, huh? How about we just go for it and surprise Beelzebub?”

“It’s better than standing here,” I agreed.

The security of the building took our names, Raphael Deusericus and Tirael Tsukada, one of our human aliases, and directed us towards the elevator. We had to go to the very top floor.

“Of course he has a penthouse,” Raphael snorted.

“You have a seaside cabin in Ireland,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, you caught me there. It’s just… penthouses are so modern. I prefer a house or just a standard apartment over this. Having the entire floor to yourself, being separated like this, but still having to deal with a building full of neighbors, seems counterproductive to me.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” Beelzebub drawled. “Are you done slandering my taste?”

“Ah, sorry,” Raphael said sheepishly.

“What do you think, Tirael? A pompous villa with old architecture, wiring that’s a fire hazard, and plumbing from the last century, or a modern, slick, efficient place like mine?” Beelzebub asked as he showed us around the penthouse.

The color-coded furniture from top designers and shining appliances in the kitchen kept to the theme of white, red, and black, with the occasional pop of color from tall green plants standing in hexagonal pots or carefully framed art dotting the walls. It looked very much like the flat of one of the human billionaires; a successful business owner who had the space of his home designed by professionals.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “You two know your experiences aren’t exactly universal, right? Sure, most angels and demons get a place to stay down here, eventually, but usually it’s only the higher-ups or the people who have jobs that allow them to stay on Earth for a prolonged time that have a need and money for more than one house.”

“It seems to me you have joined the ranks of those people right now,” Raphael pointed out, “what with your permanent position at the Embassy.”

“Are you planning to move out of that shabby little hole they gave you?” Beelzebub’s eyes narrowed as he no doubt recalled how my room looked from that one time they visited me.

While Beelzebub’s apartment looked like a carefully curated space where everything had its place and even the little decorations played a role, my room at the Embassy looked like a place where someone slept and that was it. But over three months had passed since that moment, and what Beelzebub didn’t know was that my room started to look completely different since then.

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