Page 165 of Wicked Believer
Including one that readthreesomes and multipartner play.
My thoughts turn to Azrael.
Is that who Lucifer had in mind when he—?
I shake my head.
No.No, I’m letting my fantasies get the better of me.
What I feel for Azrael is a schoolgirl crush.
It doesn’t hold a candle to what I have with Lucifer.
I belong to Lucifer, plain and simple, and whoever he chooses to share me with.
All the guests are well-informed and signed hefty NDA agreements that require them to adhere to the stoplight system, and the dungeon monitors are here to enforce it if anyone gets out of line. I’m as safe as I possibly could be.
Jax taps me on the ass, the playful, unexpected sting causing me to laugh as we head back to the playroom. “Go get your man, Charlotte.” She grins at me. “Or should I saymen?”
“What?”
I turn to find Lucifer standing beside the exposure bench, shirtless and stripped down to only a pair of leather breaches that lace closed at the crotch. Azmodeus stands at his side, his outfit now changed so it’s nearly identical to Lucifer’s, except for the fact that his bare ass is completely exposed, because of course whatever pants he wore would be assless.
I blink, a little confused and weirdly disappointed, if I’m honest.
Azmodeus is not who I was expecting to see.
I glimpse to where Azrael stands with his arms crossed on the other side of the room, overseeing everything, but if he’s thinking the same thing I am, he doesn’t dare show it.
His cold blue eyes lock on to mine, and I blush, trying not to think about how exposed I am in these pasties, as I turn toward Lucifer.
Suddenly the collar around my throat feels incrementally tighter.
Can he see how looking at Death made my nipples hard? Would he care?
I’m not really sure of the answer.
I make my way toward Lucifer, and when I reach him, he takes my hand in his. “You’re certain you’re ready for this?” he asks, so low only I can hear him.
I nod feebly.
We’ve never done a scene in public before or with anyone else participating, so it’s natural I would be nervous, but it’s not the thought of everyone watching that has me uneasy. Or Azmodeus. My gaze flits to Azrael again.
Why does it feel so wrong that he’s not here beside Lucifer and me?
“Yes, I’m ready,” I say giving him the verbal confirmation he’s waiting for.
“Good.” Lucifer smirks at me. “I’ll be gentle with you tonight. You know what to do.”
He gives a quick tug on my play collar, a reminder that it’s time to abandon all the polite pretenses we maintain in public. That familiar light feeling of subspace starts to bubble up inside me, and I sink into it.
I drop to my knees, and I think I hear someone in the crowd gasp—Jax maybe?—as I lower my head and gently kiss the tops of his steel-toed play boots.
“Is it time to play now, Daddy?”
“Yes, little dove.” Lucifer straps on his fingerless leather gloves as I kneel before him, patiently waiting, before his voice deepens to a seductively low register. “On the exposure bench.”
I do as I’m told, recognizing a few seconds later when I’m spread open and Azmodeus is cuffing my wrists over my head that a crowd started to gather while I changed. Slowly, the lights dim, spotlighting Lucifer, Azmodeus, and me, until it feels like the three of us are alone. The only face I can see directly across the crowd is ...
