Page 166 of Wicked Believer
Azrael’s.
Oh fuck.
I pull against my restraints a little, the voyeuristic guests chuckling a bit as they mistake it for part of the scene.
Does Lucifer know who I’m going to be staring at the entire time he does this?
I glance toward him, and his eyes darken.
He knows. Hemustknow.
This isn’t the sort of detail that would ever escape him, which means ...
Does hewantme to watch Azrael?
Lucifer’s expression doesn’t give anything away, and with the crowd of guests present, he may as well have gagged me.
My arms are suspended above my head, my hands pressed together like I’m deep in prayer, and my high-heeled feet are positioned off to the bench’s sides so that I’m open and spread wide for him. The sheer thong I’m wearing isn’t doing much to cover my pussy, and I have no doubt Lucifer plans to rip the lingerie off me as soon as we get started anyway.
Lucifer steps back, his attention trailing over me like he’s admiring his work. “What do you think, brother? Where should we start first?”
It’s not until that exact moment I fully process that Azmodeus wasn’t just teasing me earlier. Heisallowed to touch me.
Lust and Lucifer and I are going to play.
As I stare down Daddy Death.
Oh fuck, I’m not sure I can handle this.
Azmodeus comes forward, giving a similarly hungry appraisal of me like he can see all my weak points, the inner workings of my nerve endings.
“For a schoolgirl like her, start with the pussy,” Az says, licking his lips appreciatively. “Coy kittens need time to warm up before they come out to play.”
Schoolgirl?
The way he says it is so dismissive and embarrassing, it’s arousing, the sharp sting of his words whipping through me.
I’m nothing more than an object.
A nameless cunt for Lucifer and Azmodeus to take, to degrade.
And I love it.
Az looks to Lucifer, who gives a curt nod. With Lucifer’s permission, Az pulls aside my thong to cup my pussy. I arch into his touch, straining against where my hands are cuffed to try and get more of it. It’s the same one he used on me in the gallery the other day—or was that a few weeks ago?—I can’t remember.
All at once, I can’t think of anything other than how much I want someone, anyone who’s willing to do the job, to fuck me, and considering it’s Azmodeus who’s currently stroking up and down the seam of my pussy, watching me in that mouthwatering way, he’s the perfect first candidate.
But even though I can’t see him at the moment, I can’t help but think of Azrael.
I can feel his gaze on me, his power shielding Lucifer and me.
Waiting. Watching. Like he always does.
Above me, Azmodeus’s eyes turn molten as his irises start to glow. Not like hellfire, but something similar.
Lust is ready to play.
He moves his fingers in just the right way so that parts of me wake up, parts I wasn’t even aware of previously, and I realize I hadn’t gotten the full blast of what Azmodeus’s touch is capable of before this.
