Page 43 of Devil Bound
The Devil’s bedroom contained a large round bed set against a freestanding wall.Like the rest of the house, white was the dominant color in the room, and the sheets and puffy pillows made the circular bed look like a marshmallow, even with the light gray comforter.The lighting scheme—some interior design artistry—divided the room, hiding what lay behind the freestanding wall from sight and really pulling the focus to the marshmallow bed.
With Lucifer and his rock star-who-just-fucked hairstyle and demeanor, something rougher with more leather and animal print wouldn’t have surprised me.The place, as it was, looked almost…soft.The absence of leather was a relief I’d not confess to the Devil, but knowing I wouldn’t have to worry about touching stuff and picking up the last painful moments of some poor animal’s life was nice.
Or it would have been nice if I’d planned on getting into that bed.I looked away and to the right, where a fluffy carpet in the exact same light gray as the comforter was laid out on the cream marble floor in front of a fireplace.On the carpet was one of those big armchairs that looked well-upholstered and super comfortable.Next to it, on a low table, books were piled high.
I hadn’t expected the Devil to be a reader.That seemed very highbrow of him, and I had a small urge to plop into the armchair and see what he was reading, whether it was nonfiction or something old and dry like he was.
I pushed that thought from my mind.It was paramount that I not do any such thing and remain in control of the situation.Lucifer made his dark Devil noise again, and his hand landed on my ass.Not an accident.
“Nelly—"
“Get your hands off me.I’m not having sex with you.”I spun and swatted at his hand, but he was too quick—damn his immortal reflexes—and all I managed to hit was air.He grinned, a fucking big cat smirking at the canary’s chirped complaints.
“No?”Lucifer said.
“N—I’m not having sex with you, Lucy.”
He sighed and closed the distance between us, his arms longer than mine and his hold strong.He buried his face against my neck and licked a sizzling line of heat along my skin there.
“Then why do you smell like lust and desire, Nelly?Like someone offering himself to the gods of carnal joys on Beltane?Say please, and I will indulge you.I’ll let you ride my cock all the way to morning.”
“I don’t want to ride your fucking cock, but it’s nice to know you have one,” I said, trying to get away from him.“And stop fucking calling me Nelly.”
He cocked his head.“Why wouldn’t I have a cock?Nelly.Did you think I didn’t have a cock?Wasthatthe problem all this time?Did you think I have Schrödinger’s cock?”
Uncomfortable heat rose to my cheeks.“I didn’t say that.What’s Schrödinger’s cock?”
He waved dismissively.“It’s clearly nothing that applies to me, but some gods have…shall we say variable genitals?”He cupped himself through his tailored jeans.“Not me though.Would you like to check?Here, you can touch it.”
“I don’t fucking want to touch you, Lucifer.”
“Lu-cy.”
If my cheeks had been hot before, they had to be glowing now.“Don’t you dare start with the amnesia again, or I’ll—”
He blinked at me.“Or you’ll say ‘no’ to me?”
I pressed my lips together, which was about all I could think to do in order to make myself shut up.This wasn’t good, not good at all.I wanted to go home and have some instant ramen, maybe even snack on my emergency apple.But the more I struggled against the hold Lucifer had on me, the tighter his arms seemed to wind around me.It was like getting sucked into quicksand: the more you tried to get out of it, the harder it was.Except unlike Lucifer, quicksand wouldn’t be this smug about it.He pressed my back against his front, and yeah, he was rock hard in his pants.
“I think you’re touching after all,” he purred, his voice dark and low.
“And whose fault is that, huh?”
“All yours, Nelly.You got me hard, babe, blushing like a single girl on her way to visit her family, only to find herself sharing a room with the fake country boyfriend she didn’t know she needed.They met when she broke a heel at the bus stop.”
And he accused my brain of not working right.“Country boyfriend?”
He shrugged.“Artistic license.You may think of me as landed gentry, if you prefer.”
“Oh, fuck you, Lucy.”
“Hmm.I don’t think so.”
I tried to ignore the press of his cock against my back, tried to ignore that it made me equal parts scared and excited.He felt large, painfully large, but I didn’t need to think about his size.I had no business wanting this, I couldn’t want this, and I most certainly wouldn’t let him have his damn way with me.
Because he wasn’t landed gentry or my boyfriend, fake or otherwise.
“T-take your hands…” I swallowed.My own damn cock was a fucking traitor.“Off.”
