Page 82 of Pray for Scars
“Do you want to make me happy, Lilith?” he asks me.
My brows pull together, and I can’t find words. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.
I turn my head, looking at Jeremiah Rain. The boy who followed me across an entire country. Who protected me from something worse than his own soul. His eyes are big and sad, and he looks like he wants to put that gun in his own mouth and pull the fucking trigger.
But he doesn’t say a word. And he still doesn’t move.
Lucifer steps away, and I resist the urge to reach for Jeremiah.
“Crawl to him again, Sid,” he says quietly. “Because right now, that would make me really fucking happy.” He takes another step back, until he’s beside Jeremiah.
My eyes find Jeremiah’s.
He shakes his head. “Sid, you don’t have to do this…”
Lucifer smiles. “But she wants to,” he says quietly. “Don’t you, love?”
I take a step toward Jeremiah, until I’m standing right in front of him. I see his eyes roam over my body before they return to my face.
I sink down to my knees, my hands on his thighs.
His sharp inhale tells me everything I need to know. That every single person in this room is fucked up and that this…it’s going to happen. I trail my hand up to his inner thigh, palm him over his boxers.
“Good girl,” Lucifer says quietly, watching. He puts the gun on the ground, sinks down behind me.
Jeremiah groans, closing his eyes as I work my hand over him, only the fabric of his boxers between us.
Lucifer is right behind me, but he doesn’t touch me yet. “I want to watch,” he says in that husky voice that makes my toes curl. “I want to watch you fuck him, Sid. Is that okay?”
I swallow. Slowly, I nod.
And then he says, “Lift up your arms.”
I do.
Lucifer pulls up my shirt, lets it fall to the floor. His hands go to my bare back, roaming over every inch of me, his chest pressed against me.
I keep touching Jeremiah, whose eyes are locked on mine.
Something is wrong.But if I do this, maybe Lucifer will leave us again. Maybe we can work this out. Sex can heal.
Maybe I’m just fucked in the head enough to want to believe those things, to give me an excuse to dothis thing.
We share a last name.
I shouldn’t do this. And as if he can read my fucking mind, Lucifer brings his hands to my forearms, holding them down by my side. “No backing out now,” he whispers in my ear.
Jeremiah doesn’t look at him, but I see his jaw clench. Lucifer’s hands go from my arms to my skirt.
“Stand up,” Lucifer whispers in my ear.
I do. He pulls my panties down, and they drop to the floor between my feet. I step out of them, and Lucifer pushes me gently in the back, toward Jeremiah. My bare pussy is close enough for him to touch, if he wasn’t tied up. Close enough for him to smell.
“Let him taste you, Lilith,” Lucifer says in my ear, his hands on my waist. He’s behind me, his face against mine.
Jeremiah blinks, his gaze on me.
And just as I’m about to take another step toward him, Lucifer laughs, coldly and cruel, and stops me from getting closer. That rasp of laughter makes the hairs on my arm stand on end.
