Page 46 of Made to Sin

He pointed to a door by the corner. “There’s a bathroom in there. Go freshen up, and Luciano will be here soon. Don’t try anything stupid.”

I reluctantly nodded, and he slammed the main door behind him, leaving me alone.

I wished I could say I listened to his warning, but I didn’t. In less than thirty minutes, I learned that I crucially needed to work on my self-control. As soon as I finished showering and brushing my teeth with the spare supplies, I started snooping through Luciano’s office. It had been three days of being tied up, and my body yearned for movement.

The drawers were locked, as expected, so I settled on examining the various books on display. Maybe this was similar to one of those spy movies where there were triggers that opened to secret chambers. From the lack of windows in this room, the theory would be fitting.

Pulling and testing the spines of his books for about tenminutes, I didn’t find any hidden rooms, and quickly got bored. I turned my attention to judging the titles he had instead. Although I preferred romance, I had some appreciation for the classic literature he shelved too.

I couldn’t contain my unladylike snort upon seeing a rare edition of the Bible. It was sin enough that the holy book sat in a warehouse filled with crime. How very fitting for the devil embodied to have it in pristine condition.

We all had to find our salvation somehow.

“Haven’t you learned your lesson to not touch things that aren’t yours?” Luciano's grated drawl startled me, causing me to drop the Bible.

Goddammit, I was already condemned for more than I could repent in one lifetime. Now, I was positively doomed.

I glared at the book and then at him, unable to place my blame. His gaze followed the fallen book. When he noticed which title I dropped, his lips tipped up.

The reminder of the last time I saw him bruised my pride and made me salty. “Why would the devil need a copy of the Bible? Trying to redeem your blackened soul?” I snarked.

He shrugged. “We can go with that.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for someone like you, Luciano,” I taunted with a brightness I didn’t feel.

Not bothering to reply to the dig, he crossed the room and crouched on one knee in front of me to pick up the stray book. With the Bible in his hands and a devious glint in his eyes when he looked back up at me, he was the replica of how I imagined a fallen angel: ethereal. Ethereal not in a good way, but in a way that crushed hearts and stole souls. In a way that mammas would warn their teenage daughters to stay away from.

I hated it, but I was mesmerized by the devastation that was him. My legs turned into jelly, and I had to lean against thebookshelf for support as my hands curled into small fists. Though my mind remembered his rejections, my body craved his attention.

“You’re staring, Katarina,” he arrogantly chastised.

“It’s not every day you see Lucifer hold a Bible.”

He gave his head a small shake, smirking at my sarcasm as he stood. “Was it worth it, sweetheart?”

I didn’t answer, not understanding the hidden message in his question. Without waiting for me to make up my mind, he closed the distance between us. My heart pounded furiously inside my chest for each step he took.

Six feet.

Three feet.

Inches. We were a mere few inches apart now. He placed an arm on the wooden shelf next to me, enclosing me with his body.

“What are you doing?” I shakingly asked.

Hetsked.“It’s a sin to not put the Bible back where it belongs, Katarina.”

“Oh…” I mumbled. Unable to concentrate on anything when he was this close, I resorted to counting my breaths while waiting for him to finish.

It should have taken him less than five seconds to put the book on the shelf, but he purposely dragged it on.

I exhaled a low sigh of relief once he was done, thinking he would pull away. Instead, he nuzzled into my hair, his hot breath fanning the sensitive spot on my neck, and let out a low groan from the base of his throat. The sound made me feel like I did something good, and, sickeningly, I wanted to continue doing it.

With a mixture of reflex and lust, I tilted my neck to give him more access. My nails dug deeper into my palms, imprinting crescent moons as he left trails of feather-like kisses. He never fully touched my skin, but the graze of his lips was enough to drive me to the brink of insanity.

Was this the torture I was told to beware of?

His lips moved to hover over my ear. “Or, do you just like it when I’m on my knees for you, sweetheart?”

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