Page 135 of Wicked Believer

Like hope.

When Lucifer finally releases me, my lips are swollen pink and my position in his lap has changed so that I’m now straddling him, rocking my hips against his growing erection greedily.

He grips my ass with both hands, guiding me. “Shall we resume our roles, my love?”

“Yes.”

I open his fly, and we both let out a shared groan as he lifts me up and I slide down, fully seating myself on his length.

“Tonight, I want you to make me forget.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Charlotte

I wake extra early for Azrael’s training session the following morning, before Mia and her tablet can creep up on me. “Brat taming and apocalypse training day two,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as I strap on my collar. “Let the fun begin.”

When I enter the training room, Azrael is already there waiting for me.

Our eyes lock on one another knowingly.

“You didn’t tell him,” I whisper.

It comes out faster than I’d planned.

He shrugs. “I didn’t see the need.”

“Why?”

He quirks a brow at me. “Did youwantme to tell him?”

I contemplate my answer for a long beat before finally I shake my head. “No.”

Already, I feel ashamed, regretful even.

“Then why?” he asks in return.

I know almost instinctually what he means.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Why does anybody?” I shrug. “I guess because I’m weak.”

Azrael watches me curiously, like he’s considering what he says next. “In my experience, it’s more often because fate has forced someone to remain strong for too long.”

I drop my head, my mouth dry, hesitating. Slowly I step toward him. “Isn’t that your job? To teach me how to be strong?”

“No.” He stares out the window, closing his eyes and inhaling, before he casts a wistful look at me. “My job is to teach you how to protect yourself so that you no longer have to be.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Charlotte

The rest of the day flies by. If Azrael’s idea of a warm-up—a five-mile run on the treadmill that has me huffing and puffing until I’m beet red in the face—followed by a ridiculous amount of core and strength training wasn’t enough to break me (Exactlyhowdid he expect me to focus on my form after stripping his shirt off mid-workout?), then my session with Greed definitely would be. For every taunting jab from Azrael, Greed does me one better.

“Get angry, Charlotte.”

“I’m trying!” I snap, though she’s the only one I cangetangry with, currently.

No matter what I do, I can’t access the furious thing that’d been prowling around inside me until Azrael showed up. It’s like my body wasn’t the only thing that plummeted toward the city’s concrete.