Page 66 of Wicked Believer

In the aftermath, you weren’t there,I want to whisper, thinking of all the days that’ve passed since Olivia.You weren’t there for me.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I turn away from him.

But Lucifer snarls, fast and punishing. “You will not turn your back on me. Do I make myself clear?”

I freeze, my breath going shallow before I face him. “Crystal.”

I don’t want to fight with him anymore, but the growing divide between us seems so insurmountable that I can’t begin to see how either of us is ever going to cross it.

Lucifer draws closer to me, prowling like a languid jungle cat until he reaches out and slowly brushes my cheek. The movement is soft at first, tentative, but when I try to turn my head away from him again, he grips the back of my neck, his fingers digging into my skin possessively.

The next thing I know his mouth is on mine, forcing me to kiss him, driving all other thoughts from my head. The feel of his lips is almost too much at first, his touch filled with a hunger that matches my own.

And I can’t stop the relief that fills me.

I missed you,his kiss seems to say.

Followed by,Forgive me?

It’s not an apology. I know better than to expect that. I’m not certain an apology is something he could ever truly mean.

But that he would ask for my forgiveness is the harsh reminder I need.

You’re mine.

Totally. Completely.

A warm tear slides down my face as I soften for him, the need inside me growing until I’m meeting him tongue for tongue, touch fortouch, as desperate for him as he is for me. His mouth on mine hardens, turning into something crueler, more tempting.

The energy between us shifts, growing electric and heavy.

Until neither of us can resist.

It’s not his softness I need right now.

I grip his shoulders, my nails digging in.

Suddenly, his hand dips below my skirt. He shoves the crotch of my panties aside as he probes me, my pussy already damp for him. Like the brokenness in him knows exactly how to heal the brokenness in me.

Love made toxic.

“Ah, I see,” he purrs, stroking down the center of my folds in a way that makes me whimper. “This is why you’ve been so poorly behaved lately, hmm? Being late to dinner. Running from your security team. And now? Turning your back on me. You’ve been begging for it.”

I can hardly think through the haze of desire that grips me, all logic and resistance driven from my head as he strokes me, slow and deliberate. “I ... don’t know what you mean. I—”

But Lucifer simply smirks at me, curling his fingers inside me in a close mimic of that beckoning come-hither gesture that seems to summon all my desire.

I melt into his arms instantly, allowing him to hold me upright as he supports my weight.

“When you cannot ask for what you want, why not misbehave? Right, little dove?” He lays a kiss on my neck, one of his fangs nicking me. “A brat-fueled temper tantrum gets my attention all the same, doesn’t it?”

I shake my head, the admonishment clearing the haze. I want to be a good girl for him. I always do, except when I ...

Deliberately try to drive him mad.

“No, sir. I—”

But the dark look he spears me with silences me, making it clear that he’s read me for filth.