Well, maybe not Auric. I still wanted him--and, lucky me, he hadn"t run away. He slid his sword back in its sheath, then he picked me up in those deliciously muscled arms and carried me back into the apartment. He headed straight into my bedroom with my not-so-impressive bed, and lay me down gently on the covers. I watched him as he pulled off my boots and socks. This tender caring seemed so strange, coming from such a warrior. But I liked it.
“You don"t have to stay,” I repeated again.
Auric just shot me a look and snorted. “If ever there was someone in need of protection, it"s you.” He pulled off his own boots and socks, which I found strangely intimate. Next, his sword sheath came off. He laid it within easy reach, propped against the bed; a bed he still intended to share, apparently. With a lazy smile and a heated gaze that made my mouth dry and my heart patter faster, he popped the top button on his jeans before he lay down beside me on the bed.
The bed dipped under his weight, and I found myself sliding towards him. I could have stopped myself, but I craved the warmth of his body, even as I came to grips with the strangeness of lying in bed with a man. My body ended up tucked against his side, nestled under his arm, which he"d draped above the top of my head across my pillow. This intimate sharing made me tongue-tied and shy, not to mention much too aware of his body.
“What"s it like, being the daughter of the most infamous man in the world?” he asked, breaking the silence.
My laughter came out brittle. I love my dad, don"t get me wrong; but some days, it isn"t easy being Satan"s daughter. “You really want to know?”
Auric turned on his side and faced me. “Tell me.”
So I did.
“I came to live with my dad, in Hell, when I was about five. I don"t really remember anything before that. It"s like my memories were wiped for those years. It wasn"t all bad. My dad set aside a wing in his palace for me. I had a human nanny, hellhounds, lots of siblings, and my dad.”
“He helped raise you?” Auric sounded surprised.
“Of course he did. He spent time with me every single day. My dad might be Satan, but he loves me.” Why that fact seemed to surprise everyone, I didn"t know. Even bad guys could love.
“I"m sorry; I guess I just never pictured Lucifer as being the fatherly type.”
“Well, I didn"t say he did things like normal human fathers did, but he tried his best.”
It made me think about my eighteenth birthday. An age when most parents were teary-eyed over their little girl getting older, and begging her not to grow up so fast.
My dad asked why I was still a virgin.
I told him none of the boys measured up to him, something I laughed about later when he couldn"t see me. But that conversation started the parade of men, in all shapes, sizes, and species, as the king of Hell tried to help me lose what he considered a handicap. My succubi sisters looked at me strangely, too. Sex was just sex, they told me. Who cared if love was involved? I did.
To make Satan happy, for my twentieth birthday, I got a tattoo above my buttocks. Of course, the fact I"d gotten a pink butterfly didn"t impress him, but he seemed pleased that I"d at least made a step in the direction of depravity and corruption.
Auric interrupted my tale. “Show me.”
Lacking inhibitions, I rolled onto my stomach and pulled down my pants, flashing my little butterfly at him.
I trembled when he traced its shape with his finger.
“Nice,” he said, his voice thick.
I wondered if he meant the tattoo, or my ass. I kind of hoped the latter.
Trying to fight the carnal thoughts that continued to plague me, I decided it was time for him to bare all.
I flipped onto my back and found him staring at me intently, like some kind of puzzle he still hadn"t quite figured out. What could I say, I had depth.
“Your turn,” I stated.
“I don"t have any tattoos.”
“Don"t play stupid. What"s your story? What are you?”
“Just a man with a magic sword.”
I didn"t like the way he kept evading my questions, a thought I lost track of when he suddenly rolled on top of me. The full-length contact made me flush with heat, and sent my tummy flip-flopping.
“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound outraged, but instead it came out breathy.
“This.” He dipped his head down and tasted me. Unlike the soft kisses of before, this one had strength in it. He took my lips like he owned them. Tasting and caressing them with his own, „til I moaned in pleasure. My hands twined themselves in his ebony hair as I kissed him back, just as passionately. The soft strands tickled like silk between my fingers. I yanked on two fistfuls and he let go of my lips.