Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer Book 1)(31)

With that, he reached around with his other hand and stroked my clit, setting me off like a bomb. I convulsed around him, my knees growing weak, and only his hands holding me kept me upright. I screamed his name as a violent orgasm ripped through me, like nothing I’d ever felt before. My hips bucked back against him, wanting it to never end, while he kept rubbing my clit and filling me up. Only when I felt like I was bursting with pleasure to the point I’d surely die did he let himself go too. I felt it when he came, like a rush of power leaving his body, his wings flaring and his red eyes looking at me in the window’s reflection. Like he was staring right into my soul.

Then he picked me up in his arms, our naked bodies cradled together, and he carried me to his bed. He set me down on it, while I tried to remember how to breathe, and he lowered himself beside me, his wings fading away into the darkness of the room.

I turned to his face and stroked his cheek, with a delirious grin on my face. “And now, sloth.”

“I’m not done with lust just yet,” Lucifer said, as he spread my thighs and ducked his head between them, wringing another orgasm out of me with his tongue and his fingers, making me scream his name again and again.

I had a feeling it was going to be a long night…and I was definitely not complaining.





22





Hannah





My hair tumbled over my left shoulder in shiny blonde ringlets. Damn, it looked good. I sat in a robe, feeling sexy and sultry before the gorgeous gown even went over my head. The matching bra and panty set under the robe did their part as well, the lace detail against my skin reminding me I was wearing bedroom underwear—the kind I wanted Lucifer to see.

I met Zel’s dark eyes in the mirror. “For a badass killer, you do a great job on hair.”

“What, a girl can’t be multi-talented?” Zel tapped me on the nose before going back at it with the wand of black goop. “Hush, or I’ll mess up your mascara.”

This was it. My last night here with Lucifer, appropriately known as Devil’s Night—the night before Halloween. But then what? I was free, I supposed. The devil’s bargain hadn’t extended past seven days. It would be time to head back to Vista and check on my shop. But the thought of leaving made my stomach clench.

“There.” Zel stood back and squinted at me, casting a critical eye over her workmanship. “You’ll do.”

I gazed at myself in the mirror, amazed at how Zel had turned me into some kind of ethereal beauty. But sudden anxiety suffused me. “Will everyone know who I am tonight?”

“Without a doubt.” Zel paused in the act of putting lids back on the makeup we’d used. “Lucifer doesn’t look at other women the way he looks at you.”

The words sent a shiver of pleasure-laced apprehension down my spine as they confirmed what I already knew. What Lucifer had told me. Still, it was nice to hear it from someone else, someone who was a… I paused, considering. Was Zel a friend?

I studied her closely, noting the slightly red skin on her legs, barely visible under her tight leather skirt. She’d mostly healed from the attack, but the traces of it were still there. A reminder that she’d protected my life over and over. “Zel, were we friends in any of my past lives?”

Her movements stopped as she stared off into space. When she finally looked up at me, it was through the mirror, her mouth set in a grim line. “Sometimes, yes.”

“And the other times?” I touched her arm lightly.

Her face became hard as stone. “It’s hard being friends with someone you know is going to die.”

With those words, she walked out of the bathroom, preventing me from asking more. I sighed and stared at myself in the mirror, at the hair and makeup Zel had so carefully done. She must have been close to me in a previous life when I was also human. Compared to demons, our lives are short, our bodies fragile. I could understand why she’d be hesitant to get close to a mortal, only to lose them a few years later.

Did Lucifer worry about that too?

How could I be in a relationship with an immortal, knowing I would grow old and die, while he stayed exactly the same?

I left the bathroom and found Zel sitting on my bed, to my surprise. She was staring at nothing, and I wondered if she was distant with me because she wanted to protect herself against the pain of losing her friend again to the ravages of a mortal life.

She stood as I approached and went to the closet. “Let’s get you dressed.”

I nodded as she helped me step into the gorgeous, shimmering black gown with the crystal stars and moons on it. The fabric fell about me, lying softly over my skin with the lightest of pressure, skimming my curves and making me feel beautiful. When I turned, the cloak flared behind me, like something from a dream.

Zel pulled a matching mask out from behind her back. It was also black and covered in crystals, like a starlit night. As she tied the ribbon and wove it into my long ringlet with her dexterous fingers, I asked one last question.

“Can humans be made into demons? Or Fallen?”

She snorted. “No. Impossible.”

Damn.

She handed me a tiny purse that seemed to be made entirely of sparkling crystals, and turned me toward the door. “Go. Lucifer is waiting and the ball is starting soon.”

I hesitated, overwhelmed at the idea of attending a demon ball. “Will you be there too?”

“Yes. I’ll be guarding you the entire time from the shadows.”

I reached out and rested my hand on her upper arm, giving her a warm smile. “Thank you.”

She shook off my hand, scowling without meeting my eyes. “Just doing my job.”

I stepped out of my room and entered the living room, then paused to take in the man in front of me. Tonight was October 30, known as Devil’s Night, and if any man looked like he deserved an entire night named after them it was him. In his shiny black tuxedo every inch of him radiated power, charm, and dark, dangerous masculinity. He looked like a sexy supervillain that people on the Internet wrote fanfic about. No mask, though. I supposed when the masquerade ball was in your honor, you were the only one who didn’t need a mask.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you.” I did a little twirl, the fabric swishing around me. “You look pretty incredible yourself.”

He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

I walked with him out of the penthouse and into the elevator. Was I ready to face a ballroom full of ancient demons?

No, I really wasn’t. But what choice did I have?

The elevator kept going down, down, down, as if we were descending all the way to Hell. I hadn’t seen which button Lucifer had pressed, but we traveled past the underground parking garage, and when the doors finally opened, an enormous ballroom was revealed in front of us. The room was dark, with only roaming spotlights and bright stars on the ceiling illuminating the room, making it feel like we were outside under the night sky. I glimpsed many people in masks and gorgeous clothes moving about the room, and a large silver throne at the other end, but otherwise much of the room was a mystery to me. Unlike the demons here, I couldn’t see in the dark.

“The Devil’s Night ball is always designed to look like Hell,” Lucifer explained, as he watched me gaze across the room with an expression that probably looked a bit baffled.

“I thought Hell was supposed to be all fire and brimstone.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Only because of angel propaganda. Hell is the realm of night and darkness. It only burned when the angels set fire to our world.”

As we stepped into the room, people started noticing he’d arrived and began to bow. Within seconds, the entire ballroom full of masked demons sank to their knees or bent at the waist, honoring the King of Hell in respectful silence. I tried not to widen my eyes too much behind my mask as we walked toward the throne, but every gaze was on us. On me.

Hundreds of demons, all watching me. They must know I was human, an imposter among them, only here because Lucifer demanded it. Every one of them could probably kill me with the slightest thought.

Lucifer gestured for everyone to rise, and then began pointing out people in the crowd, first nodding toward a woman in a slinky silver dress with shiny, jet black hair. “That’s Belphegor, or Bella, the Archdemon of gargoyles,” he told me in a low voice. “She lives in Paris and oversees much of the European demon affairs.”

The mention of gargoyles made my skin tingle, and I studied her closely, but she kept her head bowed and never met my eyes. With her silver mask on, I couldn’t see much of her face anyway.

Lucifer led me forward still, pointing out more people of note in the crowd. “The man in the red and gold mask is Mammon, Archdemon of the dragons. He lives in China and handles that part of the world for me.”

Mammon was huge and built like a truck, with jet black hair and eyes that I swore were glowing orange. He glared at us as we passed by, and I really would not want to meet him alone in a dark alley. Or any of his other dragons, for that matter. I’d seen enough of those for one lifetime, thank you very much.

“The woman beside him wearing green is Nemesis, Archdemon of the imps,” Lucifer continued.

My jaw dropped at that. Nemesis was a demon? Not some mythological goddess or abstract concept? She had bright red hair and sensual curves, but barely even glanced my way, too busy with a crowd of admirers flocking around her.