Embrace Of The Lucifer

Lucifer had lost all trust in her following her deception from the previous day. Her wrists and legs were shackled so she couldn't move them even a fraction. She lied on the comfortable bed with a blanket on top of her and her sore eyes sealed on the ceiling. It looked like she did not have anything else to look at. She attempted to free herself from the shackles that bound her arms and legs, but it only resulted in more agony. Her hands were completely immobile because of the excruciating agony.

Lucifer was seated on a leather chair next to the bed in the demon's lair. He was dressed in his typical cold exposure and had a cigarette between his index and middle fingers. His gaze was fixed on August, who gave him a response of his stare. He placed the poison rolled in paper in between his bottom and upper lips and took a long puff for the last time as the cigarette reached its end. As he exhaled the poisonous gas, it filled the room with a thick, smoky stench.

He stood up and sat beside her, his hands caressed and skimmed every inch of her flesh as he rubbed them against her warm and soft cheeks.

August's body was becoming warmer as the rising temperature caused by her anxiety and dread increased. Although her facial expression did not convey fear or anxiety, her heart was pounding rapidly and her breathing was becoming increasingly labored as time passed.

She did miss human contact after lying on the bed for a few hours or let's say a few days. It seemed as though she was at ease when Lucifer's rough fingers caressed her face. Did she enjoy it? Even though she could never appreciate the touch of her tormentor, loneliness had made her want for the warmth of human touch, until it was replaced with something cold and harsh. She glanced at him, terrified of what might happen to her.

He was holding a kitchen knife to her cheeks and dragging it down to her collar bones. Her breath came to a halt in her throat, and she let out a hoarse gasp.

She stared at him again, her lips trembling from the terror and anguish he induced by running the tip of the knife over her lips and drawing blood.

A split second later, a considerable amount of blood was gushing from her lips, staining her white mid-knee dress. She saw Lucifer's horrifying and dreadful wicked smile as if he was enjoying seeing her blood oozing out of her, but she also saw something else in his eyes.

Lust.

She closed her eyes and prayed silently that he would not do what she was thinking he might. Despite the excruciating agony on her lips, Lucifer did nothing to ease it. Her struggle was all he could focus on while he sat there. When he pulled the cover from her, his eyes darkened; the mid-knee dress had ridden above her knees, exposing her creamy soft thighs, yet he felt a strong attraction to her after seeing her blood-stained chest and gushing lips.

August felt him grasping her thighs, she hissed in pain. But she didn't move. It was happening, the thing she feared the most, but she told herself not to move no matter what he does. Lucifer was intrigued. It had taken him almost a year to reach that point, the point where he could finally feel himself in her. She was bound to the bed, and he seized her by the wrists and put the knife on the bedstand, capturing her lips in his own. When he noticed the thin material, she was wearing, he tore it in one go with his hands. Her lips parted in a horrified gasp when she realized what he'd done. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath her dress; all she had on was a white, thin panty to hide what little dignity she still had left. Although she wanted to cover herself with a blanket, or at least her hands, she couldn't due to her hands being tied, so she opted not to make any moves while she was lying there.

His hands were resting on her bare stomach, clutching her soft skin tightly which left some ugly bruises on her stomach and waist.

focus was diverted by the overwhelming pleasure he was experiencing from her. He was enamored with her and wanted more of her. He longed to feel her hands on his back when he would finally push himself in her. She was pure and untouched. But that was what made him want her even more. He treasured her purity, and he would not allow

it, kissing the

eyes. When he moved her hand all over his body, letting out a low grunt, she

down to her, his lips inches from hers. Lucifer ascertained her emerald green eyes, his arctic ones melting under hers. When he switched his gaze back on her, the tingling sensation surged throughout her body. August kept her eyes closed and attempted to resist his kiss; only to have utterly failed. Lowering himself on her, his lips brushed against her lower lip, and she

quivered, and the sensation of her body under him as his arms curled around her in a whirlwind of sexual tension seemed to be unbearable. He pulled her in, reclaiming her mouth, ravenous and fierce. He was staring

seemed to have come to a halt. It was incredible. Magical. It was as if a single kiss had sucked the

true touch and kiss. That was something else altogether. She never discovered how different Lucifer's kiss might feel if he were ever gentle with her. His kiss was full of

gasps escaped her lips every time Lucifer broke the kiss, only to capture her lower lip with his teeth and gently bite it. As he ravished her

happening to

August questioned herself.

kiss. Perhaps because that was the

Lost. Frightened. Stunned. Damaged.

had previously been gentle with her, but nothing could compare to the tenderness of this kiss. He wished to call her by name. He demanded that she say his name. He wanted her to feel

Pleasure.

he in love with a maid? His questions perplexed his thoughts, but his consciousness had not yet returned to allow him to break through the session and ponder about it. He never imagined he'd be able to love someone, let alone

he didn't notice the oozing blood gliding down his back, soaking his white shirt. Warmblood pouring from the joint of his shoulder and arm, splattering all over his clothing and

had been looking at not long ago. Now, he feels. Now, he knows. What it's like to look at a blank slate. What it's like to

he saw her depart. When he saw her sprint to the door, attempting to unlock it. He noticed her little figure, terrified and trembling from the dread and cold of the night. When the lock failed to open, he faintly heard her

time, and then she was gone as if her arrival had been a brief presence, and

the bed, pressing more onto it. A faint smile