I expect to find my co-star when I finally gather up the nerve to enter the “bedroom” again. Not Lucifer. He stands tall, silhouetted against the backdrop of black sheets like his fallen, angelic namesake. He’s angry. His body ripples with tension, and something in mine tightens in response. When his eyes finally focus on me, I’m unprepared for the venom I find spilling out of them.
“Come here.” He crooks a finger—such an unusual gesture coming from him that I find myself inching forward. His hands are heavy when they fall over my shoulders. He uses the grip to marshal me toward the end of the bed. Then he manually steers me around to face the camera. He makes sure I’m still watching when he crosses over to it and hits a button that I assume turns it on.
“Show us what you’ve got, sweetheart.” His voice is a cold, mocking parody of its usual, emotionless baritone. His eyes are dark coals. There’s no shred of lust in his posture—it’s too tense.
My heart starts to race. My palms are slippery. Words race up my throat, but only a few trickle out. “I thought...you said...”
“Well, I fucking lied,” he snarls, taking a step toward me. I flinch back. His hands are shaped like manacles, and his expression...it’s so much like Vinny’s. I can’t breathe. The room is too small. The floor buckles underneath me, and I somehow wind up perched on the edge of the mattress, clinging to the black sheets for balance.
“N-No...” I don’t know if I’m talking to him or myself. No, you can’t waste this chance. No, it can’t be him. No. No. No.
Lucifer hisses out a laugh and staggers toward the wall. His fist strikes it, once—hard enough to make the entire surface tremble. “The fuck if I even want to.”
Something in his voice shakes me awake from the fear. There’s no lust in it. No desire. No sadistic need to intimidate. He doesn’t want me. Somehow, knowing that fact is enough to give me the strength to stand. My knees tremble. Once again, my body goes against my mind’s conviction. I can do this...
“The...the camera is still on.” My voice scratches at the silence, fighting with the mechanical whirl of the machine in question.
Lucifer stiffens. He flattens his fist against the wall, his shoulders hunched away from me. I have to grit my teeth and fight to maintain my resolve when he finally turns to face me. His eyes are an unsteady shade of indigo. Blue fire—that color at the base of the flame. They watch me coldly while one of his hands drifts down to the buckle of his jeans. “Don’t sound so eager,” he scolds, his voice an acidic taunt. But there’s something inside his gaze so unexpected it makes my heart stop. I’m panting when my pulse catches up again. My eyes blink rapidly, but there’s no mistaking it.
For a minute...I swore his expression almost resembled Olga’s, right before Vinny bent her over on the floor. That same helpless plea. I don’t want this.
“Why...why you?” I ask, and suddenly I don’t know if I’m referring to making the video or...everything. Of all the men, he was the only one who interfered with the red-haired man’s original plan.
Lucifer grits his teeth rather than answering. In an instant, he’s cold and collected again, my angel in the flesh. With one hand, he undoes the fastenings of his pants while the other reaches into his boxers for his cock. He isn’t hard, I see when the boxers finally come down, and he’s fully bare before me.
Even so, his size is impressive. I can’t help but wonder how large he’ll be once fully erect. His hand tightens over the shaft as if he senses my train of thought and doesn’t like one damn bit of it. He eyes the ceiling and strokes himself slowly. Then harder. Faster.
It’s no use. He’s still not aroused despite the friction. He doesn’t want me.
I step forward without thinking, my hand reaching out. “W-What can I do?”
He bites out a growl when I take a step too close. It’s like approaching a caged animal, one that is mortally wounded and doesn’t give a damn whether I’m friend or foe. It’ll chew off its leg rather than admit its own weakness. For so very long I was that animal. I know the bars of that cage well. You will never convince the beast to come out on its own; you can only climb inside.
He flinches when I reach for him again. “T-Tell me what to do—”
“Get the hell away from me.” He continues to stroke himself and then groans when the action fails to produce any results. Those icy blue eyes settle on my cleavage. For nearly a minute he watches me until he finally crooks his finger again, beckoning me closer. “Come here.”
I obey, my heart pounding. My throat’s dry. I don’t know why I choose to sink to my knees, just out of his reach.
Lucifer watches me warily. Then he grounds out a sigh and inches forward. His hands fall down to his sides, and he’s at my mercy.