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Sometimes I feel like I’m Diana’s guardian angel, but maybe more of a reaper. Because after what I heard, I’m ready to collect the soul that dared to hurt the person who means the most to me.
“Dead men don’t rape,”
“And you have it all wrong, sweetheart. If anyone is getting on their knees, it will be Lucifer for me.”
“Eyes are up here, love,” he teases, and I swallow. I’m not going to look at Satan’s dick. I’m not going to look at Satan’s dick.
“You might hate me, but this wet pussy sure as fuck loves being wrapped around my fingers.”
“Give ’em hell, love.”
“You’re doing so well, darling. Look at you swallowing my cock.”
“Seriously. Have you seen how perfect you are when my cum is dripping out of you?”
“I knew you liked the cat.”
“As much as I love this smart mouth, I think I’d like to hear your noises of pleasure while you gagged.”
“You look stunning wrapped up in my leather and shadows, Lilith.”
“Take that as a warning to never disrespect your Queen.”
“Lucifer, what are you doing?” “Worshiping you.” “In front of everyone?” “They need to understand that I bow to you, and they should too,”
