30 Mutually Assured Seduction

Lily

Lily laughed over a drink that looked like liquid sunshine, the alcohol a warm simmer in her veins. She refused to look over to the guys’ table, waiting for the almost tangible sensation of Bel’s gaze to land on her again.

Luckyleaf had already been a hotbed of chaos when they arrived, with one half of the crowd shooting coy glances at their partners or ignoring them completely. The other half of the population seemed to have put in an effort to seduce as well, so it was to be a battle of wills.

Lily felt like she was floating, buoyed by the confidence and support of the fierce people around her. In the mortal world, she never would have dared go out baring so much skin, but in the safety of the Afterlife, she could have strolled down the Hall naked and not even been touched.

She’d seen Bel a moment after he’d seen her, just in time to watch him trail off mid-sentence to an equally stunned Asmodeus, whose eyes were locked on his wife. It had required effort to not pause in her tracks and stare, but she’d kept her wickedly high stilettos in motion.

Bel had cleaned up, and cleaned up good . His hair was smooth and braided back from his temples, cascading past his shoulders in a glossy curtain. In unrelieved black, he cut a sleekly intimidating figure. His pants were just slightly snug over his powerful legs and thighs, and a sleeveless tunic embroidered in faintly glittering designs hugged his powerful frame, leaving his thick arms bare. And damn . She wanted to sink her teeth into those biceps.

Just as his expression had gone from stunned to dark and hungry, she smirked at him, then turned to laugh at something someone had said that she hadn’t actually heard. She’d thrown one more glance at him over her bare shoulder, slickness already gathering between her thighs.

A slickness that, an hour later, had only gotten worse.

Sariah fluffed her curly, shoulder-length charcoal hair and reached for her nonalcoholic drink, saying to the slight Fae woman at their table, “If I weren’t already pregnant, the look he just gave you would have knocked me up just by sitting so close to you.”

The Fae woman blushed, her gemlike skin glittering from within.

“How come you aren’t tits in the breeze like the rest of us?” Muriel, a succubus with dark orange skin asked, her green eyes bright and drunk.

“Speak for yourself, Muri,” Angel drawled, throwing back her drink. While there was an ample amount of cleavage on display at their table alone, Muriel had sauntered into the bar completely naked and covered in body glitter, except for a sparkly thong that nearly matched her skin tone perfectly. One of the servers had nearly dropped their tray.

Sariah’s charcoal dress complemented her terracotta-red skin and might have been modest except for the truly magnificent amount of cleavage it displayed. It was otherwise innocent enough, draping over her baby bump and swirling around her knees, but all of them had noticed exactly how ravenous Asmodeus had been before his friends dragged him to their table.

“I’m putting in just as much work as all of you,” Sariah said primly, golden eyes sparkling. “I’m simply using different methods.”

“Explain.” Persephone hiccupped.

“Azzy has a raging breeding kink. I am his wife, who is very obviously pregnant with his child, emphasized by the dress, and,” Sariah said as if the final point was perhaps the most important, “I’m wearing an easily flip-up-able skirt. I’m also ignoring him. He’s foaming at the mouth. Which is excellent news for me, because that means all I’ll have to do is hold on for the ride later. Ladies”—she raised her glass in a toast—“to using our wiles.”

Bel

“Ten more seconds,” Lucifer said, “then it’s Bel’s turn.”

“There’s no way that was a minute,” the man said, staring at his partner as if she were about to disappear.

Bel stared at the barely touched tray of food. He could smell the amount of sexual frustration at the table. But maybe that was just how Luckyleaf smelled, given the bevy of partners lusting after each other in public.

“If this turns into an orgy like last time, I’m going home and taking my actually useful contributions with me,” Greg said, reaching for more nachos. It was true, he’d been one of the functional members of their team, while Bel had…not.

He’d only gotten to look at her four times since they set up their system. Operation: Don’t Look Desperate involved a rotating schedule of getting to look at their partners for a minute each, in order to avoid being distracted and useless.

It had somewhat failed in its objective.

He’d barely believed his eyes when she’d entered the pub. The details were hazy, but her smoky makeup made her eyes even more mesmerizing and seductive than usual. Her long, thick hair had been pulled up into an effortlessly regal twist with a few loose, curled strands, baring her slender neck and drawing attention to the wet dream of a dress she wore.

He wasn’t sure that what she had on could legally be called a dress , but he planned on finding its creator and offering them anything and everything they wanted out of gratitude.

Black silk poured over her body, the low cowl of the neck teasing at the upper slopes of her breasts, the delicate fabric doing nothing to hide the way her nipples had hardened under his gaze. It skimmed over her body, hugging just enough at her hips to make his hands twitch, before the hysterically short hem revealed the tattoos on her thigh, little slits on either side teasing him with hints of more skin. He wanted to wrap her long, bare legs around his hips—and that was before he saw the fuck-me heels that he immediately wanted her to press into his ass while he pounded into her.

“And time. Bel, your turn,” Lucifer said, seemingly unruffled by it all.

Bel leaned over the table as if that small distance would ease the ache of not having her near, eyes locking on her.

The pressure at his groin verged on unbearable, and the glimpse of the back of her dress did absolutely nothing to help. Completely open, save for the tiniest strings for straps crossing over her upper back, it dropped down so low that he wondered whether if she moved just slightly he would see the cleft of her ass. A delicately wrought sword, twined with flowers and curls of filigree, was tattooed down her spine, framed perfectly by the drape of her dress. He wanted to trace it with his tongue.

Sure, their relationship was based on friendship and mutual respect, but there was a fucking lot of attraction there as well, and he was struggling. Not with control—he’d never do anything without her enthusiastic permission—but with the urge to beg, something he’d never done in his long life.

Beg her to stay. Beg to fuck her. Beg her to stay while he fucked her. Beg her to read to him in her lovely voice. Beg her to love him. Beg her to smile at him, just one more time. Always one more time. He’d better be the one doing the begging, because if she ever begged him, he’d lose his fucking mind .

As if on cue, she turned to look at him, sipping her drink as if she had no idea how close he was to coming in his pants like a teenager. Without breaking eye contact, she caught a drip sliding down the side of her glass with her tongue. Bel clenched his hands so hard the bones creaked.

Little vixen.

She knew it too. The little smile that played on her lips had his heart pounding. The lipstick she wore was only a few shades darker than her natural lip color, accentuating her smirk perfectly.

She arched an eyebrow.

Let’s play, princess.

He arched his eyebrow right back and took his sweet time running his gaze down every inch of her body, catching the little hitch in her breath, the barest shifting of her thighs on her seat. When he met her eyes again, the mischief had been replaced with a heated, almost desperate expression that he understood intimately.

She set her glass down on the table and stood, the muscles in her legs and back flexing. Everything in him went still.

When she shot him another mischievous gaze, stuck out her tongue, and sauntered towards the bathrooms, he followed her without hesitation.

Lily

Lily had never had so much fun in her entire life. Sure, she was so horny she could barely form a coherent thought, but oh, it had been so worth it. Bel looked like every dark fantasy she’d ever had, the sweet, funny side of him replaced with something deliciously primal.

The hallway she’d been directed to had individual bathrooms on either side, and the line for them was surprisingly short. She didn’t have those needs anymore, but she’d needed to leave the table before she orgasmed in public, figuring that she could hide in the bathroom until she’d composed herself. A woman in a tie-dye dress hurried out of a door, and Lily headed for it.

Just as she reached for the handle, she felt it. Felt him . He pressed up against her back, opened the door himself and guided her forward with his body.

He locked the door behind them with a click that she felt down to her toes.

She’d been close to him before, so why was she suddenly realizing how much bigger than her he was? She’d never felt particularly delicate or feminine, but in that moment, she understood all her short friends and how they’d talked about their much taller partners. Protected. Dainty.

In the dim recesses of her mind, she almost laughed at that. She’d beaten a rapist into a bloody pulp with a bat the day before, then broken the jaw of a millionaire pedophile with a well-placed kick once she’d gotten him onto the ground, and here she was feeling dainty .

“Princess,” Bel growled.

She closed her eyes and shivered. His voice was deeper than she’d ever heard it, rumbling against her back and humming through her oversensitive body. His hands came to rest at her hips, claws pricking deliciously through the fabric.

“You’ve been playing games with me.”

“Am I winning?” She aimed for cocky and ended up breathless. Gods, she could feel every inch of him, the hard bulge of his cock against her lower back had her leaning against him, covering his hands with her own. His heart beat a tattoo in his chest, and if she’d had a heartbeat, it would be racing.

He skimmed his nose up the side of her neck. She arched for him, gasping when he nipped at her earlobe and pressed her forward until she bumped against the vanity. Her eyes flew open, meeting his heated gaze in the mirror.

Fuck.

She’d always been visual, always liked to watch almost as much as she liked auditory stimulation. They painted a heady picture in the mirror—Bel looming behind her, every inch the demon with his arching horns, claw-tipped wings, and unearthly eyes, and her, looking like a heathen princess in her flimsy black dress and dark eye makeup, tattoos scattered over her skin. Their hands together at her hips were a study in contrasts. Rugged and feminine, dusky purple and fair, tipped with black claws and nails painted gunmetal gray.

His little finger trailed down the side of her skirt to trace the skin just below the hem. All of her attention zeroed in on that little touch. His other hand slipped out from under hers and ran up her body, grazing over a breast that felt heavy and hypersensitive, coming to rest around her neck, tilting her head back slightly.

The subtle scrape of claws had her reaching back with her now-free hand to grab at his thigh with what was dangerously close to a whimper.

She’d never whimpered in sexual abandon in her life. Any of her lives.

“Are you?” he asked, his breath fanning over her shoulder as he nipped at the whisper of a strap that held her dress up.

About to orgasm harder than I ever thought possible?

Yes.

“Am I what?” she breathed, having entirely lost the thread of conversation as she watched him move in the mirror, drunk on the sensation of his body around hers.

“Winning,” he murmured.

“I don’t care,” she panted, arching her back to rub against that bulge. He groaned and pressed himself into her, grip tightening on her hip and tugging her dress up to nearly reveal her wicked little secret.

“You’ve been teasing me,” he said, running his thumb up the side of her neck.

She managed to smile at that. “Only because you’re so easy to tease.”

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder, scraping his fangs ever so slightly and smiling at her reaction.

“Shall I return the favor, princess? Hm?”

Oh please, return the favor. Please return the fucking favor. Pull my dress up a little more.

“Please,” she gasped, pulling him towards her, digging her nails into his thigh.

His wicked grin dropped, and the lines of his face tightened in delicious hunger. “Fuck.”

Then he dropped his eyes to where his fingers were so, so close to where she most wanted him. Lily followed his gaze and blushed. Her arousal gleamed visibly on the inside of her thighs. Bel, the asshole, leisurely slid his hand to trace over it, inching higher, higher , the tension in his body ratcheting tighter behind her as he went.

“Bel,” she murmured just as he brushed against her for the first time.

They groaned together, and Bel pressed his cheek against her temple, his breathing ragged.

“Nothing?”

“Surprise,” she managed. “Claws?”

He flexed his hand to show her that his claws had blunted themselves, like they’d retracted, then cupped her fully and began to explore. Brushing, teasing . Lily let her head fall back, and her eyes slide shut, overwhelmed. The murmur of the crowd in the bar faded away. All she could hear were their ragged breaths, the slick sounds his fingers made as they moved against her. All she could feel was him, his wicked fingers, his massive hand collaring her neck, her back molded to every inch of his front.

Never end. She wanted it to never end.

The Universe had gotten it wrong. This was her real Paradise—

Bel sank a finger into her, and she arched her spine, panting, beyond words as he filled her, pumping once, twice, the heat of his palm cupping her entire sex, his thumb moving, seeking, brushing just there—

She keened, gripping his forearm to keep him there, possibly forever. He smiled against her hair.

“So responsive, princess. Look at me.”

The hand at her neck cradled her jaw, tugging her head down. She opened her eyes and panted, watching him, watching them in the mirror.

“Watch me when I’m inside you. I want to see your pretty eyes when I…”

He added another finger, stretching, filling her more than she’d thought possible. She wanted to close her eyes, to drown in sensation alone, but she watched that hand move between her thighs, pumping, his thumb flicking her clit too fucking tenderly, she needed to come now .

“So impatient. Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined when you put this little dress on with nothing underneath it ? All for me?”

“Yes,” she nearly sobbed, releasing his forearm to reach up and grip the side of his neck, fingers tangling in his loose hair. “I just…”

He pumped hard and she momentarily forgot how to speak.

“I just…wanted to return the favor…for the training fields.”

He paused and she almost killed him.

“Training fields?” He raised his head slightly to meet her eyes, brows furrowed.

She pulled on the hair in her grip. He pulled her tighter against him.

“When you wiped…your face with your shirt. I wanted to fuck you. Wanted you to fuck me…I’ve been suffering ever since.”

“Probably about worn that vibrator out, huh?”

“You’re entirely too smug about this—” Her scowl evaporated when he twisted his fingers deep.

“Let me apologize, princess.” He traced the shell of her ear with his lips, hand going back to work.

Pleasure surged, winding tighter and tighter, building like a wave, more powerful than anything she’d ever felt before, almost terrifying in its intensity. But she had Bel. Bel wouldn’t let her fall, or melt, or whateverthefuck was about to happen.

He seemed to sense her approaching climax, maintaining the steady pace, the deep pumps of his thick fingers, the gentle rub of her clit.

Lily would feel bad for the way she dug her manicured nails into him later. Feel bad for ripping at his hair, for probably clawing a hole in the side of his pants where she gripped his thigh. None of that mattered in that moment.

He twisted her head to the side and captured her lips with his own, finally , tongue tracing, asking. She opened for him just as his wicked, skillful hand sent her hurtling over the edge. Lights exploded behind her eyelids.

He muffled her cry with his mouth, swallowing it down, stroking her through wave after wave of bone-melting pleasure until she was sobbing, breaking away to gasp and plead for mercy. He stilled his hand and simply held her against him, face buried in her hair, panting, shaking with repressed energy and strength. Lily loosened her fingers, clumsily petting over his hair and neck with a shaky hand.

Her understanding of pleasure had been blown away.

A few long minutes later, Bel lifted his head and slowly pulled his hand away. She whined at the emptiness as his fingers left her, as the heat of his palm faded and the cool air rushed in. Bel raised his hand in front of them, fingers and palm gleaming with her wetness, then, holding her eyes in the mirror, sucked his fingers clean.

Lily twisted in his hold as he lowered his hand, taking his face in her hands and doing her level best to kiss him as senseless as he’d made her. The taste of herself on his lips was heady, powerfully erotic in a way that had her reaching for the waistband of his pants. She couldn’t wait to return the favor, had dreamed about him on her tongue for days—

He caught her hand with a dazed grin. “I don’t think so. This was about you, princess. For you.”

“Can I make a royal request?”

He laughed, but it was strained. She could feel how hard he was, she wanted it, wanted him.

“Not here, princess. I don’t want you on your knees in some bathroom.” He kissed her long and deep, mollifying her slightly.

Only slightly.

She still wanted him. Wondered if she’d always want him, want more of him. She waited for the panic at that thought to wash in, but it didn’t. She felt…settled. Right. Still horny, but right.

She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest, mesmerized by his thundering heart while he held her close, resting his chin on top of her head, careful of the little spikes. They stood there for a long time, listening to the moderators ask unintelligible trivia questions over the microphone, until they’d both calmed.

She propped her chin on his chest, gazing up at him. “We’re going to catch a lot of shit for this, aren’t we?”

“Without a doubt,” he said, kissing her nose, before he stopped dead, realization spreading over his face. He threw his head back with a groan. “Ah damn. I just lost one of my couches to Greg.”

“Really? Which one?” Lily asked, straightening up a bit. Not the one by his desk, not the one by his desk…

“The one by the wall.” He sighed, looking back down at her.

“Oh. Worth it, I’d say. I like the one by your desk.”

“Totally worth it,” he agreed, hugging her a little tighter.