Hell's Bells: Lucifer's Tale (Welcome to Hell Book 6) (11 page)

“I will lie vehemently if asked, but it’s nice to be home.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” She reached around his solid body to cup his ass. She jerked him closer, reveling in the feel of his erection pressing against her, a solid presence even with the layers separating them.

“I wouldn’t call this happy,” Luc replied with a grind of his hip. “Painful. Frustrating. In dire need of care.”

“We can’t have that,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his, not letting him capture them yet loving the tease.

A chuckle and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “You want me to get busy again? From my recollection, you owe me one.”

“One excellent blowjob coming up.” Usually, she would playfully argue about it, a version of foreplay for them. But she was so happy to have Luc back.

Before she could divest him of his pants and drop to her knees, he grabbed her hands and held them tight. “Oh no you don’t, wench. Do you know what tomorrow is?” he asked.

“Call in sick so we can fornicate day?” Lucifer declared those quite often.

“Nope.”

“Bring a minion to work?”

“They already all work for me.”

“Are we having another bacon day? Because, you know, we’ve already had three this past month.”

“It will be four if I have my way. And you are trying my patience, wench, with your deliberate obtuseness. What is tomorrow?”

Surely he wasn’t talking about, “Our wedding?”

“It is indeed our wedding. In less than twenty-four mortal hours, you will belong to me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Are you still planning to go through with it? I’ll admit I kind of figured, now that you were back, you’d find an excuse to cancel it.”

“Never. Tomorrow, I will claim you in the eyes of everyone.”

The ominous sound of it sent a shiver through her. “You say the hottest things,” she purred. She wound herself tighter to him, only to find herself set away.

“Behave, wench. We are not wed yet.”

Blink. “Are you still rejecting me?”

His thumb rubbed across her lower lip. “Never. But I am going to follow one tradition. No sex for you, especially not tonight. Abstinence, dear wench, will make your pussy fonder.”

“I hate you.”

The smile he shot her was a blend of lust and affection that smacked her emotions and wobbled her knees.

“I know.”

C
old feet were expected
, especially from Lucifer. After all, the Lord of Sin getting wed, how perverse and unnatural. He complained loudly to all who would listen.

“I’m supposed to be breaking up marriages, not getting into one.”

Lucifer stomped about with grand theatrics. He, Hi, Ho, hum, where did everyone hide his rum?

A proper diva, he had a fight with the wedding planner. And won. There would be rubber ducks, not fish, in the artificial pond.

All kinds of things he did and said that morning, but as the hours passed, he did nothing to stop the big day. Although he did make quite a few modifications.

During his temporary insanity, he’d done a fair number of things he didn’t approve of. Such as ordering a tuxedo, a white one, with a pink cummerbund, vest, and kerchief.

Fuck no.

A stroke of his hand down the tuxedo took care of color. Black was the only fitting color for a day like today. He also adjusted its fit so that the cut would flatter his current physique. Time enough after the wedding to return to his older, more distinguished appearance.

The shirt he kept snowy white, but only because it highlighted the bowtie he pulled out of hiding. He’d had it specially designed the day after he proposed to Gaia. Then hidden it because she’d threatened to burn anything but a traditional neckpiece.

As if he would ever be completely boring like that. The ghoulish skulls on the tie appealed to him, and he smiled as he adjusted it around his neck.

“No duckies?” Muriel, with a lack of manners he applauded, entered his room without knocking.

“I’m wearing ducks, just not where anyone can see them.”

“I should have known.” Her nose wrinkled as she minced toward him in chunky shoes and a flouncy pink monstrosity with big bows and a giant corsage. “I wish you’d turned back into good daddy in time to change these bridesmaids gowns to something less hideous.” Muriel pinched the fabric with distaste.

It made his next words so utterly delicious. “But I did change the dresses. My alter ego had you wearing something form fitting and elegant. Blech. Couldn’t have that. How else are we to get outrageous images and mocking tweets? I want all of Hell to talk about this day.” Not to mention, he didn’t need the wedding party outshining his grandeur.

“You are the worst daddy ever!” she huffed. Her arms flung around him and dragged him close for a hug. “Love you, Daddy. Glad you’re you again.”

He patted her back. “I’m a little fond of you as well. A little,” he repeated when she hugged him tighter.

“I don’t suppose I can use that fondness against you and have you call off this travesty?”

“I am marrying your mother. Today. So suck it up, princess.”

“Argh. I hate you both,” Muriel screeched as she stomped off.

A bratty, ungrateful wretch. What a perfect gift for him on his wedding day. Lucifer smiled. Protest as Muriel might, he could still see the happiness within her, as well as the reason for her bitchiness. He wondered if her harem knew Muriel now ate for two?

Probably not, given Muriel thought herself barren.
I guess Gaia didn’t tell our daughter she fixed her.
Subterfuge and secrets. How wonderfully evil.

Exiting his room, he ran into Ysabel, looking fetching in a medieval flame-colored gown. Alongside her, Remy looked utterly too dashing in his dress uniform.

I am the star of the day.

What of the bride?
his other half, more like an eighth now, interjected.

The bride belonged to him. And she should have eyes only for him as well.

Lucifer snapped his fingers and changed the color and fit of Remy’s uniform, and all of his other close guard, to something a little more bile green and loose.

While Remy couldn’t prevent a grimace at the change, he didn’t object. “The guests have arrived and are gathered in the grand ballroom.”

“All of them?” he asked with a quirked brow.

“Your son, Chris, and your brother, Elyon, declined to attend.”

Ah yes, his supposed son, who’d renounced his father and his antichrist heritage. He kind of expected that. The boy had issues.

As for Elyon…a stab at his heart made him thump his chest. It did not bother him at all that Elyon wasn’t coming. The goody-two-shoes would have probably sniffed sanctimoniously and ruined a night of debauchery.

“Are the groomsmen assembled?”

An unnecessary question because he strode into the ballroom as he asked. Spanning a few football fields in length, it looked utterly opulent and greenly lush.

It seemed his plans to turn the place into a jungle had worked. Even better, his nice side had approved of his choice made before the fiasco with his heart and had not done anything to ruin it, other than changing the horned duckie ice sculpture to a swan.

As if a swan could inspire terror. That took only a snap of the fingers to correct.

As he took long strides towards the altar—upon which many a sacrifice had bled its last—he noted all the chairs, thousands of them, filled with folk. Deities he’d known growing up. Others who shared a parentage. Minions who cowered under his command. Couples he’d forced into relationships. Results of amorous encounters.

It’s called friends and family. They’re here because they care about you.

He almost gagged.

He also felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Someone fetch me a drink!” He held out his hand, and a passing imp slapped something with crazy-high alcoholic content in it.

Refreshing.

As Lucifer reached the head of the aisle, Neptune, his best man, leaned forward and said, “Dude, run. There’s still time. Don’t do it.”

Poor Neptune. The seagod with a hag for an ex-wife.

“There comes a time in every demon’s life when he has to stop avoiding a fate worse than death and get married. That time is now.”

Now as in this very moment. He could tell because the music abruptly stopped and a hush fell over the grand ballroom.

As overlord of Hell, he should have been above the petty temptation to watch his bride walk down the aisle. He did her a favor by marrying. Yet, that didn’t stop his gaze from straying, and he stopped breathing.

At the far end of the aisle stood his wench. Her gossamer-thin green gown flowed from her, as did her hair. She’d grown it long for the ceremony, Rapunzel long. Flowers weaved its length.

Upon her taking the first step, the music started, a hauntingly beautiful creation unlike anything ever heard. It accompanied her graceful float past the guests, the train of her gown held aloft by little pixies with jewel-colored wings.

A soft spring breeze fluttered through the room, lifting tendrils of her hair, whispering about with promises of new beginnings.

Other grooms might find themselves faint as their future approached on mincing steps. Other grooms might run when faced with a future with one woman.

Lucifer broke tradition and walked toward his bride. Why should she have to come to him alone? This was a journey they should take together.

As he reached her, he halted and held out his hand. There was no need for words.

With a smile she only ever had for him, she wrapped her fingers around his, and to more haunting strains, they made their way to the altar of pledging.

No official presided over their nuptials. There was no higher power great enough to do the job.

They did it themselves.

Facing each other, her eyes a bright grass green, they spoke their vows.

Hers, a poetic promise, “On this day, I join myself to thee, forsaking all others. Binding my fate to yours, no matter what the future brings. Always and forever.”

As for Lucifer, he had no need of flowery speech. He got right to the point. “Ditto. Now does anyone object?”

A hand rose in the crowd, that of the elven queen of the forgotten realm. “I object. The earth mother should not bind herself to evil.”

Without even turning her head, Gaia pointed her finger at the elven queen, shooting forth a bright beam of light. The protesting guest dissolved into glittery dust motes. “Anyone else have a problem?” she asked.

Pure silence.

“By the power vested in me, because I am awesome, I declare this woman mine. Which means”—Lucifer glared at the crowd—“covet, hurt, or even think about her wrong, and you will die.”

The declaration was met with whistles and cheers, even a standing ovation as everyone rose to their feet. Frenzied clapping accompanied a chant of, “Kiss the bride. Kiss the bride.”

Hell yeah. Yanking her hard against his chest, Lucifer took a moment to reward Gaia with a leering smile. Then he dipped her low before claiming her mouth in a kiss to put all other kisses to shame.

In that moment, he laid his claim to her. Sealed her with his mark. And she claimed him right back, the passion in her embrace enough to make even this old demon’s knees weak.

When they finally parted for breath, the cheers almost brought down the centuries-old ceiling. As it was, a few stone blocks flattened some unlucky guests, but that didn’t put a damper on the festivities.

The band struck up a song, and his impish staff milled among the guests, bringing out the tables for dinner, rearranging seats, setting out more food and snacks.

But Lucifer wasn’t staying for the reception. His blue balls were too painful for that.

Tossing his new bride over his shoulder, he made his way across the vast ballroom, scowling at the repeated well-wishes.

Gaia, on the other hand, took great delight in their rude departure. She waved and giggled at the more ribald suggestions.

As if Lucifer needed any pointers when it came to what he should do in the bedroom. He wrote the book. Made the movie. Invented all the moves.

Everyone else now merely imitated.

And palely at that.

Once they hit the hall, Lucifer quickened his pace.

“In a hurry?” teased Gaia.

“Don’t mock me, wench. I have needs.”

“Then why are you taking so long?” she growled. With a snap of her fingers, they went from hall to bedroom.

Whereupon she flipped off his shoulder and slammed him against the wall.

“Ooh, getting rough.” He leered. “I like it.”

“Get naked,” she growled. “But leave the tie on.”

“Kinky too. Even better.” It took him but a snap of his fingers to divest himself of his garments. Why waste time undressing when he could watch Gaia slipping out of her wedding dress? It fell in a silken pool of fabric at her feet, leaving her naked.

Gloriously naked. And attacking him.

His very naked wife threw herself at him, her lithe limbs wrapping around his hips while her lips latched onto his with a voracious hunger.

He fisted her hair in his hands, just as eager as her. Maybe more so. Arousal controlled his every thought. He was a male after all.

And as the man in this marriage, he rolled them until her back pressed against the wall. He freed one hand and used it to delve between her thighs. His finger slid across the moist flesh of her sex.

Wet. Hot. The more he touched, the more Gaia moaned.

No demon could resist. He thrust a finger into her. Then another. Her hips undulated against them, sucking at them tight.

As he finger fucked her, he parted her lips that he might invade her mouth with his tongue. He wanted to leave no part of her untouched.

With his thumb, he rubbed her swollen button. He thrust faster into her sex, feeling her mounting excitement in the way her hips rolled with his movements and her breath turned into pants.

He could have brought her to the edge of bliss, then and there, with his fingers. But he was a selfish devil. He wanted her to come on his cock.

The tip of him pressed against her sex, thick and hard. He might have taken a moment to tease them both, yet her limbs cinched tightly around him, drawing him close, driving him in.

The width of his shaft stretched her. Filled her tight. As he thrust into her velvety sheath, he kissed her, kissed the lips that belonged to him.

Kiss the chin he owned.

Kissed the ears he claimed.

And when they came, she took whatever he had that passed for a soul.

Their climax brought them to a place out of time and body, a place where their spirits could twine, forever one.

Given his man card probably wondered if he’d need another intervention, he didn’t say anything too stupid or sappy, just held Gaia close, but that was acceptable, given they were both naked.

The wall, however, proved uncomfortable. A quick levitation was all it took to land them in bed, a much softer spot.

As their sweaty limbs cooled, her head rested on his chest, where the steady thump of his heart caused her to lift her head and regard him with a frown. “So when are you going to conduct the ritual to rip it out?” she asked.

Such a bloodthirsty request, and on their wedding night. She knew how to spoil him. “I don’t know if I’m going to do that. I’m thinking maybe I’ll just leave it where it is.”

The shock of his words had her scrambling to an upright position so she could gape at him. “Keep it? Why would you do that? You know wearing it in your body makes you vulnerable.”

“It does, and yet…” He pressed his hand against the skin just under her ribcage. “I see you also have yours close by once again. Why did you do it?” He’d noticed, despite all the layers of spells she’d laid upon her heart.

Head drooped, she replied. “I got it back during that fiasco with Lilith. She came too close to finding it. I figured it was better off with me. And then”—she fingered the fabric of the comforter they lay on—“I didn’t want to put it back. I didn’t realize how much I wasn’t feeling until it was a part of me again.”

“Bingo. Give my wench a prize. Too late, you already got one. Me!”

“Wait a second.” Her gaze rose to meet his as her brow knit into a frown. “I just admitted I kept it so I could feel. What’s your excuse?”

He flipped her onto her back and crawled over her body until he hovered over her. His eyes glowed with a reddish fire. “I might be a bad fucking bastard.”