Touching his mouth to hers, Lucifer sank into the downy welcome of her upper lip, mapping its hills and dales with testing kisses.
Her hand found his chest, and she snagged the front of his robes to pull him closer.
Lucifer smiled and moved down to her lower lip, taking his time and sampling its juicy bounty.
The softest of sighs ghosted over his mouth, and Lucifer slid his fingers into the wispy hair at the nape of her neck.
When her head was cradled in his hands, she moaned and, with no warning, swiped her tongue along the seam of his lips as if she were delicately licking an envelope.
Growling low in his throat, Lucifer countered her brazen teasing by sneaking inside and seeking out that devilish little instigator.
Hermione whimpered and gripped his robes tighter, her body melting against his.
Lucifer had to concur. His mind was blown, drunk on the mesmeric swirl of her tongue, and his body had gone completely haywire, unable to decide between teeth-chattering chills of excitement or the stomach-flipping heat of contentment.
The door dinged and slid open, startling them from their snogging.
Lucifer pulled back, and her dilated eyes met his with such a scorching intensity that his heart stopped for a second before restarting at a frantic sprint.
Cupping the side of her face, he caught his breath and kissed her forehead.
"I have so much in store for you tonight. Is my cum queen ready to rule?"
Her exhale rattled loose, and he felt its stuttery draught skim his chin and slip down his collar. "Yes, sir."
He smirked. She'd forgotten to call him Lucifer again, but he liked this sexually dazed side of her that was hungry for ravishment.
"Then let's get you out of those pretty robes. I've been shagging you naked with my eyes all the drive here."
"That's fair . . . considering I've been humping on my seat, by imagining riding your face the entire journey."
Lucifer chuckled and took her hand, escorting her from the lift. "A girl after my own heart. I hope you like the room. I know you visited Paris before, so just wanted to have a good view."
They walked to the end of the hall, and Lucifer pulled out the key.
The brass had only one tooth, but that was just for show; the locks didn't function with tumblers.
The key knew the password to break the wards and would only whisper it to the door when inserted in the lock.
Lucifer wondered if Hermione's pussy worked with similar magic.
Would the correct whispered phrase open the vaginal floodgates?
Turning the knob, he opened the door and ushered her inside. The room had been prepared per his instructions, and a multitude of candles made the walls flicker and glow with dancing light.
Hermione froze when she saw the floor-to-ceiling windows, their reflective surface doubling the size of the room and bombarding her with both the grandeur of the accommodations and vast expanse of the city.
Moving into the center of the floor, she spun in a slow circle, taking in the surroundings with stark wonder. "Lucifer, this is . . ."
Lavish. Staging has always been one of his greatest strengths, and he intended to make a good impression.
The bed was huge.
Not as big as his own bed, its more than enough.
Red rose petals had been strewn over the plush white coverlet, and they stood out in sharp contrast, like crimson leaves on new-fallen snow.
Lucifer slipped off his robes and laid them across the plush armchair to his right, then slowly approached her, smiling slyly as he began to unbutton his waistcoat.
When he was directly in front of her, he snaked one hand around to her lower back and pulled her against his body. "A room fit for a queen."
"This is beautiful, Lucifer. Did you have all this set up?"
He nodded and caressed the curve of her waist. "Of course."
"You didn't have to do all this," Hermione said, absently gesturing with one hand, but not taking her eyes off his. "I don't need suites and rose petals—I was ready to shag you in the lift."
He laughed and bent down to touch his lips to hers. "I don't usually shag in lifts. The setting must measure up to my exacting specifications. And I know you don't need this, but . . . I prefer to surround myself with beauty. It's the same reason I don't eat off paper plates. Presentation makes for more pleasure."
Her hand ran up the front of his dress shirt, and she traced one button with the edge of her nail. "I see what you mean."
Spanning both hands over her lower back, Lucifer drew her hips to his, making sure she felt the stiff weight of his growing arousal.
"Tell me what you want tonight," he whispered. "What has my naughty little masturbating girl been thinking about this whole day?"
Her cheeks pinked, and she panted against his lips, her breath warm, sweet as chocolate covered oranges. "I've been thinking about how you fucked me on the patio."
"Have you?" Lucifer purred with a grin. "What excited you most?"
While she debated her answer, he started on dessert, nuzzling his nose along the side of her cheek, inhaling her scent as he traversed the line of her jaw.
She smelled vaguely of brown sugar, and his mouth began to water as if he were starving.
His tongue flickered out, circling her ear and then dipping down to the sultry stretch of her neck.
"Um . . . I guess . . . the way you fucked me against the wall . . . and being—ah!—outside."
Each word buzzed against his lips, and that nip had earned him a knee-quaking shudder. "Even though we were alone, you thought you might be seen out there, didn't you?"
Clutching his shoulder, Hermione whimpered. "Yes."
Lucifer knew exactly what that meant. "Then I think it's time for you to go look out the window."
"What?" she asked, completely baffled. "Look at what out the window?"
"I assume the city," he replied and, grabbing her by the hips, spun her around for a little sightseeing.
When he had her standing before the plate glass window, Lucifer wrapped one arm around her waist and studied the twinkling lights over her shoulder. "Lovely, isn't it?"
"Yes." Her hand slithered back between them in search of his crotch.
Catching her by the wrist, Lucifer gently wrestled her hand away from his trousers and pinned it to her front.
His mouth brushed the edge of her ear, and he kissed the soft skin of her temple. "I know what would make the view even lovelier."
She moaned and leaned into him, her bum grinding along his length.
'Soon, little princess. All in good time.'
With one hand, he unzipped her robes and drew down the top until it fell to the floor.
He looked in the window as her mouth fell open in a silent gasp.
Hermione was the epitome of passion; the anticipation smoldered in her eyes like lit coals.
As lightly as possible, Lucifer trailed his fingers over her naked stomach and ventured south to the V between her legs.
She'd forgone knickers yet again, and while he applauded the easy access, he missed the fun of panty removal.
He'd rectify that in the future.
"Now the whole city can see how lovely you are," Lucifer whispered in her ear. "Step closer to the window and spread your legs."
"What if someone sees?!"
"Then they'll send you fan mail. Feet apart."
She stepped out of her dress, and Lucifer knelt down to pick it up for her, tossing it into the chair with his own robes.
With a breezy twist, their clothing settled together, interlocked, foreshadowing what was to come.
His hand followed the curve of her hip as he rose, and when he reached her waist, detoured around to the front to finger the breadth of her rib cage . . . tickling the groove that divided torso from breast.
His other hand traveled the line of her spine, slipping beneath the catch of her bra.
He had it open quickly, no magic required, and with his other hand, Lucifer drew it low, until the straps tumbled down her arms.
She let him pull it off, and he got a glimpse of her pert nipples speckled in the twinkling lights of Paris; but before he had time to really appreciate the spectacular lighting effects, Hermione covered her chest with one arm as if she were embarrassed.
Oh, he couldn't have that.
"Hands on the window," he rumbled. "Keep them there."
There was only a slight hesitation, but then she flattened her palms to the glass as if begging him to frisk her.
Lucifer bit his lips to keep from laughing, but his wayward libido insisted he pat her down for contraband.
A cavity search might be required.
Perhaps later. His lips had other ideas.
As he mouthed the slope of her neck, his eyes slid to their reflection, which provided the most tantalizing portrait: her heaving chest, the suggestive arch of her back, those blasted black silk stockings.
Stifling his grunt of appreciation, Lucifer pulled away, reluctantly releasing her body.
She whimpered at the departure, but when she saw him unbuttoning his shirt in the window's reflection, Hermione went silent.
Her posture perking like a kitten's who'd just spotted a mouse.
Her eyes darted up and down, unable to decide which was more interesting, his face or hands.
When he went for his belt, she whipped her head around to get a proper look over her shoulder.
"Uh, uh," he chided. "No peeking. Eyes on the city."
Hermione smiled and turned back to the window, not seeing the city at all.
Lucifer removed his waistcoat and shirt then sat down to take off his shoes and socks.
He watched her from the corner of his eye.
She was getting anxious, her hips rolling in anticipation, her pussy blindly searching for release.
'Just give me a second, love. I've got what you need right here.'
When Lucifer stood and began to unzip his trousers, her hips stilled—her focus keen.
She was only getting glimpses in the low light of the candles, but she stared with the intensity of a stalker.
Lucifer stepped out of his trousers and casually took his place behind her, skimming his fingers over her naked buttocks.
She pushed out her arse and met his eyes in the window.
"Are you wet for me, Hermione?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered.
"Let's show Paris just how much." He smoothed both palms down her flanks then, on the way up, dipped around to her curly thicket and carded his fingers through her fur, cupping her mound.
Her hips thrust forward, trying to force the contact, and his middle finger grazed her slit.
She wasn't lying. She was wetter than the Medici Fountain.
Using two slick fingers, Lucifer spread her open. "Look at that sparkle."
Hermione whimpered and writhed, no more articulate than a mime—yet her body made her desires perfectly clear.
"You must really love duck," he teased, running his middle finger along her shining seam. "Or do you love showing the entire city how wet I can make you?"
"The duck was pretty good," she muttered cheekily.
Lucifer chuckled and nipped the back of her neck. So she wanted to play. Well . . . let the games begin.
"Is that window cold?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You're getting overheated."
Using the weight of his body, Lucifer pressed her to the glass, and she gasped at the sudden temperature change.
His finger continued to circle her clit, but it had become less teasing and more predatory.
"Isn't that better?" he crooned.
His forearm was pinned in front of her, but he found the cold bracing rather than shocking.
The rest of her was still as hot as a bubbling cauldron, and Lucifer snuggled his semi-erect prick between her warm cheeks. "Are those nipples nice and hard? I didn't get any dessert, and I'm ever so hungry."
"Yes, sir!"
He grinned and increased the pressure of his fingertip.
Her nub was stiff and distended, ready to explode. "I like this look on you. Stockings and heels. You should have just worn this to dinner."
She sputtered out a laugh. "I most likely would have been grounded, and you kicked out!"
"Possibly. But I know Paris prefers your dripping cunt over my throbbing cock. Let's see if it's ready for the spotlight yet."
One finger slipped inside, and Hermione shuddered in his arms, her groan echoing off the glass, "Mmm-m-m!"
"Yes, you are ready. Listen to that. It sounds as if you're dying for the show to begin. Is this what you need?" He ground his erection into her rump.
"Yes, sir," she whined, and her hand smacked the glass in a fit of frustration.
xxxxxx
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