All rights reserved to Orangeplum, founder and creator of Satan and Me.
This fanfiction is solely for the purpose of entertainment. The events,
characters, and firms depicted in this work are fictitious. Any
similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual firms, is purely
coincidental. Will contain graphic language, themes, adult situations,
and events some views may not find suitable.
VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.
This fanfiction takes place twenty years after the End of Days and the second, epic battle fought between Satan and Michael, in which Satan lost for the purpose of ending his punishment of harbouring Hell within himself by means of "death." Hell was then inserted into the being, Titus, as punishment for harmful intent to human life and angelic beings. Titus was then captured, sealed, and incarcerated in Purgatory, commonly referred to as limbo. However, Satan arose the morning following the battle, to everyone's dismay, telling of how he spoke with his Father about his new repercussions for insinuating the Apocalypse and fighting, once more, with his brother, Michael. For his first discrepancies, he was made to walk amongst the humans, but now, for his further defiance, he was made human. The years came and went as Lucifer adjusted to his new circumstances as a human, but not entirely alone was he made to do so. With him stayed his friend, Natalie McAllister, who, true to her character, helped him with the emotional rollercoaster that is "being human" and with their new found relationship bore feelings (especially since Lucifer no longer felt guilty about their loss of contract that would've inevitably sent Natalie to Hell). The friends, both naïve in the ways of love, at first, denied their feelings, but later confessed to one another. This is my hopeful, and very naïve, interpretation of what their average, daily lives would be…
The alarm went off. For the third time. Finally, it's obnoxious wails awoke the snoring bodies.
"OhmyGod," Natalie panicked, scrambling out from the blankets.
She lunged, over the body aside her, for the alarm clock, highlighting the numbers '9:26.'
"Oh, my God," she repeated, slamming the clock back onto the side table. "Luce, wake up! Wake up! We overslept." The ginger informed, slighting shucking him. "Snap, crackle, pop we slept in big time," Natalie decorated with her imaginative substitutes for profanity, tripping out of bed to stuff her bottom half into a pair of jean. "Come ooon, you lug, we've gotta get to stupid work and get the kids to stupid school," she order, patting, what was most likely, his hip over the covers.
"Up, Up!" she called as she left their bedroom, tugging down a sweatshirt.
Now, Lucifer, a being who once conquered empires, never could quite conquer how to "wake up quickly." Or early. Which was maaaybe why the alarm didn't go off at eight like it should've…
Satan laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
Why the fuck did they paint it yellow anyway?
"Uuuuuuugh," he grunted, squinting as the sun smacked the reflective paint into his eyes. Feeling his eyes sting, he sat up to rub to brightness, and the sleepiness, out of them. Leaning up as the mattress groaned, he scratched a belligerent itch on his ass as he staggered over to Natalie's and his double-closet, pondering what he might parade around in for his job as a Religious Studies professor.
He scratched his in-need-of-a-shave jaw.
After shrugging on a blazer and tie, Satan traveled down a hall adorning family photos before walking into a room with a tiny bed pressed against the far wall, a pink, princessy blanket draped over a lump in the middle of the mattress. As the ex-Devil neared, he thought back to a time when he hated the smaller, more annoying versions of humans, but something about having your own made it more… tolerable. Especially if it was his little Gracie. Since day one, she stuck to him like glue. Everything he did, she did. Not that he loved his two older children, Madison and Carson, any less, but there was just something about those green eyes she inherited her mother that melted the last, residual piece of any resentful feeling he ever had felt.
"Gracie Girl, it's time to wake up," the gentle giant cooed, stroking the four-year old's dark hair with a hand that surpassed the size of her whole head. The little body stirred, rubbing her nose into her pillow, before turning to face Lucifer, her pretty greens still full of sleep.
"'Morning, Daddy," the tiny brunette greeted, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"'Morning, Gracie," her father replied, stretching out his arms to pluck her off her bed and settle her into crook of his elbow. "We'd better get you dressed, huh?" Lucifer asked, funnily cocking his brow to make her giggle. She nodded. Carefully setting her down in front of her dresser, he ordered, "Arms up."
"Up." Gracie lifted her small arms above her head as Satan slipped her nightgown off and exchanged it for a My Little Pony T-shirt and shorts.
"Good?" he asked, finishing the button.
"Good." She chirped, flattening her arms to her sides. Stan chuckled slightly at the action she'd developed, when suddenly a disheveled redhead hit the doorframe.
"Great. You're both up and ready," Natalie breathed, relieved.
"'Morning, Momma," little Gracie beamed, trotting over to her mother for her morning hug and kiss. Natalie grinned tiredly, but returned with enthusiasm and kisses, "Mornin', Sweet Cheeks."
"Now, go eat breakfast with your brother and sister in the kitchen, 'kay?" Natalie explained, unsticking the four-year-old from her hip to go to the kitchen. For a moment, Natalie stood at the door frame, a cocktail of emotions masking her face as she looked over her husband. Satan never could figure what Natalie was hiding, or thinking, when she did this─even when they were contracted so many years ago. But, secretly, he enjoyed the subtle interval, because it gave the ex-Devil time to look over her as she did him.
The phrase "undressing with your eyes" came to mind, though.
Lifting off the doorframe, Natalie began to saunter over to him with a little extra sway of her hips. Finally, close enough, she gingerly slid her fingertips from his pecs to a lock of his hair. He watched as her eyes danced from feature to feature, until, without breaking their eye-connection,
"You're getting grey, old man," Natalie grinned, stroking his black, greying hair.
Seeing the harmless challenge in her, he thought of an easy retort.
Lucifer gently brushed the skin below her left eye. "What's that?" he asked, feigning alarm.
"What? What is it? Do I have an eyelash? Oh, I know what it is─it's probably my mascara, isn't it?" the ginger rambled, trying to look for herself.
"No… No, it's not mascara. I think… I think it's a wrinkle."
"Oooh, okay, a wrin… Hey! Don't be a butthead," Natalie swatted at him, seeing him snicker.
Natalie made a sound of annoyance before abruptly turning and exiting their daughter's room. Satan was left standing in the middle of the small bedroom, grinning and shaking his head at his wife's reaction, though he knew she knew that he thought of her as nothing but beautiful, forming wrinkles in all.
Satan's hand hovered over the lightswitch as he turned to survey Grace's room, a content sort of smile tugging his lips as a brief thought crossed his mind, but as soon as it came, it left as he turned off the light and shut the door.
In the kitchen there was a hurricane of noise as the eldest, Madison, who just turned ten a week ago, argued with the next in line, Carson, over who had spilt cereal on her homework and Natalie, screaming over the two of them to be quiet and eat. And, of course, little Gracie yelling at Spot, their year old Alaskan Malamute, who had jumped up onto the dining table in search for a breakfast that better suited his taste. Which was, apparently, Grace's syrupy pancakes.
Surveying which problem to tackle first, Satan opted for the pancake thief.
"Spot, get down," he bellowed, headed for the table. The dog ignored the command and continued on with his consumption of stolen goods. Satan rolled his eyes, knowing better than to tell a dog to stop eating something. Instead, he went over to rip the dog off the table and plop him onto the ground.
"Aw, Grace, don't cry," Satan pleaded, seeing the tears brewing in her eyes as he stood from putting Spot on the ground. "Look, Daddy's gonna make you some new ones, okay?" he bargained.
Satan began to search for the pancake batter, when "Don't hit your brother," stopped him in his process. Lucifer turned around to find a guilty looking ten-year-old and a distraught Natalie.
"Madison, did you hit your brother?" Satan bad-copped.
"No…" she said, looking to her lap for answers.
"Madison, baby, don't lie to Mommy and Daddy," Natalie good-copped.
The fifth grader hesitated, debating her options. Keep up the lie or tell the truth? However,
"But he messed up my homework," she said, choosing option 'C'. Smart kid, Satan had to think.
Suddenly, techno music blasted the air, snapping everyone's attention to the tabletop.
Natalie picked up her phone, her eyes popping out of their sockets at the alarm.
"Holy cannoli, we gotta leave guys. Schools starts in ten minutes," she stammered, fumbling around to grab her keys, purse and paperwork, halting in her search to ask,
"Maddie, is hitting people ever right?"
"No?"
"Okay, good. Now, come on, go put your shoes on," Natalie ended, rushing the kids out of the kitchen and into the doorway to slip on thier shoes. As they all headed for the van, Natalie called, "Have a good day at work, Luce! Love you!"
"Love you, too…" Lucifer replied to oblivion, while Spot lapped spilt orange juice.
The hidden irony that out of all the American jobs Lucifer could've chose, picking a college professor for Religious Studies never failed to bring him some fleck of amusement, despite the fact that the job was mind-numbing. However, the concept of molding young minds had always piqued some interest to the ex-Devil. Figuratively, of course. He surrendered any and all homicidal habits years ago. Which came as a surprise to the angel-turned-devil-turned-human that not only his "bad habits" ceased, but at how quickly he adapted to living just as a mortal, which, apparently, meant no more recreational killing sprees. Or starting all out wars. Or plagues… Dad, he missed the good ole' days. Lucifer even prided himself on his versatile husbandry, fatherhood, and suburdandry.
During his inner monologue, Lucifer hadn't noticed the steady trickle of students.
Game face time.
Satan peered down at his wristwatch, checking the time. The period was coming to an end and, minus that morning's fiasco, he had had a pretty good day. He even had the mind to not hand out any tests today. Less grading on his part, really. But with what comes peaceful thinking, comes interruptions.
"How'ya been, Lucy?" A familiar, grating voice rang. Satan cringed.
"Leave me the hell alone, Michael." Satan demanded, quietly so that his students didn't think he'd lost his bonkers.
Since people can't see obnoxious, annoying angels.
Michael pouted, his legs crossed as he sat on his brother's desk, "Whyyyyyyyy? I mean, it's been forever since we hanged, bro. What's it been… ten years now?" He asked, his eyes losing their childish gleam and his voice gaining a sinister quality that didn't go unnoticed by the professor.
Knowing that his brother wanted to talk, Satan dismissed his class a few minutes early.
"What do you want?" Lucifer asked, now that they were alone. "Dad send you?"
"Psssh, no. I wanted to see you." Michael lied.
Satan leaned back into his chair, knitting his fingers together, "Right, because you know how delighted I get whenever you visit," he deadpanned.
The angel scoffed, hopping off the desk to dust off his tunic. "Yeah, He sent me."
"Well, go on. What's He have to say?"
Michael held in a long pause before turning to face Lucifer, "He wants you back. He's seen how you've changed and He's giving you a second chance. He wants to reinstate you as an Archangel."
"Natalie, I'm home," Satan called, tossing his keys on the entry table. He heard a 'welcome home' followed by her undeniable giggle. Curious, he pursued its direction.
"Why the fuck are you here?" Lucifer almost screamed, seeing the angel for a second time that day, sitting at his dining table with his wife nonchalantly sipping tea.
Both Natalie and Michael looked up at him as a voice from behind him said,
"Please, Lucifer, don't be upset. F- Father, he─"
"Jesus Christ, you, too?" Satan cut off, finding Gabriel with his usual look of alarm. Satan groaned as he ran a hand down his face and fell into a chair. "Look," he started, using very pointed hand gestures, "I don't wanna beat-around-the-bush with empty small talk─ I know why you're both here and you both can tell Dad 'no', a'ight?" he ended, looking back and forth for his brothers' resignation.
"Is that what you really want? It seems your heart is wavering." A fifth voice questioned.
Satan sighed.
"Why, Raphiel, you shouldn't have. Come. Join the party."
"I'll get the brownies!" Natalie chirped, popping up from her chair to a cabinet.
The burly angel took up a chair, scanning the room, "Is Uriel not coming?" he observed, noticing the lack of a certain blonde. Michael and Gabriel shared a look before both shrugging. Raphael nodded, reverting his attention back to the guest of honor, "Lucifer, Father is giving you a second chance like noneother, you should, perhaps, give it a bit more serious thought."
Lucifer stared at Raphael.
"Leave."
None of the brothers budged. Except Michael, as he was in the process of scarfing down a plate of Lucifer's brownies.
"Aside from business, we wanted to meet our new nieces and nephew. It's not every day the threes Archangels become uncles." Raph defended.
Satan caught Natalie's frozen reaction out of the corner of his eyes. He knew she never wanted to involve their kids with angels or demons. Or anything in between. She didn't want them to have knowledge of things that no human should ever conceive of. Not to mention they had already struggled a decade ago to convince them play the role of Luce's "family" at his and Natalie's wedding.
She masked a smile, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you three to stay for dinner," she offered, though, pinning Satan with a look that said, 'Make them leave'.
"No. We made a deal that as long as I never harm humans, in any form, that you'd stay out of my life permanently. That deal extends to my children as well."
Natalie cleared her throat.
"Our children." Satan corrected.
Michael snorted. "Ain't that golden. He's really gone soft. Like a fuckin' marshmellow. Screw it, he's softer than a marshmellow. Whatever's softer than a marshmallow, you're it, bro."
"A cloud?" Gabriel offered.
"Yeah, that! Thanks, Gabey Baby." Michael laughed. "You're softer than a baby cloud's bottom, Luce. Maybe Dad turning you human wasn't such a bad plan after all."
Suddenly, Raphael heaved a sigh, "No, Lucifer is right. We're already breaking the deal as it is. We wouldn't be here had it not been for Father's wishes." He ended, standing from the table. "I shall be leaving then. Natalie, wonderful to see."
Natalie nodded in response and added, "You too, Doctor Dude."
"As for you, Lucifer," the masculine angel turned to his brother, "consider all possibilities before you make your choice. Father will be waiting."
With that, the heaviness in the air vanished as the three angels disappeared.
Hopefully, far away, Satan thought.
Natalie quietly sat down at the table, her hands clutching a mug.
Minutes ticked by as they both sat in silence, knowing the question that hung in the air.
What're you going to do?
"I gotta go get the kids," Natalie broke the unwritten silence, standing to put her cup in the sink.
"Natalie," Lucifer whispered, copying her actions to rest his hand atop hers as they stood before the sink, his chest flush against her back. "Natalie, I…" his voice withered, words suddenly failing him.
Shaking his head, he sighed, knowing that whatever he said would just be talk. Instead, Lucifer stepped back, feeling the loss of her warmth linger on his chest.
They needed time.
He needed time.
"Daddy!" Carson and Grace cheered in unison as they bursted through the door, backpacks hobbling up and down on their shoulders. Madison was, of course, too old to be excited to see her dad. Instead, the ten-year-old strutted off to her room.
"Hey!" Their father greeted, opening his arms for their adorable onslaught. Carson and Gracie ran at him fullthrottle, winding him as they head-butted into his gut.
"Hey, how was your guy's day? What'd you do at school, Carson?" Satan asked, releasing the two pink-faced children from his bearhug. The kindergartner backed up to take off his TMNT backpack and pulled out a slip of doodled-on paper.
"Ms. Blaine taught us about the days of the week and eleven months of the year!" Carson beamed, puffing his chest at his accomplishment of writing the months down with little symbols for each month. Satan chuckled at his son, ruffling his hair as he complimented the chart.
"What about you, Gracie? What'd you with Mrs. Sanchez today?" He questioned, talking about the four-year-old's daycare teacher. Gracie's eyes brightened as she realized it was her turn to talk.
"We went outside and played on the playground and I swinged all by myself." she boasted.
"You did?" Satan asked, pretending to be surprised.
Gracie nodded exuberantly with a smile that was missing a tooth or two.
"Well, sounds like you both had an eventful day. Wish I could've came with you guys," their dad joked, though, secretly envying them a little. He had a rough day, what with the sudden appearance and acquisition of his most annoying "brothers."
Carson giggled, "No, Daddy, you don't go to school. You go to work."
"You're right. I do go to work, Carson, but maybe I should go to school like you."
"Nooo, that'd be weird," Carson shook his head.
"Aww, but then I would to be with allll day," Lucifer said, scooping up the two of them once more, attempting to tickle the two wiggling bodies.
"No, Daddy, that tickles," Gracie screamed through laughs.
"Never!" Satan promised, laughing along with them, but stopped, seeing a not-too-thrilled-looking Natalie. Hand on hip.
"Uh-oh," all three chimed simultaneously.
"I've been trying to ask all of you want you wanted for dinner for the past five minutes," Natalie huffed as Satan let Carson and Grace slid out of his lap and escape to the living room.
"Nat, don't worry about that─ I'll cook tonight." He said, trying to smooth it over.
She scoffed, "Yeah, sure."
"I'll even wash the dishes," he offered, sweetening the deal. Natalie kept up her scowl, but her expression softened as she sighed.
"Fine," she ended, walking away, but before out of earshot, she called, "No takeout!"
"Shit," Lucifer cursed, quietly, doing a reverse fistbump.
The doorbell rang. Lucifer ran to the door, saying, "I got it!"
"Dammit, man, I told to you knock," Satan hissed, fishing for his wallet.
"Dude, I'm just the delivery guy," the teenager replied, holding out his hand. Satan slapped the cash into the boy's palm and snatched the greasy pizza boxes.
"Wait, you gave me─"
"Keep the change," the ex-Devil shut the door, tiptoeing inconspicuously to the kitchen to dish out the pizza slices on plates. Once he was done setting up the dining table, he ditched the cardboard evidence outside in the bigger trash can. Remember to take out the trash Thursday, Satan internally memoed.
"Dinner's ready!" Satan voice boomed throughout the house, and seconds later, they all came swarming.
The promise of food is always a beneficial motivator. Or negotiator.
Lucifer scooped his hands under Gracie's armpits and settled her in her high chair while the others took to their own chairs. Natalie at one end, Madison to her right, Carson to the left, while Satan sat at the opposite end with little Gracie to his right in her flowery high chair.
Homework was finished. Teeth were brushed. Everyone was ready for bed, except for a certain ginger and her husband.
Natalie stood uncharacteristically quiet in front of her side's bathroom vanity, wiping away the day's makeup. However, Satan, over the years, had easily picked up on this cue that when his wife was nonvocal, protect the family jewels, because something was wrong.
Not being to take the silent treatment any longer, Satan asked, "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" She condescended.
"You know what."
"Talk about what? The fact that you're considering leaving to be an Archangel again? Well, why don't you─I mean, it worked out great the first time! God, everything was just so perfect, y'know─happy. And then they come! Not that I hate your brothers, I don't, but God! A- and don't pretend you never even consider leaving, cause I swear, I─"
"Of course I considered it," he interjected, before she went on a rant. Once again, the only sound to escape the bathroom was a suffocating muteness. Most days, Satan, admittedly, wished his wife was tongue-tied, but this wasn't one of those time. He wished she'd just say something; yell, get pissed, anything, but she knew what really got to him and that was her silence.
"Natalie, please," he begged, something he only ever did for her. An almost inaudible sigh ghosted from the tiled bathroom before it's light when out and Natalie appeared, shadows from one of the nightstand lamp hugging her figure. As well as a pair of her pajama boxers and thin tank.
Not fair, Satan thought, swallowing thickly.
He caught a sort of ember spark in her eyes as he sized her, but it quickly extinguished, her frustration more evident in their current situation.
Lucifer had to tear away his gaze from her hips to meet her eyes.
Natalie walked calmly over to her side of the bed and slithered in, while Satan kept his seat at the bottom edge of their king-sized bed. He didn't know where they stood at the moment and didn't feel like finding out by curling into bed with her to only feel a knife pressed to his stomach.
"I just don't want you to leave," a small, breaking voice whispered behind him.
He immediately recognized why her voice sounded like that.
She was holding back tears.
Satan felt his heart twinge.
He couldn't do this to her. He couldn't let her cry, screw their petty argument.
Satan came around to where she was, sliding in behind Natalie to cradle her tiny, shaking body with his own. He stroked her hair, pressing her as close as he could get her without breaking her.
He knew he hurt her, but how could he make this better? What do you say in a situation like this?
"Hey, babe, God, who is also my Dad, is drafting me back into heaven's army. Gotta go, cuz like its God, haha. Laters, baby."
Satan grimaced at that horrible analogy.
No, he would rather nuder himself with a spoon that'd been through the garbage disposal one too many times before hurting her like that.
He had hurt her enough in the past.
Natalie was his wife now, for fuck's sake. They'd been married almost eleven years.. They raise three, perfect kids together. They pay bills together. Shit, they go to Wal-Mart every Saturday together, so how could he just leave to return to Heaven?
Thinking of their marriage, his mind suddenly took him back to Florence, where they had spent two weeks for their honeymoon. The two most bliss-filled weeks of his existence.
During his reign as the Devil, he never understood the frivolous concept of marriage, but after his own, he understood that the honeymoon was what the real hullabaloo was about…
Of course, it hadn't all been about the sex (though he wasn't complaining) but more so to do with the newfound intimacy shared between individuals. Everything else except you and them could melt away in place full of strangers, excitement, and adventure.
"Do you remember the day," he started, his voice caressing a melancholy smile, "when we were on our honeymoon in Florence and we," he paused, scoffing at the memory, "and we were walking on the shores of the Sperlonga and all the locals kept telling us to get back because there was a high tide coming, but we couldn't understand, so we just got swept up in the tide." He chuckled.
"Do you still remember that?"
He felt her nodding, her sniffling becoming less frequent.
"Yeah, no, you remember because after that, when the tide stopped, there had been, um, a jellyfish or something that stung the shit outta me and made me delusional as hell? Jesus, that was the first real pain I had felt in a long time." He said, shaking his head at the flashes of memory. The sting. Her eyes. The bright lights on the hospital's ceiling that they were rushed to.
Through sucking up snot and tears, she tried restraining her giggles. "H- how could I? At the hospital, you asked me to marry you, again." She laughed at the memory as well.
And, suddenly, they were both laughing hysterically, reminiscing and falling back into the pillows, the vibration of Lucifer's throaty chuckles bubbling Natalie up and down.
Finally, their laughter died down, realizing they might wake up the kids.
"God, I miss us," Natalie breathed, curling up to Satan's left side.
He nodded, understanding what she meant.
"Yeah, I miss us, too."
"I mean, we're just beginning," Natalie stated, sitting up to face her husband. "We just started, Luce. We haven't even gotten to the big one-five, yet. But, I mean, if you're not happy here with us, with me, then sure you should go. Do what does make you happy. I'm sure you probably miss it…"
Lucifer took a moment to think about his response.
"I miss… certain things," he admitted, "I mean, once upon a time, we all were a family, dysfunctional yes, but somehow still happy. Until Dad created man and we… I… just felt abandoned by Him," he shrugged, "and I couldn't take it. I left, taking anyone who wanted to. We Fell. But for me, it felt like I never stopped falling."
Surprised by his sudden openness, Natalie listened intently, them never really talking about the day of his Fall, aside from the dream she once had while still under contract. But that was more like watching a movie; she hadn't known what he was thinking, or feeling, at the time, Natalie had only been an unfortunate bystander. Realizing he was no longer talking, Natalie spoke up.
"Gah, you know me─I'm not all that superb consoling people when their sad," she joked, trying to lighten the mood, but nevertheless, she wasn't lying, "Luce, I am so, so sorry that that was how things ended up happening with you and your family. I wish that I could've really been there when you needed me, but, hey, I probably wouldn't've helped much since I'm human, which is the whole reason you did all thaaaaahahaha," Natalie gawfed, humorlessly, seeing the irritated look on Satan's face.
"Hey, don't gimme that look, you know I suck at this, plus you're the reason I, and every other chick on planet earth, has a little, red visitor every month," she defended, indignant.
"Aaaand childbirth ain't no picnic either, buck-o. You were there. Thrice."
If there was ever a facial expression dubbed for 'touché', Satan wore it fabulously.
"But, hey, childbirth may not have been be a trip to Six Flags, but making 'em sure was," the ex-Devil joked, now that they were out of their funk and settling back into bed.
Thinking that his bashful ginger would blush or become flustered at his offhanded comment, Satan was taken aback when, while fluffing her pillow, she nonchalantly replied, "Yeah, it was."
Natalie laughed, turning to find her husband's jaw hitting the blanket.
Satan was really taken aback.
After collecting himself, Lucifer took her playful show of slowly flipping her hair over her shoulder and rubbing lotion across her forearms as an invitation.
But to what, exactly?
Screw it, he thought, I'd rather find out than just sit here.
Satan's fluid, serpentine movement of hovering over her lower half called to Natalie's attention.
She looked at him looking at her, waiting. Lingering.
She slid down just enough so that she was consumed beneath him, their eye level's matching, trapped within his propped up elbows and inner thighs. And, damn, did she love that feeling of his warmth, his heat, caging her, pressing down on her. She'd never leave it, if she could.
Finally, unable to withstand the building anticipation, Natalie reached out to collect Lucifer's face between her hands, her fingers unconsciously sweeping back strands of his dark hair, whispering, "I love you," before steering his lips to her own.
Satan had always kissed her gently, tenderly, as if she was a precious, glass figurine, and she loved that endearing side of him because it was something she, and she alone, knew.
The ex-Devil truly was nothing but a marshmellow and Natalie McAllister knew it all along.
Natalie wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him closer, and tracing her fingertips along his bare, broad back. Man, did she love when he didn't wear shirts. It gave her time to ogle his caramel-colored six-pack. Though, really, she didn't shirtlessness as an excuse.
She could do that anytime she wanted to.
She owned him.
Natalie gasped, the stubbly lips peppering kisses on her neck halting her train of thought. But her surprise wore off as his exploration ended on the sensitive area of her neck. Her hum, along with the slight pressure of nails on his shoulder blades, made Lucifer swell with pride. As did a few other things, but, hey, it had, sadly, been a while since their last time together─still, he knew how to work all her turn-ons.
Almost better than he knew how to work the damn remote control buttons.
And he took full advantage of the fact.
Pulling back, he brought her with him, lips never parting until Satan peeled her tank off, freeing her soft skin to the mercy of his calloused hands. Her head tilted back as his mouth and hands found their way to her breasts, his thumb brushing over her nipple. Lucifer slowly guided her back down onto the bed for less effortful access, to which she had no qualms, as only low mewls and sighs escaped her.
He expanded his attention below her breasts to her stomach, layering kiss after kiss til he neared the place he sought after. A place nothing, no one, had known but him, and the thought of that drove him mad with wanting to put his mouth on her. Satan slipped his fingers beneath the band of her polka-dot boxers, sensually kissing the skin of her hips as he shimmied away the clothing article somewhere to the floor that left his wife in nothing but her underwear.
The ex-Devil grinned, spotting the kitten-face printing.
But those, too, came off, their bodies molding together as Natalie wrapped her long legs around Lucifer's hips. Now their bodies flush against one another's, Satan took hold of himself, waiting for any sign that she might not consent, but when none came, he positioned himself to her sex's folds and entered.
The silky warmth enfolding around his erection sent a volcanic eruption throughout himself, and without even moving, he thought just the heat of her was enough to make him climax. But he knew that was nowhere enough to quench her raging thirst because she began to whimper and jut forward.
He had to move.
He pulled out, the quiet sound she made as he did music to ears, before he rammed back inside her, rocking her like ocean waves, taking her higher with each thrust caressing that wonderful place within, making her writhe and moan in heady ecstasy. She bit down onto his exposed shoulder, muffling her delicious moans and pants, but not hard enough for him to hear his name on her lips.
"Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer…" she chanted, pumping in tandem with him, her muscles tightening, clutching him, clinging to him like the only pillar left to a crumbling building as she rode her orgasm with his own earth-shattering orgasm following suit. And then everything stilled─his thrusts, the pleasure, the noise─as all electrical impulses within the netting of their nerves slowed, allowing them to catch their breath in the afterglow.
Lucifer had made love to his wife, a thought that never crossed his mind until he met her, and he'd do it for eternity and a day if he could, yet he could feel the days like these dwindling closer to an end.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."