Their very first meeting, the one that started it all. Next chapter will be their most recent 9th meeting and will have Chloe's explanation.
Bliss and contentment vanished the moment Lucifer blindly reached across the bed and was only met with cold sheets instead of a warm body. He could have looked around the penthouse for a note, something, but he knew there would be nothing. She had left without a word or a single trace, the only evidence she had even been here the faint sent of her skin still lingering on the pillows and the soreness in his bones. He kept his eyes closed, wishing he could go back to the feeling of happiness that had been so short lived, could remain ignorant just a little bit longer.
Last night hadn't been planned, it just happened against all odds. There was only minimal alcohol involved so there were no excuses to grab onto to, to hurl at the other to try to dismiss this, to hide behind. The first touch had been from the other willing participant, her hand caressing his cheek and sliding to the back of his neck before he leaned in. Their lips never met, her guiding him away twice before he took the hint and kept his attention on her neck and chest, eventually moving down her flat stomach and the lines of her hips.
Her hands had teased his skin as she removed layers, nails gently scraping, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. It wasn't fast paced and it hadn't been frantic, instead it had been drawn out and exploratory, filled with smiles and soft breaths. The clothes had disappeared before they made it to the bed, the blonde wrapped around him and dragging her tongue over the hollow of his throat. He didn't know why but he had hesitated before entering her warmth, meeting her eyes, not so much asking for permission but making sure they both knew that things would change after this moment. There was no going back to the before after tonight. For the first time in his long existence he had cared about the after, had briefly thought of the consequences both good and bad.
The world had melted away, everything vanishing except the woman underneath him overpowering every sense. His head swirled, eyes glazing at this human pulling him down closer, nibbling on his earlobe. Sex was sex; a simple physical act to find pleasure but this was so much more than he had anticipated. It was overwhelming, the mischievous glint in her mint eyes, the way her teeth bit into her bottom lip, the silkiness of her skin, the smell of her perfume.
She had sobbed after her fourth peak, the pleasure too much to handle, it blurring with pain as her body betrayed her, begging for more. He dragged it out, stretching her thinly, wanting to ruin every single person she had ever been with or would ever be with, erase them from her memory, burn himself into her mind and on to her skin.
"Please," she had whispered brokenly, heels digging into the small of his back, pupils blown and sharp pants on her lips.
It had been the sweetest thing he had ever heard, the object of his affections, his obsession, bending to his will but the Devil was not a merciful being. By the time the detective had reached her final peak she hadn't been able to move much. Her weak arms pulled him to her and cradled his head to her chest as he filled her with warmth, hands tangled in her hair, elbows digging into the bed to keep him from crushing her. They had stayed like that for some time until her eyes had begun to close, a smile on her lips, and he pulled her to him after scooting over. He had fallen asleep with Chloe Decker in his arms.
But that had been last night, and now under the harsh light of day she had vanished. Women and men had disappeared from his bed before but it never felt like this did, never made him feel cold and hollow, unwanted and betrayed. He was an excellent judge of character and there was no doubt Chloe had simply needed to leave, no she had left because she wanted to.
Yesterday had been emotionally charged for both, the case they had poured themselves over for the past three weeks coming to a head. By the time they were done it was dark and late and with the penthouse being closer they had retired to the luxurious loft and given in to the temptation that had been lingering for weeks. Something in the back of his head, something that had never been there had whispered to him to stop, that only pain could come of this but the voice had been quieted by a smirking mouth sucking on his fingers one by one.
No one had ever made him feel like he had last night. Had left him wanting more, had made him beg at times, had reduced him to a boneless mess. There was something different about her, something powerful, and he had felt himself yield to her and though he tried to fight it he couldn't stop. She was in control and even though she had pleaded, he was the one waiting for her words, waiting for her to tell him what she wanted.
He had prepared himself for this but found his version of prepared and the actual thing were vastly different. There had been a large chance she would panic, would run, would try to call it a mistake but her actually doing it had made his chest heavy in the worst way. What was it about her that made her able to resist him and why did it make him want her that much more?
Pulling himself up he walked to the bathroom and showered, knowing there would likely be another case soon since humans loved to harm each other, the wretchedness they blamed on him already in their souls. The water cascaded down his skin and he watched it fall to the ground and down the drain, carrying with it any traces of last night. A sinking feeling that this would never happen again made his gut coil and he wished hard for this to happen again.
No one had ever taught the Devil to be careful what he wished for.