“It’s not too late. You can still change your mind.”
I reached up, tracing his worry lines with my fingertips. “I’m not going to change my mind. I love you, and I meant every word I said to you downstairs. Nothing is going to change that.”
Joriel closed his eyes, seeming to savor my touch. I wanted him to believe in himself, but I knew I couldn’t force that on him. All I could do was believe in him and hope that one day he’d learn to believe it too.
I felt the tip of his cock lining up with my entrance, but he held himself back, not moving so much as an inch.
“This might hurt,” he said. “I need you to tell me if I hurt you. Tell me if you want me to stop. For any reason.”
I nodded. “It’s okay. I trust you.”
A tremor went through him. He plastered his forehead to mine, watching me closely as he pushed in, filling me one inch at a time until he was fully sheathed in me. It hurt at first, but then it felt like something inside had clicked into place, like we’d been made for each other. I’d never felt so whole, so complete. My body didn’t just adjust to him—it welcomed him like a long-lost lover finally coming home.
“Are you okay?” he said, his voice strained.
“I’m perfect.”
“Am I good to move?”
I nodded.
He eased out and back in in gentle strokes, holding himself back and letting me get used to the feel of him.
I moved with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and watched his muscles strain with the effort of keeping his control. It didn’t matter what I said, he’d hold on to his control as tightly as possible, and itwouldsnap. Because I knew he couldn’t hold back forever. Not if this felt half as good for him as it did for me.
I saw the second he lost it. His eyes darkened and his hips sped up as he chased his pleasure, and the friction was glorious. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as we moved together, both of us racing for release from the building pressure. His thrusts went deeper and deeper, hitting that spot that he’d found with his fingers, only it felt entirely different now.
I cried out as stars scattered across my vision and I clenched around him. Our eyes connected as he pulsed inside me, my release triggering his.
We were both breathing hard as we stared at each other. What had passed between us felt powerful, like we’d found the secret to being invincible. Love and commitment was a power that some would never know. It was security and strength, and it made me feel like I could face anything, do anything.
“I love you,” I said. “So much.”
“I don’t deserve you, but I’m so glad you chose me anyway.” He buried his face against my neck as he murmured my name over and over.
I stroked his hair, clinging to him with everything I had. He was my safe place, and I was his light in the dark. There was no deserving or not deserving when it came to us. We needed each other. We completed each other. Alone, neither one of us could be whole. Not anymore, not now that we were one heart in two bodies.
TWENTY-FIVE
Joriel
I tightenedmy fingers around Laila’s, feeling her wedding ring press into my palm. This was it, our last party in Hell. Whether things worked out for the best or the worst, we wouldn’t be going to another party, wouldn’t be returning to Roth’s mansion. It was strange to think that I might actually miss the demon prince. Six weeks of living in his home had done a lot to change my opinion of him.
I looked up at Lucifer’s palace, a gleaming monstrosity of black stone that sat at the very point of the peninsula that jutted off from the main court. A wall surrounded the property, the gates similar to the gates that had cut the Devil’s court off from the rest of Hell, minus the fire. These gates were all silver metal and black stone, rising ten feet into the air.
Laila returned my hand squeeze. “It doesn’t look like it should be so hard to get in. You could just fly over the gate.”
“I don’t think that would work,” I said, looking away from the palace to gaze at my wife. “The laws of Hell are enforced by Lucifer’s will, his power. I’m sure I wouldn’t survive an attempt to fly over his palace gate.”
Laila fiddled with the ends of the platinum braid that fell over her shoulder and brushed her waist. She was wearing another red dress, this one more vivid and also more sophisticated than her previous gowns. It was simple with thin straps, a red lace bodice, and a slim floor-length skirt with a slit that ended a couple of inches above her knee. Everything about it screamed elegance and womanhood.
“What?” she asked, a small grin turning up the corners of her lips.
“You look…” I didn’t know how to finish the statement. Words couldn’t do her justice.
“Thank you?” she replied after several seconds of silence.
“Are you ready for our last party in Hell?”
