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Pierce grasped Lucifer’s shoulders, gazing deep into his eyes. “Look, I want to… I want to fight you, to beat you… and then I want… I want to screw you. I want to screw you real rough, here and now. In the office. While Decker’s around and I know I’ve got a chance of overpowering you. Is that enough? Okay? But we can’t do it here and now, can we? People would hear. I’d lose my job.”
“I want you to fulfil that desire,” Lucifer had said. “That’s an important part of the deal… Meet me in the interrogation room.”
***
Inside the interrogation room, Lucifer leaned against the wall, arms folded and regarding Pierce with a heavy-lidded, penetrating stare. He’d removed his waistcoat and jacket and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing his smooth, waxed chest.
He looked edible, and Pierce’s blood rushed south to his cock. Nevertheless, Pierce greeted Lucifer with a glower, it’s impact undermined when he coughed. The air was heavy with sawdust, and the walls, save the viewing pane from the small adjoining chamber, had been completely re-panelled.
“This place was due an upgrade,” said Lucifer. “I asked the Chief of Police to get it soundproofed, and make it so that nobody can see in, save from the viewing chamber, and I’ve got the key to that. So… you really can do exactly what you want to me, and nobody in the office beyond will be any the wiser.”
Pierce groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “You know, Lucifer, I’m tired, and I’m really not in the mood f—”
Lucifer launched forward and shoved him hard. Pierce flew into the opposite wall with a smack. “Not good enough,” snarled Lucifer. While Pierce shook his throbbing head, Lucifer beckoned him with both hands. “You desired a fight with me, you wanted to overpower me while the Detective’s a few yards off and you’ve got a chance—so come and get it!”
Lucifer was so cocky, so confident… so in control. Pierce’s anger spiked, and he let it engulf him. He threw aside the table, which landed with a loud clatter, clearing more space for them to bring each other down. “You asked for it, Lucifer!”
“Indeed, I d—” Lucifer broke off, as Pierce charged him. Pierce rammed his shoulder into Lucifer’s stomach, picking him up and hurling him to the floor. Pierce threw himself on top of Lucifer, pressed one hand to his chest to hold him down, then began to punch him. He let out all his frustrations in a series of increasingly potent blows. Then… he hesitated. The left side of Lucifer’s face was blossoming with bruises, and a cut above his eye was bleeding. Lucifer wiped it with the back of his hand, and blinked hard, as if his vision was blurring.
Shit. Given his mood, Pierce hadn’t expected a stab of conscience quite so soon. Such niceties hadn’t bothered him when he’d spanked Lucifer. What had changed? “You okay?”
“Fine and dandy.” Lucifer reared upward, shoving Pierce off him. He rose and jammed the sole of his shoe square in Pierce’s gonads. Pierce tumbled back onto his haunches, swearing and clutching himself. “Bloody hell, Marcus, is that the best you’ve got?”
Lucifer goaded Pierce enough for his fury to hold sway again. It was time to get real. Get nasty. Pierce might be brawling with the Prince of Darkness, but Lucifer wasn’t even the strongest of God’s angels, and Pierce was Cain! The world’s first murderer, and he knew how to fight and take what he wanted. Swallowing back his discomfort, Pierce surged forward, grabbed Lucifer by the front of his shirt, and started pummelling Lucifer in the gut as if his longed-for death depended on it.
Beneath his balled fist, Pierce felt a series of satisfying crunches. When Lucifer’s knees buckled, Pierce let him fall. Kneeling over Lucifer, he grabbed his hair and clonked his head back against the floor. Then he did it again.
A red mist of fury saturated Pierce’s vision, and he repeated the deed a couple more times. As for Lucifer, he appeared stunned, save a faint feral glint about his eyes, which suggested, at least to Pierce, that he was still up for this. That only made Pierce madder, and he whacked Lucifer’s head back yet again.
Lucifer went properly limp, his eyes lolling closed. Pierce backed off, faintly alarmed. But, heck, even if he had hurt Lucifer, when Decker left the office, he’d just get better. And this was what Pierce wanted… wasn’t it? Lucifer had taunted him. Humiliated him. Lucifer deserved—
“Surprise!” Lucifer’s eyes flew wide and he backhanded Pierce, sending Pierce sprawling. “Besting me is not as easy as you think, even with the Detective fighting your corner. Maybe you’re just crap at fighting? Bullies always turn out that way when they meet their match.”
The red mist descended once more. Pierce, his brains ringing from the blow, spat blood and showed no mercy. He flung himself into Lucifer, crushing him flat, this time surely busting the air from his lungs. Lucifer, despite his defiant words, was flagging. Before he could regroup, let alone battle back, Pierce grabbed his hands, forced them above his head, and shackled them with a sturdy pair of police-issue handcuffs. Pierce had not come entirely unprepared.
“Bravo, Marcus.” Trapped beneath Pierce, Lucifer snatched a shallow breath. It had to be difficult to breathe at all with Pierce grinding himself against him, using his weight advantage to crush Lucifer down.
The friction ignited an intense heat, and Pierce, who’d often got a hard-on in the heat of combat, exulted in it. Having a vanquished foe struggle beneath one was naturally arousing. Lucifer, with his strong, divine body, had proved particularly satisfying to subdue. But he’d done it! When all things were equal, Pierce was bigger and stronger and, crucially, more experienced at having to defend himself without God-given powers. So what if Lucifer had hit the nail on the head when he’d said Pierce was a bully? Pierce ached to unleash his pent-up sexual tension, and he was going to enjoy his victory.
He prized himself up enough to flip Lucifer over onto his front. Lucifer struggled a bit; Pierce boxed his ear then shoved his hand under his stomach to loosen his clothing. He yanked Lucifer’s trousers down, greeted by the sight of Lucifer’s delectable rear. The slut seemed to have given up ever wearing underwear.
“Is this what it was like with Abel?” Lucifer renewed his efforts to wriggle and resist. “Did he struggle too?”
“Shut up!” Pierce jammed Lucifer into the floor with a heavy hand on his back, then straddled Lucifer’s thighs and unbuttoned his own trousers. He’d not got lube, though he’d fucked Lucifer without any before, and Lucifer endured it then; had climaxed before he did, in fact. And yet—
“You've come this far. Just get on with it, please!"
Lucifer’s hissed words sounded distant and distracted, as if he really was in pain. Pierce wondered if he’d cracked Lucifer’s ribs or inflicted some internal damage. At the very least, Lucifer had to have one heck of a headache and be badly bruised, as Pierce surely was. Where Pierce wasn’t aching with need, he was sore from a hard pummelling, and Lucifer had taken far worse—a satisfying notion, that ought to have spurred Pierce on.
So why did this still feel wrong? Why was he wishing, yet again, for some stronger connection with Lucifer, something more profound than the sex and the violence, and… Oh fuck it! He was angry, hot and horny. He was a bully, and Lucifer had asked for it. Lucifer’s injuries were probably at least fifty percent playacting, anyhow.
As Pierce hesitated, Lucifer peeped over his shoulder at him. No longer animated by the fire of battle, Lucifer looked pale and shaken and the cut to the left of his eye bled fitfully. “This is what you wanted,” he said, his voice soft but laced with venom, “what you desired.”
Pierce had. He really had.
“No!” Pierce’s cry was borne of true anguish, because the instant the real truth hit him, Lucifer started to drag it from him. He shifted off Lucifer, knelt to gently roll him over, then removed the handcuffs. “I thought it was what I wanted, and it was, but now… I want… I want…”
Lucifer rubbed his wrists, before recapturing Pierce’s gaze. “As you were saying?”
Whether Lucifer was applying his mojo or not hardly seemed to matter. Deep inside Pierce, something sagged and surrendered. He didn’t want to hurt Lucifer anymore. He definitely didn’t want to take him in the vicious fashion he nearly had, however much Lucifer incited him. Pierce was through with that game, at least for now. The truth was far scarier and more dangerous.
He leaned down and brushed Lucifer’s lips with a brief, chaste kiss.
“Lucifer,” he whispered, trembling and disbelieving, “I want to take you out on a date.”
Lucifer sniggered, and Pierce discovered he kind of still wanted to hit him, just not too hard. Maybe a light slap. He resisted, anyhow.
“I don’t usually do dates,” said Lucifer, “I do one-night stands. And I certainly don’t do monogamy, but…” He propped himself up on an elbow and cupped Pierce’s cheek, chafing his thumb across the stubble. Seizing at the lifeline, Pierce leaned forward and kissed him again. This time, Lucifer parted his lips, inviting Pierce to plunder deeper. Pierce cupped Lucifer’s face in his hands and savoured the mingled tastes of whisky, sweet donuts, coppery blood and something uniquely, wonderfully Lucifer.
When Pierce finally broke away, his blood rushed so fast that his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He braced himself for rejection. That moment, that kiss… it was all part of Lucifer’s twisted plan, right? Pierce braced for his heart to be broken. Crap… he wasn’t sure he even had a heart.
“But,” reiterated Lucifer, smoothing his tongue over his shiny and still slightly bloody lips. “I’ll make an exception for a fellow immortal. Cain, let’s go out on a date. And—” He raised a finger to emphasize a point, even as Pierce reeled with… Shit, was that pleasure? Did he, for the first time in pretty much forever, feel happy? As if he hadn’t spent the last few dozen millennia wishing to die?
“And it’s not just because it’ll piss of my Dad,” continued Lucifer. “While you are a nasty bully, I believe there might be another side you that I’d like to get to know. We really do have a lot in common.”
Pierce, still shell-shocked from his confession, didn’t have the wherewithal to respond. He stroked Lucifer’s hair, wondered at how much he fancied the smug self-satisfied bastard, then pulled him close and kissed him for a third time—kissed him until he was breathless and brightly coloured stars wheeled in front of his eyes.
But didn’t Lucifer love and obsess over Chloe Decker?
“Shit,” thought Marcus Pierce. He really hated Lucifer now.
Lucifer rose unsteadily to his feet, flinching and favouring one side, before dusting down his crumpled clothing. “Now we’ve got that sorted,” he said, “you owe me sex. I’m still up for it, if you are.” He reached a hand down to Pierce. Pierce, stunned, took it and allowed Lucifer to pull him up.
Lucifer’s trousers were still hitched low from where Pierce had tugged them down, sitting on his slender hips and revealing a swathe of delicious midriff—albeit marred with bluey-purple contusions. Most of the buttons of his rumpled shirt remained open too. Pierce leaned back to rake a ravenous gaze down him, then reached to touch the drying blood on Lucifer’s forehead. He winced.
“You’re hurt, Lucifer, and I did it. I’m capable of hurting you right now, so I can’t have sex with you—I haven’t got any lube.”
“Five minutes ago, hurting me was the flavor de jour. You’re so mercurial! Doesn’t matter, I can handle you."
“No,” said Pierce, firm now.
Lucifer rolled his eyes, then rummaged in his discarded jacket and pulled out a little tube. “Good job I’m always prepared.”
“I’d never have taken you for such a Boy Scout,” mumbled Pierce. Any further dry humour died on his lips, as Lucifer took a doubtful look at the lube then tossed it aside, instead sliding his fingers into his mouth. He rolled the digits around his tongue a couple of times, ’til they were moist and glistening. Then, with Marcus transfixed, he slid his fingers down the back of his pants and shimmied his hips in an obscenely erotic fashion. His eyes fluttered closed and his mouth momentarily formed an almost perfect “o”.
Lucifer Morningstar. Is finger fucking himself. For me.
Lucifer gave a lopsided smile. “This is even more fun,” he purred, “knowing that just yards away our delightful colleagues are beavering away at their desks, none the wiser. Ah!” Lucifer gave a naughty-sounding cry, evidently pressing toward a sweet spot. “I mean… Gnng… They must’ve guessed you were giving me a dressing down, but few of them could’ve known… oh bugger, I’m almost hitting it, but not quite. You’d better get in, chop chop!”
“Lucifer. Just shut up.”
Pierce captured Lucifer’s mouth again. He kissed deeper, dirtier, sloppier and greedier than ever, as he bore down on Lucifer with far less violent intentions than previously. Lucifer returned the kiss with interest, turning his busy hands to fresh work as he tore Pierce’s shirt open. He mauled Pierce’s bruised flesh with far less reverence than Pierce was showing him. Pierce loved every rough caress, every sexy tweak and pinch of his skin.
The playful teasing made it all the more rewarding for him to wrestle Lucifer into submission, and press him forward against the wall. With a heartfelt shout of relief, he finally plunged inside.
Lucifer was tight, as tight as last time Pierce had taken him, when he’d been completely unprepared. Lucifer threw his head back and let out the most extravagant moan yet, as Pierce rammed him to the hilt. Pierce paused a moment, revelling in the exquisite velvet heat, allowing Lucifer to adjust to being so stuffed, so filled. Yeah, maybe Pierce flattered himself, but he prided himself in having quite a large package—large even for the devil to handle. But clearly not too large. Soon, Lucifer began clenching and shoving his hips back, egging Pierce on. “Are you having a snooze back there?”
Pierce began to move. He set his mind blank, enjoying the incredible sensation of being inside Lucifer, who continued playing pushy bottom, trying to set the damned pace. Pierce called on all his centuries of experience not to come way too soon. He snatched back the lead through slowing, quickening, then slamming Lucifer into the new boards on the wall—which rattled alarmingly, and almost as loudly as Lucifer screamed—then fucking him ever deeper.
Lucifer came first. Like the previous occasion, the son-of-a-bitch clamped so tight about Pierce’s cock, it threw Pierce off balance and almost killed all sensation. Pierce gritted his teeth and pumped on through, allowing his pleasure to build slow, sure, sublime… and then finally, satisfyingly, he climaxed. A tidal wave of pleasure unleashed as he let out all his vexations in a bestial roar.
***
“That was an exciting new experience for me” said Lucifer, as he adjusted a cufflink. “Nobody has ever fucked me into a wall while I’m nursing several cracked ribs before.”
“Shit, Lucifer, I’m sorry.” Pierce, still slightly out of breath from his exertions, righted the overturned table and sighed ruefully. “I got carried away and forgot. How can I make this right?”
“It’s fine,” said Lucifer, breezily. “Added a certain frisson, that’s all, and I’m already half fixed. Maybe the Detective popped out for lunch? My main concern is that one usually goes out on the date before the screwing commences. Not that I’m objecting. I did demand the sex, but—”
“It’s okay, we don’t need to go on a date.” Pierce, still guiltily avoiding Lucifer’s eye, was now fretting over a large tear in his shirt. His mind had already flown back to work and his concern that no soundproofing could blot out the commotion of two six-foot-plus guys beating the shit out of each other then having noisy sex.
And how were they going to explain away Lucifer’s face, which still looked bruised, whatever Lucifer claimed about his healing? Decker would never let them get away with it; she’d probably launch some kind of embarrassing investigation. Indeed, he grasped for anything, however troublesome, that would take his thoughts away from his feelings for Lucifer.
“You don’t get out of it that easily,” said Lucifer. “I said you must act on whatever you desired when you came clean with me. You came clean that you wanted a date, and so—”
“Whatever,” said Pierce, turning his back to Lucifer, playing it cool. His pulse raced despite himself, as if they were still in the throes of lovemaking. He hated admitting it, but yes. He still very much wanted to take Lucifer out. Although right now, he needed to get away from him, before he provoked Pierce into doing anything else he’d regret.
Pierce opened the door of the interrogation room. Outside, the entire office fell silent save the shuffle of police personnel, who had been gathered together in gossiping huddles, sidling conspicuously back to their desks.
Nobody looked his way. Nobody seemed to even dare breathe. Ella Lopez, hurrying back to her lab, looked as flustered and pink in the face as Pierce knew he surely must be. Espinoza stared at his computer, looked as pissed off and angry and Pierce knew he ought to be. Decker’s expression was studiously blank.
Lucifer whispered in his ear, his breath hot and balmy on Pierce’s neck and setting each hair on end. “Ever so sorry, Marcus, but I think they heard us after all.”