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Maze grinned as she cut the engine of the Aston Martin. Lucifer would be pissed if he knew she was driving it, but he was in Hell, something which she was still pissed about, so she figured it made them even in some way. She swept her eyes over the front of the house and snorted to herself as a glimpse of movement caught her eye. These celestials all thought they were so clever, but the truth was they were just as predictable as the humans they enjoyed looking down on.
She slipped into the house, glad that she’d stopped to change her clothes before coming here. The heels she’d been wearing earlier would have given her away. The thigh-high platform boots she had on allowed her to silently move around on the marble flooring, not to mention they looked hot as Hell with the black leather micro-skirt she’d opted to pair with her sheer lace halter.
It had been years since she'd been to the Hollywood Hills property; since Decker had come into the picture the frequent sex parties that used to take place here had ended. She rolled her eyes, one more way Decker had disrupted up the flow of her life. She quickly located him right where she'd expected him to be, standing on the balcony, a glass in hand and a closed, unreadable expression on his face as he stared out at the lights of the city. She moved silently through the living room so that she stepped onto the balcony behind him. She was surprised, perhaps even a little impressed, when he addressed her.
“Hello again, Mazikeen. I admit, I didn’t expect you to track me here. At least not so soon,” Michael said without turning to look at her. He lifted the glass of gin to his lips and took a slow sip.
"News flash, I'm a bounty hunter, tracking people down is kind of my jam," she shot.
“So did Chloe find you and let you out after I left?”
Maze scoffed. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself,” she snapped as she approached him.
“Oh, I have no doubt that you know how to handle yourself,” he snarked as he now turned to face her.
“I see Decker figured you out,” Maze observed as she noted the bullet holes in the pants and shirt he hadn’t bothered to change. "Too bad bullets don't actually do anything against celestials."
“She’s quite clever. Turns out she’d realized early on that I wasn’t my brother and had been playing me while I was playing her. I have to give her credit, she figured me out before I realized what she was up to, so good for her,” he sauntered to the bar and refilled his drink, pouring a whiskey and bringing it to Maze.
“I came here to kick your ass, not have drinks and talk about the fact that you got outsmarted by a human,” she remarked as she took the glass he held out to her.
“Well, I did leave you tied up on the floor of a closet, so I suppose that would be warranted,” he conceded. “But let’s not pretend like either of us was innocent in any of what happened. You knew my plans and you were fully onboard until you figured out I was planning to screw Chloe.”
“That was crossing a line and you know it,” Maze said.
“Agreed. Though in my defense, Chloe was actually the one who gave me the idea when she decided to start playing the seductress. I had no intention of screwing her or anyone else before she played that card. Again, credit where credit's due. She managed to throw me for a loop with that one,” he acknowledged. He chuckled quietly and took another drink. “Turns out when she saw you on my lap was when she was sure I wasn’t who I claimed to be. I guess she decided to fight fire with fire, fake flirting in response to fake making out.”
Maze snorted as her mind flashed back to straddling him on the edge of Lucifer’s bed, the way his hands had moved on her and how his body had responded to her proximity. “Your dick didn’t seem to think it was a fake-out session.”
He leered at her. “Well, physiological responses aside, we both knew what we were doing. And we both know damn well I wasn’t the only one who had a physical response to that entire situation.”
Maze smirked. He wasn’t wrong. Straddling him, kissing him, grinding on him… The flood of memories that had been triggered definitely had her missing the days before Decker had come into Lucifer’s life. “What can I say? Your brother and I have a very long history and a lot of it involves screwing. Muscle memory is a thing and you two are twins after all. Not a surprise that grinding against your hard on would get me hot and bothered,” she remarked flippantly.
“So, I was right, it wasn’t just me getting caught up in the moment,” he quipped as he arched an eyebrow at her. He had moved closer as they spoke and was barely a foot from her. “Well, now I almost regret that Chloe showed up when she did.”
“Oh please… You and I both know you wouldn’t have closed that deal,” Maze challenged him, her pulse racing at the way he was looking down at her. There was a hunger in his eyes that she recognized well, especially when it was burning in those dark brown eyes, so like his brother's.
“You might be surprised what I would or wouldn’t have done,” he countered.
“Typical virgin posturing. Claiming after the fact that you were down to go further,” she rolled her eyes. She could feel the heat radiating off him and knew she was pushing the limits of whatever this strange dance was. She should just do what she’d come here for; beat him to within an inch of his celestial soul leaving his body and move on, but the draw was so strong, and it had been such a long time since she’d banged an angel…
“You underestimate me, Miss Mazikeen,” he almost purred the words.
“Is that so?” she asked, though it took a conscious effort to keep her voice level. The rush that coursed through her shot down her spine like lightning sparking a wildfire. She’d gotten pretty good at reading people, and angels for that matter, over the years. It had been far too long since anyone had properly subbed for her and the warm tone his voice had slipped into as he said ‘Miss Mazikeen’ had her nerves tingling.
“Obviously I don’t have my brother’s body count, but I’m nowhere near as innocent as you presume I am.” He smiled down at her then killed his drink. “Lucifer’s not the only one who enjoys indulging in the pleasures of the flesh.”
“Well, even if you have been around the block a few times, I’m no human. Regardless of how capable you think you are, this is not something you’re ready for,” she commented as she swept a hand beside herself to highlight her body.
Michael chuckled. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re attempting to be coy and taunt me into making the first move because you don’t have it in you to take the lead or if you think you’re going to scare me into backing down.” He allowed his eyes to linger on her lips for a moment. “If it’s the latter, you’re definitely using the wrong tactic. You seem to forget; I use fear, I don’t succumb to it.”
She smirked, killed her drink in one gulp, then tossed her glass aside, hearing it shatter against something and not caring what it was. Again, it was something that Lucifer would be pissed about if he knew she’d done it, but she considered that a bonus at this point. She reached up and roughly grabbed a fist full of his hair. “Keep playing with fire and you’re going to get burned, angel boy.”
“That’s a big threat for such a tiny demon.” Michael sneered down at her as she snarled back at his words, twisting her fist in his hair. He knew he should have backed off, but the memory of the other night, the way it had felt when she was atop him, was simmering too hot in his mind, reminding him just how long it had been since he’d allowed himself some carnal indulgence.
Maze snapped her arm to the side and pushed him toward the wide couch that sat against the wall of the house. She knew he was playing along, regardless of whatever was happening between them, he was still an angel and more than strong enough to resist her. Somehow the thought caused a surge of excitement to race through her veins. She shoved him back onto the plush cushions and brought one knee to his chest leaning her weight on him.
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to be intimidated?” he mocked her. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as she leaned down so that her face was only a few inches from his own, pressing her knee sharply into his sternum. She wasn’t exactly smiling back at him, more like baring her teeth.
“No, this is the part where you stop running your mouth and put it to a much better use,” she told him. She flicked her tongue out to lick his lips and was caught off-guard when he snapped his teeth, catching the tip and biting it hard enough that as she straightened her posture she tasted blood. She maintained both their eye contact and her grip on his hair as she skillfully repositioned herself, settling on his face. “Now, let’s see if you’ve got half the skills you claim to.”
He kept his eyes on her as his mouth curled into a smile that she couldn’t see, though she likely felt it. He snaked his tongue between her folds and easily found the spot he sought. He saw the quick inhale of her breath more than heard it, her breasts heaving sharply as she reacted to the pressure he put on her clit. He fought the urge to chuckle at how she tightened her jaw and tried to maintain her air of control as he worked her in a way she’d obviously not anticipated he was capable of.
As he continued flicking and swirling his tongue, Maze couldn’t resist the urge to roll her hips in rhythm with the undulating muscle. She had to admit, he was better at this than she’d expected him to be. Much, much better actually. When his tongue slid further back to lap eagerly at the source of her wetness, she let a quiet moan slip from her lips. Shit. She heard the quiet hum come from him as he redoubled his efforts, his tongue sliding into her and triggering an instinctive bucking of her hips. Damn him.
She rode his face for several more minutes, then decided that she’d had enough of the pregame activities. There was a heat and an ache that was pooling between her legs that his surprisingly skilled tongue wasn’t going to satisfy. She lifted herself off his face and grinned down at him just in time to see him licking his lips, a sight which caused another flash of heat to shoot through her. Damn him straight to Hell.
She crawled backwards, slipping her hands between the buttons of the already ruined shirt he wore. She flung it open, the buttons scattering as she dragged her nails down the center of his chest. Now it was his turn to draw in a hissing breath as she left bright pink trails which she knew would soon blossom crimson where she’d dug in hard enough to break the skin. She glanced up to see an excitement in his eyes which reminded her of home. The realization that he liked the pain brought an almost cruel grin to her lips. Good, that knowledge would come in handy.
She made short work of removing his pants, though in truth she more ripped them off than removed them, but she wasn’t going to worry about semantics as she eyed him. A thrill of longing ran through her as she observed that they really were identical twins after all. She stood and slipped her shirt over her head and her skirt down over her hips, though she left the boots on.
“Stand up,” she ordered him as she took a few steps away. He rose then followed her as she made her way to the glass railing. She looked out at the city as she felt his hands settle on her hips. She pressed back against him, bending forward slightly, then looked over her shoulder. “It’s not going to screw itself,” she quipped. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “Shut up. I told you to fuck, not talk.”
His hands tightened on her waist at her words. She turned her face from him so that she was looking at the city again as he entered her. It was a good thing she’d looked away; had he seen the way she squeezed her eyes shut or how her mouth gaped open as her body stretched to accommodate him, he’d have taken it for the compliment it actually was. She was having far too much fun controlling the situation to allow him that kind of power.
As he continued to drive into her, she straightened so her back was against his torso. She reached up and again twisted her fingers into his hair, gripping it tight and pulling his mouth down to her neck. He wordlessly began biting and sucking on her smooth skin. On a whim she put her left hand on his and slid it up her body until it reached her throat. Again, he understood the silent instruction, his grip tightened enough that she felt another rush of heat rip through her.
She writhed, the motion shifting him within her as she pulled his hair hard and squeezed around him. She heard the low growl at the same time as his teeth bit down hard and his grip on both her throat and hip tightened. She knew he was already getting close, could tell by his pace and the tension she felt in his muscles. He and Lucifer really were two of a kind. A thought which probably classified as wicked occurred to her then.
She rolled her hips to a different angle so that as he drew back for another thrust, he slipped out of her. She lithely twisted and freed herself from his grasp. As she locked her eyes on his, the expression on his face was a nearly comical combination of confusion, frustration, and disappointment. His mouth pulled into a pucker, and she was certain he was about to ask what the Hell she had stopped for. Her eyebrow shot up and she brought one index finger to her lips. She heard the faint click as his teeth snapped together. Apparently, knowing the game wasn’t over was sufficient to quell his curiosity for the moment.
She grinned as she reached down, wrapped her hand around his shaft, then turned and began walking into the house. She heard him mutter something and squeezed her hand tight, her nails pressing into his sensitive flesh as she continued strolling along. He gasped and she was pretty sure he stumbled, but he didn’t say anything more, so she relaxed her hand to the casual grip-on-a-leash pressure she’d started with. As they made their way to the front door, she caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the windows; he had a wide smile on his face and his eyes were on her ass.
She led him out to the driveway, only releasing her hold on him when she reached the Aston. One of the benefits of the neighborhood was the fact that all of the properties were designed for maximum privacy. She leaned over the bright red hood, planted her hands firmly on the cool metal, spread her legs, and smiled back at him. “Continue,” she said simply. He didn’t need to be told twice.
She arched her back as he slid into her, his hands again braced on her hips. As he began thrusting into her, she pressed the heels of her hands hard against the hood and smiled when she heard the metal popping dully as it flexed. She caught a glimpse of Michael’s reflection in the windshield. He was watching her intently. “Don’t hold back now. Show me what you’ve got,” she told him.
A low groan escaped him, but before she could react to it, he took the opportunity to turn the tables on her. He pulled out, grabbed her, spun her around, and laid her on her back on the hood. He hooked her knees with his arms and pulled them up toward her shoulders with an agility that surprised her, before again sinking into her. She let her head hang back as the new angle allowed him to move more forcefully within her, now that she was braced against the buckling metal. She moaned and muttered encouragements as he continued, allowing herself to get lost in the moment.
She was close when she felt him begin tensing. She opened her eyes just as his wings unfurled. Her breath caught at the sight of him. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, his muscles rippled with the effort of maintaining their position, and his wings shimmered in the dim light of the night. She’d almost forgotten for a moment, let herself get lost in memories to the point where she’d expected to see those gleaming white feathers she’d watched appear so often. Lucifer’s wings were beautiful, she could admit that much, but Michael’s…
Michael’s wings were stunning to her eyes. They reminded her of the columns back home; dark, looming, and imposing, yet oddly comforting. The minimal moonlight reflected off the obsidian barbs, glinting and flashing a myriad of blues, indigos and rich violets. Even his damaged right wing reminded her of the jagged, jutting landscape of Hell. A primal sound escaped her as she watched the way they moved as he thrust into her, the sound causing him to fall over that edge. She was vaguely aware of the sound of metal being crumpled.
As he spilled into her, she shuddered and dug her nails into his arms, a string of Lilim curses and obscenities flowing from her without thought. Her body instinctively tightened, drawing a sound from him that was something between a groan, a growl and a sigh. She forced herself to relax as she felt the last shudders trembling through him.
He tucked his wings away as he slid out of her, then lowered her legs, stepped back, and held a hand out to help her up. Given the situation, the surprisingly polite gesture almost made her laugh.
She smirked as she took his hand and stood. “Okay, so maybe you’re not all talk and you do actually know what you’re doing with that thing,” she quipped, with a quick look down.
He chuckled as she sauntered past him. She retrieved her clothes and slipped them back on before returning to the driveway.
“Sorry about your car,” he remarked as he looked at the hood.
She examined it and smiled. Not only were there several dents and scratches in the hood, but there were two holes where the metal had been torn just beside the her-shaped dent in the center. The crumpling sound made sense now; he’d clenched his fists when he came, his fingers ripping through the steel like tin foil. Though it was cosmetic, the damage was significant enough to express how pissed she was if Lucifer ever returned from Hell.
She shrugged as she made her way to the driver’s door and lowered herself into the seat, making a conscious effort to ensure her skirt got pushed up behind her as she settled in. A semen stain on the driver’s seat seemed like the right punctuation to put on the evening at this point. “No worries,” she said casually with a final grin at him, “it’s not my car.”