The Devil's Mark (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty Two: The Morning After

Jason

I awoke the next morning wrapped in the arms of the devil himself as a patch of sunlight filtered in through the sea of windows. Lucifer was still fast asleep beside me as I carefully slipped out from behind his steel grip, wrapping myself in the bedsheet as I made my way over to the French doors that overlooked the city. But once outside, the city was alive with bustling activity. Sunlight appeared over the tops of the buildings as it struck the side of my face, embracing me with its gentle warmth as I walked to the edge of the railing and looked down upon the streets below.

Couples strode together in hand, shopkeepers sweep the sidewalks out in front of their shops as they kindly smile and wave to those who pass them by. It was to be another beautiful day in Rome and I was going to make the best of it. A patio area with furniture that went well with the small pool over in the corner looked inviting as I walked up to the couch and sat down, resting my foot on the edge of the coffee table. I leaned my head back against the cushion and closed my eyes, taking in the subtle sounds of the city while at the same time soaking up some much needed sun.

Nevertheless, my moment of peace and quiet was interrupted when the sound of padded feet walked across the terrace. I peeked through a small opening in my eye lash as Lucifer stood against the railing, his naked body looking almost bronze in the rising sun. The corners of my mouth lifted into a smirk as I found myself staring at his smooth, round ass. I shook my head as I tried not to laugh at the vivid memories of last night that came flooding to the surface. I looked at his back and remembered that I dug my nails into his skin. I expected to see scratches or in this case some residual bruising but there weren't any.

Glancing over his shoulder at me, Lucifer turned around, his morning wood making an appearance in the most delightful way. His body gleamed in the early morning sun as it showed off every crevice, every line of hardened muscle. His broad shoulders seem to block out the rays that were blinding my face allowing my eyes to readjust quickly so I could get a better look at him. Even his messed up bed hair added to the endless sex appeal that he was currently dripping in at this very moment. He came toward me then stopped, his eyes turning in the direction of our hotel room. Someone must be at the door.

I exhaled softly as I opened my eyes again, fixing the bedsheet that was wrapped around my upper body like a dress. Back in the room, I heard the door shut followed by a squeaky wheel as a member of the wait staff rolled in a cart of freshly laid out food fit for a prince and his entourage. While I was amazed to learn that Lucifer managed to find himself a pair of pajama pants before answering the door, he tipped the young kid a fifty dollar bill and sent him on his way with a pat on the back for a job well done. I removed the aluminum covering and found a plate full of bacon as I stole a piece or two and shoved them down my throat.

"Easy there killer," Lucifer said, coming around the corner. "Can't have my fiance choking himself to death before the wedding. It's unhealthy."

"Mmm." I grunted, trying to finish off what was left in my mouth. "Mmm. Mmm."

"What's that?" He smirked. "I can't understand you."

I swallowed hard, breaking off the last piece of bacon. "What I meant to say was, when is the wedding?"

Lucifer walked past me and sat down in the lounge chair next to the windows, his hands opening up the newspaper that was brought in along with this morning's breakfast. "Well, how do you feel about having the wedding outside? Or indoors? It doesn't matter to me either way. I'm just looking forward to the day when I can finally say 'I do'."

The pages ruffled as he turned them from one section to the next, blocking me from his view. I set down the piece of bacon that was still in my hand as I walked over to him and picked up the ends of the bedsheet before straddling his lap. Surely this was the only way to get his attention as his eyes appeared over the top of the Sunday paper. Casually and without his knowledge, our eyes remained locked together as I popped the bow on his pajama pants. The color in his irises were a smoldering burgundy red, not their usual fiery red whenever something pissed him off.