Lucifer's Bride [Complete]

77

"Fine, then!" I snap.

I pull my hips back sharply, ripping them out of his grip. I glare at him and grab the sides of the tub and haul myself up. I swing my legs over the edge and hop off, landing gently on the slick tile. Cautiously, I spin around the tub and march towards the door, my body still starving but my mind completely fed up.

"Amelia!" Lucifer calls after me, confusion and pain in his voice.

I skid to a stop, glaring at him over my shoulder. "No! I've been through ten tons of shit tonight. All I wanted was a bath, some good, hot sex and a quick piercing. And you can't even manage all of that without trying to fuck with me!"

His eyes are a mix of confusion and irritation, as if I don't get his sense of humor. "I was just having a little fun."

I nearly explode. "Then have fun with yourself! I'm going to bed!"

I resume my angered marching, my mind set on leaving him in that corner so he can think about what he's done. My body is still on fire, but my emotions are far too volatile to allow for any make-up sex. If Lucifer won't give me relief, I'll head to bed and do it myself.

"Amelia! Come on!" He clambers out of the tub and starts to chase after me. "Come back."

He closes in on me just as I pass through the door to the bedroom. On fury-fueled instinct, I spin around, grab the edge of the door and slam it closed. I watch as it comes within millimeters of smacking him in the face, but I'm too pissed to care. I spin again, storming towards the bed with new determination. My body is craving release, and I'm gong to have it with or without his help.

I hear the door swing open behind me and smash against the wall. I do my best to ignore it, but a tiny spark of fear suddenly races up my spine. As angry as I am, Lucifer is an immortal with a legendary temperament. In a battle of pissed-off wills, he could crush me any day. That, and he's about fifteen times stronger than I am, so fighting back is a lost cause for me. I guess sex deprivation will have to do.

"Amelia." His voice is low, threatening anddeadly. "Come here."

I don't turn around, instead keeping my focus onthe bed. "Fuck you."

Oh, goody. Our first major fight.

"Amelia," he warns again.

"Stop it," I hiss back. "I'm notin the mood."

"I don't give a fuck. Get back here."

I don't give a fuck either.

I make it to the bed, still furious. I flip thesheets back, hop into the cool bedding and yank them back up, rolling onto myside so I don't have to look at him. This is ridiculous – us fighting over sexand making ultimatums – but I've been through hell tonight and he doesn't seemto care. As hard as it is to admit, I can kind of see why God kicked him out ofHeaven. He's gorgeous and intelligent and, at times, an amazingly lovingperson. But he's also got the attitude of a spoiled five-year-old mixed with aninch-long fuse. Not a good combination, and tonight I'm getting the full doseof Lucifer's tantrum.

I smash my head into the pillow and glare at thewall. There's silence on his side of the room, so I close my eyes and try toforce myself to sleep. It's always easier for me to deal with situations likethis after a nap – it gives me a chance to cool off and regroup my thoughts –so maybe we can talk this out like adults after we've have a moment to breathe.

I don't get my wish. My eyes still closed, Ihear soft footsteps cross the room and stop at the edge of the bed. Secondslater, the sheets are pulled away and icy hands have grabbed my ankles. I cryout in surprise as I'm rolled onto my stomach and twisted so only my torso andhead remain on the bed. My legs dangle over the sides, my feet barely able tograze the ground. Two loops of scorched black vines spring up from the floorand wrap around my wrists, pulling back so I'm held in place.

I panic and struggle against my restraints, fearreplacing any anger I once had. I knew pissing him off wouldn't be the bestidea, but I never thought he'd actually punish me.

"Lucifer!" I cry out, my voice filledwith panic.

"You're queen now. It's time I taught youabout respect." His voice is dark, almost malicious, tinged with an evilsmile I never want to see.

A heartbeat later, the palm of his hand comesdown on one side of my ass, smacking me hard enough to go beyond the normalsting. I cry out, both in surprise and pain. I realize now that telling him Ihated pain was a mistake. It's ammunition he can use against me if I get toofar out of control. Or, if I don't do what he wants, it's a tool he has to getme back in line.

A second smack, harder than the first, makes mecry out again. This isn't any playful punishment meant to tease me intosubmission. This is the real thing. He's pissed, and now he's got a way to takeout his anger.

"Apologize," he growls.

Another smack, this time on the other side of myass, catches me off guard before I can respond. My fingers dig into the sheets,still restrained by the vine-like restraints that hold them.

"I said apologize!"

Again, before I can speak, he rains down twomore hard smacks, one for either cheek. These are even harder, closer to abusethan punishment. Tears start to prick at my eyes, and I do my best to formulatethe words in my mouth.

"Damn it, Amelia! Say it!"

Another vicious smack causes my mind toshort-circuit. I now realize his new game: he smacks me every time I try to sayI'm sorry. In his fury-fueled mind, he doesn't actually want meto say it just yet. He wants to take out his frustration first, thenwecan start rebuilding out bond. He's probably so blinded by anger, he doesn'teven realize how hard he's hitting me. Unfortunately, that doesn't make mysituationany better, just more confusing.

I'm starting to cry at this point, burying myface into the sheets to muffle my sobs. This hurts, and I start toquestion if our marriage will truly ever work. He's got a much more volatiletemper than I do, and I'm probably the most insubordinate woman who's evercaught his eye. If this happens every time I mouth off, I may have to do theunthinkable and seek out a lawyer. On the bright side, I'm in hell, so findingone here should be insanely easy.

"Say it!" He sends onemore vicious smack and I break.

"I'M SORRY!" I scream itinto the air loud enough that people in Scotland are probably wondering who wasyelling.