Lucifer Reborn by Dante King (ebook reader play store .txt) 📕

Then pleasure coursed through me, and I realized something far stranger had just occurred.

Lilith—the same Lilith I’d just been speaking to—hung upside-down from the ceiling, her sinuous legs wrapped in long, dark belts that suspended her upright. She writhed against me, presenting her spread pucker for my cock as I plunged deep into her tightest, most forbidden opening. Lilith and I were fucking in mid-air. The wings I’d summoned in Wrath’s arena fluttered gently behind me, holding me aloft as I fucked Lucifer’s wife in the ass.

Holy shit, I thought, dazed. What is happening…!

“Harder!” the phantom Lilith whined, gagging around the word like I had my cock buried down her throat. Only I was fucking her ass. I glanced down, trying to get a better look at the gorgeous demoness, when I became aware that those weren’t belts around Lilith’s legs.

They were my tendrils. I’d summoned my shadow power at some point during this sex, and apparently I’d learned to use them to their fullest extent. A half-dozen of the thin, flexible tendrils wrapped around themselves like a coil of rope to pound her tight demon pussy, stretching her walls in multiple directions at once. More filled her mouth. It was these she spoke around: sucking and slurping at them with her long tongue as she spread her ass wider for me.

“Yesh, Luke, yesh! Ahh, I haven’t been fucked like this in centuries…!”

What was this? A vision of what was to come—a transmission from the Ghost of Booty Call Future? Was I really going to fuck Lucifer’s wife? Or was this some prank she’d beamed inside my head, trying to throw me off-balance?

The vision dissolved as quickly as it came, leaving me staring at the real Lilith. The demoness yawned theatrically, but the look in her eyes was heat incarnate. I crossed one leg over the other in my seat, hiding the bulge that had sprung up the moment the vision started. God damn that felt so real…

Christina stared at us both, looking from one to the other as I gazed into Lilith’s eyes. “Um, did I just miss something?”

“Nothing at all,” I said, blinking first. Christina didn’t need to know about this—I wasn’t sure anyone needed to know, in point of fact. Lucifer was my patron, the source of my powers. The idea that I might go to bed with his wife—might have insanely kinky sex with her using the very powers he gave me—would probably not endear me to the hearts of many demons.

I’d definitely be thinking about it later, though. In great detail.

“You’re set on inheriting his throne, aren’t you?” Lilith asked, a new emotion entering her eyes. I could tell she hadn’t quite made up her mind about me yet—although her sensual interest in me was beyond question, after whatever that was. “You haven’t changed your mind about that, have you, Luke?”

How could she even ask that? “Of course not,” I said, meaning it. “That’s the goal, Lilith. I’m a candidate for Archlord—and I intend to be the candidate.”

“Top of the heap,” Christina said with a laugh, squeezing my thigh. “King of the hill.”

Lilith pouted theatrically. Her bottom lip protruded from her coldly beautiful face, a gesture that didn’t suit her at all.

“My poor husband,” she whimpered, her shoulders beginning to shake. “I can’t believe he’s on his way out the door! My husband, the Prince of Darkness, shuffling off this mortal coil and leaving Hell without a leader! Oh, what shall I ever do without him…!”

 You don’t give a shit, I realized, trying not to stare. It couldn’t have been more obvious that Lilith’s distress at Lucifer’s impending demise was faked. Despite her great beauty and presumably consummate power, acting was not one of her strong suits. Christina felt the same thing; her smile froze on her face, a little of the starstruck expression she’d had since she met Lilith fading.

 Again I asked the question I’d posed to Mareth and Christina—as one of Lucifer’s wives, Lilith might have a better answer than most. “Do you know why he’s dying?” I asked, shaking my head back and forth as I set the now-empty mug of coffee on the edge of the desk. “Does anyone?”

“If he knows,” Lilith said bitterly, “he certainly hasn’t confided in me.”

 Maybe you have something to do with it, I thought. But even as the idea occurred to me, I dismissed it. Not that Lilith didn’t have a motive, or something to gain from Lucifer’s death. But she was functionally trapped inside the Infernal Academy: like a bird in a golden cage. I couldn’t see her having the means or the opportunity to strike down the Prince of Darkness.

Besides, it almost felt too easy. Any good detective always suspected the spouse in a murder case, but this felt too obvious. Too out in the open. So much so that I intended to ask Lucifer the next time I met him, just to clear it up. Either way, the next time I found myself face-to-face with the Devil, I intended to get some answers.

“No one knows the day or the hour when the Prince of Darkness will finally cross over for good,” Lilith explained, her tone solemn. “Which is why it’s important to me that we have an heir in place when Lucifer finally does die. Hence, the Archlord trials.”

It took a few seconds for the implication of this to sink into my brain. “Hopefully we’ll have enough time,” I said, glancing at Christina to confirm. “I can’t believe I never asked this before—is the Infernal Academy a four-year institution? Most colleges are, but I’ve never been to one in Hell before.”

Lilith nodded as if she’d expected this question. Finally, we were back on firmer ground—I could sense our little detour about Lucifer’s mortality had