Revealing the Monster (Playing with Monsters #4) by Amelia Hutchins

“No,” I growled, but I was already turning toward Luc. His violet eyes scanned my face, watching the silent tears of frustration rolling down my cheeks. “Please stop, Luc. You don’t want to do this.”

“No, but I will enjoy it, Lena,” he whispered. His hand came up to cup my jawline, wrapping his fingers around my cheek. His lips lowered to mine, softly brushing across them as his tongue swiped against mine. I opened to his kiss, not because I wanted to do so, but because the furies were in control. “Come on, Lena. I won’t hurt you,” Lucifer growled, cupping me behind the neck to claim my mouth hungrily.

I could feel the anger pulsing from Lucian and Spyder. I heard angry muttered words and knew I was about to be dragged to Hell, literally.

I lifted my hands, feeling the swords within my palms, but before I could bring them up to fight against the Devil and Asmodeus, something slammed into the back of my head, and darkness rushed up to me, blanketing me in nothingness.





Chapter Thirty-Three




Lena’s here, finally—the one time she shouldn’t be. I crave her soft curves and the burning intensity in her gaze. She is everything I want and need. The only problem is she isn’t mine, and I know it. That’s half the attraction to her. She’s forbidden fruit, and it always tastes so much sweeter than the fruit you can have. ~ Luc



Consciousness went in and out, and I sense heat surrounding me. My eyes felt like they’d been glued shut, and my mouth was dry from the acrid taste of brimstone covering my tongue. I gagged, unable to prevent it from happening as I tried to get upright.

I lifted my hand, skimming my fingers over the giant goose egg on the back of my skull, and moaned in pain at the slightest touch.

I could feel the weight of Asmodeus’s stare on me without having to look at him. He had redressed me while I’d been asleep.

A soft, crimson sleeveless dress covered my curves with a silver necklace holding up the sheer material. Peering down at my chest, I rolled my eyes, finding my body exposed through my clothing.

“You’re so fucking pretty, aren’t you? Is that what they fight over?” Asmodeus’s deep, rich tone infiltrated my mind, forcing my attention to where he leaned against the wall of the room. “It can’t be your soul, as it seems to be missing. That’s how you ended up with the furies within you, isn’t it? Someone intervened on your behalf and saved you from death. What is so special about you that men are willing to destroy worlds for a single taste?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re rumbling on about or why you care. Just go away,” I groaned, still struggling to get upright.

“I don’t care, but I am curious why Lucian wants you. You see, he’s never wanted anything so mundane before. You’re beautiful; I’ll give you that. You look like you could suck a mean dick, but I don’t think either of them would start a war over some bitch with a mouth like a vacuum.”

“It’s my sparkling personality that they’re addicted to,” I stated, holding his gaze. Asmodeus wasn’t just good-looking. He was sexy, with a persona that screamed he’d fuck you while figuring out how best to dispose of the corpse when he was done.

“I heard you almost gave Lucian a child.” he persisted.

“Almost, but Lucifer and Katarina stole that from us. Any more painful shit you want to shove down my throat?” I asked, daring him to continue.

“My dick, but I’m afraid I’ll end up as inflicted and lovesick as those two assholes did with a simple taste of your honey pot. I bet it’s magical, isn’t it? A magical snatch, huh? One created by the Goddess of Magick to lure unsuspecting males in, trapping them in the vise before they even realize you’ve done it. Is that what it is? Part your legs, and show me what they have tasted, woman.”

“How about no?” I snapped, glaring daggers at him.

“Part her thighs for me, my pretties,” he growled, speaking to the furies within me as he slowly pushed off the wall, walking toward me.

Panic ripped through me as my legs were parted, covered by nothing more than the flimsy dress I wore. Asmodeus grabbed one breast, testing the weight of it in his palm. His thumb swiped over my nipple, chuckling wickedly as the peak hardened from his touch.

I held his stare, hatred and fear mixing into a glare that had him smiling in response. His lips lowered to brush against my ear.

“Can I fuck you? I hear you enjoy it, and even allow others to join you and Lucian in your chambers. I can show you Heaven, or I can show you Hell, little girl. I think you might even enjoy Hell. You strike me as the type of woman who fucks as hard as you fight.”

“You have a hand that would be more responsive to your cock than I will be. Use it and leave me alone. Or do you like forcing women to fuck you? Is that the only way you can get them on that dick of yours, Lust?” I challenged, watching as his lips jerked into a devastating smile.

“I am Lust in the purest form, Magdalena Fitzgerald. I am your darkest desire, and I am your most forbidden fantasy. I am what every male craves to be and what every woman craves them to become. You are wet for me. I can smell you and know exactly where and what you want me to do to you. I know because I am the emotion burning through your needy cunt right now. Those pulsing walls—they clench because I’m near. When you are wet, it is because I ensured women could become slick so that men weren’t forced to fuck a paper bag in the guise of a pussy. No one would enjoy sex if women weren’t wet enough to be pleasurable. Of course, I could have made it a useless piece of flesh, other than birthing a babe, but with the fallen wanting something off-limits to be sin, I forwent my first choice.” His fingers slid over the inside of my thigh, slowly trailing dangerously close to my sex.