The cold marble of the floor pressed against Angela’s palms and knees, a stark contrast to the searing heat still radiating from her core. The dildo remained wedged deep inside her, a heavy, stretching presence that served as a constant reminder of Lucifer’s claim. She was shaking, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches, her mind a blur of shock and an unwanted, pulsing arousal.

Lucifer stood behind her, his presence like a mountain of shadow. He didn't rush. He enjoyed the sight of her—broken, naked, and trembling on his floor. He reached down, his large hand gripping the back of her neck and pressing her chest closer to the marble.