To say this was uncomfortable would be an understatement.
My leggings clung to the inside of my thighs like a second skin, and I felt as if I’d peed myself.
“You are the devil himself, you know?”
Luka chuckled, the sound low and deep, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Will you be the Lillith to my Lucifer?”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and his comment brought me pause and made me forget all about the annoying combination of feelings between my legs.
Luka was usually so closed off. He didn’t joke often, nor did I see too much of his personality, but these tiny glimpses flood my body with warmth, and I love it.
“If you beat me, I’ll be your Lillith, but if I win,” I stop in the clearing, rolling my neck, “You’ll be my slave.”
“Sounds like a win-win to me,” he shrugged, sliding his fin
