Lucifer: Godless Reawakening-Chapter 233: I want you**

Emma didn’t know when the hallway had blurred into his bedroom door, or how her fingers had found the knob.

All that existed now was William—his scent of cedar and clean skin, the steady heat radiating from his body, the low brush of his breath against her mouth.

Her back met the closed door with a soft thud. She tilted her head instinctively, offering more of her throat as his lips mapped a slow, deliberate path along her jaw, beneath her ear, down the sensitive column of her neck.

Each kiss pressed harder than the last, leaving a faint wet heat that made her shiver. Her pulse hammered beneath his mouth; she could feel it echo in the hollow of her collarbone.

"Emma," he murmured, voice rough and low, lips brushing the shell of her ear. The sound of her name in that gravel tone sent a fresh wave of warmth curling low in her belly.

She lifted her gaze. Golden hair fell across his forehead; his eyes—dark, passionate, almost reverent—locked on hers. William cradled her cheek with one broad palm, thumb tracing the delicate line of her lower lip.

"Emma..."

She answered with a kiss; soft, barely more than a brush of mouths. Innocent and sweet. Exactly like her.

He exhaled against her lips, a quiet, hungry sound, then tilted his head and took the kiss deeper. His tongue slipped past the seam of her lips, slow and coaxing, tasting her with unhurried patience.

Emma’s breath hitched; her fingers curled into the front of his shirt as she opened for him, shy but eager. Their tongues met—soft slides, tentative strokes—and she whimpered at the intimate glide, at the way he drew her lower lip between his teeth for the gentlest tug before soothing it with another slow lick.

His free arm coiled around her waist, pulling her flush against him until there was no space left between their bodies.

She could feel every hard plane of his chest, the rapid thud of his heart slamming against her own. Her hands slid upward, palms flattening over his pectorals, fingertips tracing the frantic rhythm beneath fabric and skin.

He groaned into her mouth—and the sound vibrated through her.

Emma’s knees trembled. She sagged forward; he caught her effortlessly, one arm tightening around her middle while the other drifted lower. His palm settled over the curve of her bottom, fingers splaying wide and hungry.

He kneaded softly, she gasped softly against his tongue.

Instinct took over.

Her thighs parted; she hooked one leg around his hip, then the other, locking her ankles at the small of his back.

William’s grip shifted instantly—both hands cupping her backside now, lifting her with ease. She felt the flex of his forearms, the controlled strength in his shoulders as he carried her away from the door.

William eased her down onto the mattress with careful reverence, the sheets cool against her heated skin. He followed, bracing himself above her on forearms corded with tension, knees bracketing her hips.

"Now..." His voice was a low rasp, thick with something darker than desire. "Let me see what that bastard has caused you."

His fingertips ghosted along the leather of her belt, tracing the buckle with deliberate slowness.

Emma’s breath caught—nerves and want twisting together in her chest. She had never been bare like this, never offered herself so completely.

Yet the man above her was William. The one person whose hands she would let touch every hidden part of her without hesitation.

He is the one, she knew. The one she was waiting for.

He unfastened the belt with a soft metallic click, then moved to the tiny buttons that marched down the front of her dress.

One by one he worked them free, each pop of thread through fabric sounding impossibly loud in the quiet room. Pale skin bloomed beneath his fingers—creamy, soft, rising and falling with her shallow breaths.

When the last button gave way, he gathered the fabric at her shoulders and tugged gently downward. The dress slipped past the swell of her breasts, pooling at her waist like spilled moonlight.

They rose proud and full—perky despite their generous weight, buds already tight and flushed from the cool air and his gaze alone.

William’s eyes darkened, pupils swallowing the gray until only hunger remained.

He didn’t touch them yet.

Instead his attention caught on the thin, jagged scar that sliced down the outer curve of her left breast—pale against the soft rose of her skin, a cruel reminder etched into her body.

His jaw clenched briefly but then he calmed himself down.

He dipped his head, golden strands brushing her collarbone, and pressed his lips to the smooth underside of her breast, just above where the scar began.

The kiss was slow, open-mouthed, warm. Emma gasped—sharp and involuntary—as heat bloomed outward from the point of contact, racing straight to her core.

He lingered there, tasting her skin with the flat of his tongue, tracing the gentle underside in a lazy, reverent arc. Then he moved higher, following the scar’s path with featherlight kisses, as though he could erase every inch of pain it represented. Each press of his mouth felt like worship and possession at once.

Emma’s fingers slid into his hair, trembling. She arched—just a little—offering more without words.

His hand finally rose, cupping the unharmed breast with exquisite care. His thumb circled the peak once, twice—slow, teasing—before he closed his lips over the nipple he had kissed so tenderly below.

The wet heat of his mouth made her whimper.

He sucked gently at first, then deeper, tongue flicking in soft, insistent strokes while his other hand slid to her waist, anchoring her as her hips lifted instinctively toward him.

Their eyes met again when he lifted his head—hers glassy with need, his burning with barely-leashed restraint.

William calmed himself down a little, his mouth parting from the treat, leaving her gasping and moaning for more.

Leveling his eyes with hers, he cupped her cheek and said, "My lovely Emma...I am barely keeping myself tied to a thin thread. If you are unsure then say now or..."

"I want you, William Delimore. My body, my soul, my heart...it’s all yours. And I want you to claim every bit of it tonight."

She kissed his hand tenderly, her lips lingering just a bit long, but that single second longer sent a pulse racing down before he heard her saying,

"Make me yours...darling."

And...it snapped.

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A/N:- Thanks for reading. This will go a little longer since it’s their first time. Drop a comment.