"Never good," Lilith agreed and then nipped at his lip before he moved her. She followed Lucifer, her steps languid, her hips shifting beneath her dress, and then leaning in his doorway, smiling almost serenely at the tear-stained boy on the bed.

"I didn't ask," Lilith said, considering him. "But I'd say sixteen? So very pretty, however old he is." She leaned against Lucifer, her lips against his ear. "He said he'd sell his soul to touch me. Isn't that sweet?"