Chapter 3 I'M SORRY, DADDY.

I forced my stubborn eyes to lift, even though every part of me screamed to look away.

The Devil stood there, leaning lazily against his desk, watching me like I was his favorite sin. He was... breathtaking. Too beautiful to be real. The heavens had crafted him to be an angel, but he spit in their face. He chose chaos over purity. Destruction over peace.

That all-black suit molded perfectly to his tall, muscular body, hugging every hard line of him like a second skin. The crisp fabric whispered with every small movement, looking soft but sharp enough to cut. His silver-blue eyes stared through me, cold and empty like frozen oceans, dragging me under with no escape.

And yet... something dangerous flickered in those depths. That cruel glint I had seen so many times before... right before punishment... right before pain. It made my throat tighten, made heat flood between my thighs even as fear crawled up my spine. I hated it. I hated how my body responded to him while my mind screamed to run.

His lips-God, his lips-stayed set in a straight, unkind line. Those lips had only kissed with cruelty, only whispered punishments... yet I still wondered how they'd feel pressed against my throat, against my chest, against places I shouldn't even imagine. My cheeks burned, but my thighs pressed tighter.

His dark hair fell to his shoulders in soft, thick waves. Clean and silky, yet heavy with the weight of every sin he committed. Every inch of him screamed power, danger, possession. He stood tall-six foot seven of muscle and lethal grace. The kind of man who made other men shrink into the background. The kind of man who made women forget their common sense.

He didn't need to speak often. His stare told me everything. My skin prickled under it, my nipples hardening beneath my thin dress, my thighs clenching tighter. My body remembered the lessons before... the rough grip of his hands, the heat of his mouth, the burn of his punishment mixed with forbidden pleasure.

His voice finally came, soft and smooth, but it slid over me like silk wrapping around my neck. "I heard you had a little chat today..." he said, swirling his whiskey, his stare never leaving me. "With a boy."

My stomach twisted. I knew the bodyguards betrayed me. I knew Varto would sell me out the second Lucifer gave him a look. My cheeks burned hotter, my head lowering as I whispered, "Yes... daddy..."

His fingers kept circling the rim of his glass, slow and lazy, but I caught the flex in his jaw... the warning.

His eyes sharpened, his voice dropped, dark and heavy. "I heard something else, too." His grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, wicked and hungry. "That you smiled... that you giggled like a needy little girl... like you enjoyed it... like you wanted him. Is that true, princess?"

I gripped my dress tighter, trying to ground myself. I couldn't lie. Lying only made it worse... and sometimes, he liked it when I confessed my sins. My chest rose fast, my voice coming out shaky, soft. "Yes... daddy... it's true."

Silence fell like a heavy blanket.

Then... the soft scrape of his chair. My spine straightened on instinct, heart slamming in my chest. My nipples ached, my thighs shook, heat pooled dangerously low in my belly. His footsteps circled me, slow and purposeful, like a lion circling his prey.

"Liloco knows..." his whisper brushed my ear, sending a shiver down my back, "she's not allowed to play with boys."

I gasped when his fingers traced my bare shoulder, dragging softly down my arm before dipping beneath the thin strap of my dress. His breath brushed my neck, hot, thick, making goosebumps rise on my skin while my core throbbed with aching need.

"She knows what happens when she breaks daddy's rules," he murmured, his tone dark, full of promise.

I whimpered. My legs pressed together, desperate to hide the wetness slicking my thighs. My breath quickened, my body burning under his touch.

"I... I'm sorry... please," my voice trembled as my back arched helplessly toward him. "I... I didn't mean to upset you... I swear... I won't do it again... please, daddy... don't be mad."

His hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to make me gasp. His lips brushed my ear, his voice thick with heat.

"Oh, baby girl," he purred, "I'm not mad... I'm hungry."

My voice sounded weak and pathetic. My heart dropped lower as I waited for his next action.

He let go of me "Did you enjoy his company?" His voice stayed low and calm, each word smooth and steady like a blade against my skin. His tone betrayed nothing, but I could feel the storm hidden beneath his perfect mask. My heart pounded, sharp and painful, making it hard to breathe. This was a test-a dangerous trap I could not afford to fail.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to obey. "No..." I whispered, my throat tight.

It was a lie.

I did like Jon. I liked him more than I should have. But it didn't matter. I had no right to like anyone else.

I belonged to someone else. I belonged to him.

Lucifer owned me.

"Good girl," he breathed against my ear, his words sending a shiver racing down my spine. His thick fingers slipped through my hair, slow and lazy, massaging my scalp like I was nothing more than a pet beneath him. "Because I'll crush anyone foolish enough to take what belongs to me," his voice rumbled, deeper now, laced with heat and warning. "Next time... I won't be so forgiving, understood, little angel?"

"Yes... yes, daddy... I understand," I gasped, my voice trembling as I gave him what he wanted.

For a brief second, I felt relief when he leaned back in his seat, his grip loosening in my hair. But it didn't last.

His cold eyes sharpened, pinning me in place, and his palm tapped his thick thigh. My stomach dropped.

"Come here, princess," he ordered, rolling up his sleeves, his tone smooth but carrying the sharp edge of danger. "Bend over daddy's lap for your punishment."

My whole body tensed, but I stood, swallowing my fear. I walked straight to him, each step making my legs weaker. Like a lamb walking into the lion's jaws.

His eyes devoured every part of me. I dropped to my knees, bowing my head, letting my hair fall forward to hide the heat rushing to my cheeks. His large hands circled my waist and dragged me over his lap like I weighed nothing. My chest pressed into his firm thigh, the heat of his body making my skin burn with anticipation.

I knew what was coming.

So did he.

His hand slid up my bare thighs, strong fingers parting them slightly as he dragged my nightdress up higher, bunching it around my hips. My breath caught as the cool air kissed my now exposed flesh. My core clenched, body betraying me, pulsing with need. I felt too bare, too vulnerable, but the heat pooling between my legs only worsened.

I glanced up, locking eyes with him. His stare was sharp and hungry, like a predator about to devour his prey. I whimpered when his hand left me for a second, only to hear the drawer beside him open.

A soft gasp escaped my lips when I saw it... the black paddle. Thick, smooth, heavy in his grasp.

I thought it was gone.

I turned my head, pressing my cheek against his thigh, gripping his leg tightly as my pulse raced. My thighs quivered, my core throbbing with a dangerous mix of fear and forbidden excitement.

"This is your only warning," his voice dropped, thick with promise and punishment. His palm rested on the curve of my ass, squeezing softly before sliding lower, teasing the sensitive skin between my thighs. "Next time... I'll make it ten times worse."

His fingers dipped between my legs, finding my slickness with ease. His chuckle rumbled through his chest, dark and pleased.

"Naughty little angel... already so wet for daddy's punishment."