Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

woman.
    Flesh and blood, with a heart beating beneath the perfect breast around which his fingers still remained curled.
    * * *
     
    Luciana had the moment of orgasm down to an art. She knew exactly when to moan, how to writhe at just the right times, which muscles to tense and when to collapse, seemingly out of exhaustion.
    “Mio caro, I’m coming,” she purred loudly, at exactly the right second.
    He lay half sprawled over her afterward, utterly spent, with a small, satisfied smile on his face. For an instant, she resented him, because it was clear that the sex had been much better for him than it had been for her.
    And while Brandon was busy thinking of Eve, Luciana was thinking about Lilith.
    Before there was Eve, there was Lilith. Poor Lilith did not show up in the official versions of any religion. Her life was relegated to folklore, her history passed down through hearsay and whispered stories. According to these stories, she was Adam’s first wife, created at the same time as he was, out of the same earth. Created as equal, and not lesser than. Lilith had gotten tired of their banal monogamous sex life, and had run away from the Garden of Eden to seek a more exciting time among the demons.
    Lilith was not afraid to do what she wanted, to fuck whom she wanted.
    Lilith was known to attack men in their dreams.
    What would Lilith do now? Luciana wondered.
    Undoubtedly, Lilith would end Brandon. Swiftly, and without regret. She would reach under the bed, to where Luciana always kept a little bit of cyanide stored, for just such occasions. When a man was either asleep or nearly asleep beneath the silk coverlet of her sumptuous bed.
    And she would inject that poison into him.
    Even if he did not die, Lilith would have kept him captive until she could solve the problem with finality. Until she hit upon whatever she needed, until she found a way to do away with him permanently.
    That was what Lilith would do.
    But Luciana was not Lilith. Even after all the deaths she had caused, over hundreds of years, she still felt remorse.
    Here in her bed, Brandon’s big body rested beside her. Moonlight splayed over him, and in the dim light he looked almost like a young god sent down from the heavens.
    And yet, there was something so earthly about him, something so very nearly human.
    He was not the brute she had thought him to be the first time she had seen him.
    What is wrong with me? she thought, furious at her own reasoning.
    She reached under the bed, her fingers just brushing the plastic tube of the syringe tucked there.
    And at that moment, he pulled her toward him.
    “That was intense,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “It was mind-blowing.”
    “Mmm, yes,” she said, making a few vague sounds of agreement, trying to mask her ambivalence, thinking about making a second grab for the cyanide. “Like the fireworks all over again.”
    He sat up, his gray eyes illuminated to silver in the moonlight. “You didn’t come.”
    If she had not, it had not been his fault.
    In her experience, sex ranged from slightly uncomfortable to sometimes painful. With Brandon, she had hoped it might be different. The fact that it wasn’t was disappointing, but no great surprise.
    “Of course I did,” she said quickly. “You’re a phenomenal lover.”
    “That’s not the issue,” he said, something like anger edging his voice. “Don’t lie.”
    She shrugged, rolling over to reach under the bed once again.
    He stopped her, with a strange urgency in his voice. “Why did you fake it?”
    Because I always do.
    “Whether I did isn’t important, so I don’t know why you’re harping on it.” She sighed. “It was very pleasurable, mio caro. ”
    “What the hell is that supposed to mean? There are two of us in this bed. Sex is about connection. If you didn’t enjoy yourself…”
    “I enjoyed myself very much, amore mio. Thank you.”
    What about the cyanide? she wondered. She lay quietly on her side for a moment, still facing away from him. If she just reached a little farther, she could grab the syringe, and…
    “You know what they say,” he said, interrupting her thought. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
    She frowned. “That really isn’t necessary.”
    “Necessary? Not so long ago, you were the one talking about pleasure and letting go. Maybe you’re the one who’s all talk, after all.”
    “I might not be able to—”
    “Shh,” he whispered into her ear from behind, flicking