A quiet groan escaped Lucifer's lips. As she moved, he thrust his hips, almost involuntarily. It was strange to think of Mary as a sexual being, even if he did find her sexy, but there she was, and how it delighted him.
His fingertips trailed down her body, mind afire with ideas of what he could do, what he should do, what, God willing, he would do. He reached the waistband of her jeans and toyed with her fly. Lucifer looked to Mary's face for approval, for recrimination, for anything to give him any signal of what she felt right now.