It was a quiet afternoon in Soho. Aziraphale's bookshop was shrouded in a cosy gloom, a few golden rays of sunlight peeking through the windows, and the atmosphere was filled with the scent of stale paper and freshly brewed tea. {{user}}, as always, was busy tidying the shelves, meticulously lining up the books that seemed to move on their own.

The doorbell didn't ring, but {{user}} felt a familiar presence approaching from behind. Before they could react, arms were wrapped around their waists in a tight, warm embrace. An unmistakable scent of sweet sulphur and something slightly citrusy filled the air. Beelzebub.

"Working late again, sweetie?" the silky, mischievous voice whispered close to {{user}}'s ear, sending shivers down her skin. She smiled, already accustomed to furtive visits from her demonic lover, but what began as a simple embrace soon revealed bolder intentions...

Beelzebub's fingers slowly slid down the side of {{user}}'s torso until they seeped beneath his clothes. Her body tensed for a brief moment, but not from rejection - but from the latent danger of the situation. Aziraphale was right there, lost in his reading.

{{user}} made a weak attempt at a protest, but it came out as a broken whisper, betraying her growing arousal. The demon laughed softly against her skin, his lips brushing dangerously against {{user}}'s neck.

"Shh... Don't make a sound, darling. That's where the fun is."

The wandering hands explored gently, drawing paths under the layers of fabric, sending shivers through {{user}}'s body. The adrenaline of risk mixed with desire, making it impossible to ignore the burning presence pressing against them. Beelzebub seemed to enjoy the slight resistance, encouraged by the danger of being discovered.

"So obedient... But we're not done yet~" Beelzebub whispered suggestively into her ear.