His finger runs all the way up the crack of my ass and I hear the leather of his gloves crease as he adjusts his grip, parting my thighs.
Every part of me is on fire with anticipation, my breath coming short and sharp, panting like a dog in heat. There’s a possibility I might pass out.
Then he moves behind me, a rustling sound, and he places something next to me on the bed. I open my eyes, finding myself face to face with a grinning skull.
His mask. Oh my god, he’s taken off his mask!
I have to look. I have to know what he looks like, if only for a second.
But before I can even chance it, he grabs my thighs, yanks me back toward him, and buries his face between my legs.
I gasp loudly, my whole body flinching from the intrusion, but his grip holds me in firmly place.
Oh my god!
His tongue assaults me, making hard passes over me before flicking my clit over and over, causing my nerves to start spinning like a pinwheel. His tongue is long, thick and strong, moving with deft precision, sliding over the exposed part of me like he’s a panther lapping up blood. I don’t know what I was expecting from the God of Death, but I didn’t think he’d so readily devour me. Then there’s the rough scratch of his facial hair against my sensitive skin, something I never imagined him having.
Death groans, the sound vibrating through me, almost making me come, then puts his lips in motion. They feel full and soft and they suck at me, his tongue lashing with so much ferocity that I’m thrust forward, but his hands are a vice and they hold me in place. It’s messy and it’s raw and there’s no part of me that he’s not consuming.
My body doesn’t know what to do at first. It’s caught up in my mind, which is trying to remind me that this is the God of Death, that I’m his prisoner, his captive, to use at his disposal. But then the thoughts and worries start to leave my mind and my body takes over. My hormones have been whipped up into a frenzy by Death’s relentless attack and I’m starting to ache inside with the need for release. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before, to have my wants and desires take such control of me.
With another rough groan he thrusts his tongue in deep and I’m clenching around him, wanting more, suddenly feeling insatiable and greedy and out of my mind. My hands make fists in the velvet blanket, as if I’m trying to hold on or hold back, I can’t really tell.
He raises his head, breathing hard, and starts playing with me with his rough fingers, rubbing soft wet circles around my clit. “You taste better than honey,” he murmurs. “Rich and sweet enough for my morning coffee.” He pauses before flicking me. “So fucking creamy.”
Oh, mercy.
My cheeks flush. My whole body feels like it’s on fire.
I swear I hear him smile. A couple of fingers thrust inside me and I gasp, moaning, gyrating my hips against him to get more purchase. The texture of his gloves is rough and soft at once and I feel it all as his fingers drag against my sensitive spots. The ache inside me intensifies, my skin growing tight and hot.
“I had to get you wet enough to take me. But you’ll take me now,” he says hoarsely as he adjusts himself behind me and I feel the head of his cock tease at my entrance, the sound slick. He begins to push himself inside me and I’m sucking in my breath as he slowly enters me.
“Fuck yes, you’ll take me,” he grinds out, his fingers digging into my hips as he keeps squeezing himself in. “You’ll take all of me, every thick, hard inch of my cock until there’s stars in your eyes and no air left in your lungs.”
I’m already there. For a moment I can’t breathe, it’s like he’s filled up every inch of me with himself, and I’m stretched as much as I can go. He’s in to the hilt.
“Do you feel me?” he rasps, stilling behind me. “All of me? Can you take more?”
The fuck? There’s more?
I make a sound that sounds like yes, but before I can take it back, he pumps his hips against me, somehow driving in even deeper.
A cry strangles in my throat. Pain and pleasure blur, my eyes rolling back in my head and there’s no resisting this. I succumb to him and let go. In this moment, and only in this moment, I am truly his.
Death knows it. He unleashes himself on me. With his fingers bruising my skin, he slams in and out, his cock going deeper, somehow feeling even thicker each and every sordid pump. I’m like a ragdoll, at his mercy, bouncing on the bed, lost to his punishing rhythm while pleasure builds and builds inside my core.