Pure bliss. This is the most decadent, indulgent pleasure I’ve ever felt.
“Fuck,” Death swears, his cock shoved in to the hilt. He exhales, his breath shuddering, making me shake beneath him, and he reaches out to grab my chin as he gazes at me. “This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I should have been seeing. This. You. Your face as you surrender.”
I can’t help but grin, my cheeks flushing with heat.
“Don’t be self-conscious,” he reprimands me, eyes gleaming. “I might have to punish you for it.”
“You know I can take it,” I manage to say, my voice thick, throaty, relishing the feeling of him so deep inside me. I reach down and grab his ass, all powerful muscle, and pull him into me so that he sinks even deeper.
God, yes.
He groans so loud that I feel the vibrations in my bones, the sound lighting me up, spurring all the desire inside me. We’re moving too slowly and I’m suddenly insatiable for him. I want him to fuck me, devour me, ravage me. I’m his prisoner, I’m his captive, I’m here to be fucked senseless. This is the one time I have no problems giving up power. Hell, I don’t even give it up, I readily shove it into his hands, wanting him to do his worst to me.
I want to take it all.
“I like it when you’re hungry,” he says in a husky voice. “I like how feral you become. There are so many sides to you, Hanna, I want to see them all come alive when I’m fucking you this deep.”
He pulls back, bracketing me between his massive arms, his muscles straining as he pushes himself in again, even deeper this time.
Fuck!
I try to watch, taking it all in like a show, even though my eyes keep pinching shut with each violent thrust. He’s fucking magnificent. The way his body is so perfect, his muscles larger than life, showcasing the pulsing runes of light that make him glow like the god he is.
Then his hips slam into me, hard, and I gasp, my fingers curling around the rug beneath me, and my eyes close as I let all the sensations wash over me like a tidal wave. The feel of his thickness inside me, his ragged breath as he powers through. The room fills with the smell of our sex, musky and intoxicating.
His rhythm increases, the pace getting faster, messier, his cock sliding along every coiled part of me. From the intense look on his face, his dark brows knitted together, the moans that are falling from his wet mouth, he’s as lost to the sensations as I am.
He spears me with his eyes, holding me hostage in their pewter gaze, until it almost feels like staring into the sun, like it’s too much for one person to handle.
Like there’s too much danger at stake.
Because of course there is.
I’m being fucked by Death.
All it takes is for him to get carried away, to get careless and lose control, and for a glove to slip off.
That would be the end of me.
The thought makes me tense, fear striking me in the heart.
As if sensing this, he reaches over and gathers my wrists together, moving them above my head, pinning them there. He holds me in place with his gauntlets, grip tight, as he pistons his hips faster. They slam into me, knocking the air from my lungs, relentless. The rug starts moving backward on the floor.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, breathless. I have to look away from his eyes, they’re wanting so much from me right now, not just my body but my soul.
Right now, I’ll give it to him.
I’ll give him everything to keep feeling like this.
Through sex with Death, I’ve never felt more alive.
It’s the act of creation coupled with the act of destruction.
It’s us, as undefinable as we are.
But there is an us here.
My eyes fall closed, letting the fear go, succumbing to every feeling; The rough fabric of the rug on my spine, the night air as it cools my flushed skin, the sound of his raspy breath, the squeeze of his cock as he thrusts inside me without mercy, again and again and again.
“Look at me, fairy girl. I want you to know who’s fucking you this ruthlessly.”
My eyes open and the look on his face has intensified, his forehead creased in concentration. For a moment, I can’t believe this is happening, that this man—no, this God—with his impeccable body, and those glowing rune tattoos that speak for all lives lost, is fucking me like this. Ruthless to the core.
“I want you to fly,” Death says through a rough grunt as his body thoroughly works me, every muscle clenched and strained. “I want to see your sweet face as you spread your wings, little bird.”