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A groan tore up my throat and echoed off the ceiling when his mouth covered my pussy in quick, greedy sucks. “Death,” I breathed and wasn’t sure what I was asking for, wasn’t sure I was asking for anything at all.
His warm hands came to my thighs, cradling them as he ate Tor’s cum from my pussy like he had with Misery’s. A low rumbling sound filled the back of his throat like he loved it. His eyes flicked up to mine when he trailed his tongue from my entrance to my clit, circling it as his mouth stretched into a smile.
“You gonna give me an orgasm, little one? It doesn’t seem fair that Tor got two from you and I got none.”
“Just one,” I warned, remembering the intensity of coming over and over and over for Miz. I loved it, and wanted to recreate it, but god, not the morning after. I was still recovering from the way it beat up my clit and my soul simultaneously.
“One is perfect,” Death breathed, that gentle, praising tone making my cheeks flush with heat. “You’re so good for us, Cat,” he said, licking up the arousal that dripped from me. “You took Tor’s cock so perfectly.”
“Made for us,” Tor input breathlessly.
“Definitely,” Death agreed, and licked a broad stroke up my pussy, making every place he touched tingle. “You were made for our cocks, weren’t you, little one? Not because of any fucking curse; because of you.”
The words hit my insecurity and blasted it to pieces until I was smiling, melting into the table again and not particularly caring that its hard edge dug into my thighs.
“Yours,” I agreed on a breath.
“Our wife,” Death rumbled and made my hips jump when he closed his teeth around my clit. His hand splayed over my stomach and pushed me back down, and it was so hot I came there and then. “Our good girl, coming so prettily for all of us.”
Hazy and pleasured, I thought he meant that I’d come for them all separately until Death added, “Clean off Tor’s cock, Miz.”
I prised my eyelids open to watch Misery round the table, his body rife with tension. Insecurity came roaring back, but Death’s gentle kisses along my inner thigh kept it from sinking its claws all the way. I didn’t look away as Miz dropped to his knees before Tor’s chair and cleaned his cock of both his cum and mine. It was the tender way Tor’s fingers sank into Miz’s pale hair that held my attention, and the way all that tension bled from Misery at the single touch.
He slid his mouth down the thick vein in Tor’s cock and held eye contact with me the entire time. When he was done, he drew back and said, “Get dressed. I’ll take you back to Ford.”
I was a little stunned by the eye contact but mostly amenable because of the orgasms, so I hopped off the table and went to find my clothes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CAT
Miz was lucky I didn’t break his nose; my hand curled into a fist, itchy with encouragement, and the dark voice in my mind whispered he deserved to bleed. I cast a sideways glance at him as we walked across the park in the heart of Ford’s campus, and wanted to rearrange his entire bone structure. The least I could do was shatter his glasses and make his vivid blue eyes bleed. He’d adopted the form of the psycho he wore when he shoved me into the alcove, and I seethed with anger.
Last night hadn’t warmed me to him at all, no matter how sweet he was with Peach or that he’d claimed to make to come to stop my grief over killing Darya. I didn’t buy it. Miz was all about control and dominance; I bet he never did anything for others without something to gain first.
“Problem?” he asked, glancing at me with nerves instead of the hostility he’d shown before. Sweat shone at his brow and neck, too, but that could have been because he was wearing a heavy wool coat straight off Paris Fashion Week and it was a rare scorching day in Ford’s End.
“Other than wanting to break your nose, no problem,” I replied sweetly, surprising myself with the cold bite of acid in my words. There was just something about Miz that riled me.
He laughed softly, but didn’t snap back at me, and didn’t taunt. I cast him a weird look, but I didn’t want to bring up the awkwardness between us. Clearly he had regrets about sleeping with me. And fine, let him regret it. He was the one who initiated it anyway.
“You can leave me here,” I told him for the second time as we neared Lawrence Hall.
To which he shot me the same scowl as before and said, “I’ll walk you to your door. Unless you want to give Nightmare a perfect opportunity to lure you away again?”
I glanced away, memories hitting me like daggers. Darya rushing after me, concern widening her innocent eyes. Nightmare ordering me to kill her. My hand burying a knife in my friend’s gut. The emptiness in her eyes.
I jumped when a cold, clammy hand wrapped around mine, and Miz squeezed hard. “The clarity of the memories fades over time,” he murmured. “It will always haunt you, but it won’t always hurt this much.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and didn’t know why he was trying to comfort me. “Thanks,” I said anyway, because his words gave me hope. I could barely breathe or speak around the knives inside my chest, and maybe I didn’t deserve it but I wanted to believe it wouldn’t always be this way.
“There, isn’t that your annoyingly upbeat friend?”
I glanced up, looking across the park where a few students mingled near the benches, more sitting on picnic blankets on the grass to take advantage of the good weather.
“Honey!” I called, and immediately wished I hadn’t when she turned, smiling wide enough to light up her whole face, and a tall, broad-shouldered man turned with her.
Alastor.
