My mouth fell open again, wide in a silent scream the moment he bottomed out. My grip on him tightened—that of my handsandmy body. My mind left me before I knew I’d even had it to begin with, and I came. Hard.
The waves of this orgasm rolled through me, tinged almost with an ache, the shock of its suddenness robbing me of awareness.
“Oh, fuck, Helena,” he groaned. “Again already? Starting to wonder if there’s going to be anything left of you.”
God, I hope not.
“Mmm,” he murmur-growled into me, nuzzling my neck while giving me another moment, perhaps, to adjust. “You’re in a world of trouble, aren’t you?”
Understatement. Had been for the both of us since the second that cold hand had caught me on that balcony. “Grim,” I said again, pleading.
“Oh, I will,” he promised with the next stroke, this one dragging and drawn out.
That bit of assurance, he’d uttered it like he understood my plight because it happened to be his, too. Like he was currently pacing himself in the act of killing usbothbut wanted to extend the sweet torture for as long as possible before annihilation.
I didn’t want to think about how that wasn’t so terribly far from the truth…
“It’s just that you feel so fucking good,” he said, his words frayed from restraint as he drove into me again, hips meeting once more. Sparks appeared in my vision. “Just… like… this.” He drew in another shuddering breath—this one laced with a hiss that sometimes accompanied the rushing of his shadows. “And I’mtryingnot to swallow you whole. But.” He stopped there, that bony hand hooked behind my knee tugging me to him, sending him in another impossible half inch.
A small “Ah” escaped me as he hit this new level of depth.
“That’s not a battle I’m gonna win,” he continued. “And… I am going to fuck youhardnow. Your job is to take it and, when you’re ready, come just like that again on my cock. Do you understand?”
God. I wanted him to talk this filthy to me every day.
“Do. You. Understand,” he repeated, human voice grated and strained, like I hadbetteranswer him. Forbothour sakes.
I nodded, slow and deliberate.
“Just let me have you when it comes,” he instructed. “Give me everything. All of it. All of you.”
Anything.
The tremble in his form abating, he assailed me with a series of gentle, even, and measured strokes.
This time, his monster’s voice moaned, the sound coming from nowhere and everywhere.
I keened, each entering plunge shattering my mind, every abandoning sending a sensation of electricity through my limbs.
Then his thrusts, like the pleasure, sharpened.
“Fuck, Helena,” he rasped as he dealt me one hard, fast blow after another, his voice dipping, shredding as, in the rawness of his pleasure, it shed its humanness halfway through my name, defaulting again to hisothervoice. The one that belonged to the nameless, faceless, hooded figure with the scythe.
That voice thrummed through my chest and straight between my thighs. Twined with his punishing rhythm, the rumble of that dark resonance hurled me toward the edge of another climax.
I reached for him, but he caught me by the wrists and, with another growl, pinned them on either side of my head.
Again and again, his hips snapped against mine, his cock slamming into me, the friction intoxicating, the heady euphoria building in my depths heightened by those eyes that held me down, too, while he delivered each blissful assault.
The fingers of his left hand, the one that pinned my right, lost their warmth, going hard, bony, skeletal.
His pupils widened like they, too, now sought to devour me, obliterating his irises to the thinnest of halos.
Then wisps of gray-black smoke unfurled from his shoulders while dark hunger swirled in those eyes—the monster part of him fully unleashed.
Couldn’tthisbe the way I went out?
Those wisps descended, tendrils driving into my chest, seizing my soul in their fierce, freezing, and greedy grip.
