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“Still think you’re going to win,” she ground out, praying he would do something to appease the ache between her legs. “You’re not. I’m going to win my life and live it exactly how I want to.”
“Oh, sweet, innocent, naïve little female,” he purred darkly.
“Any other insults you’d like to throw in?”
“Why insult you when I want to be inside you?” Like icy magic, his thumbs tormented her nipples, circling them idly as he spoke. “You started this game, I’ll finish it, but you have every right to say no to me touching you. I don’t think you will, but the option is never closed. Offending you makes no sense.”
Lara was barely listening to anything but the smooth cadence of his voice. The words were neither here nor there, but the flow…oh, the flow could send a woman flying high or swooping low, spiraling in circles just waiting for the next unspoken command.
“Next guess, Ms. Townsend.”
Chapter Three
SETH
He held life in his hands.
Squirming, warm, real life quivering softly under his touch, cute little sounds of arousal playing as a soundtrack to her movements. She was a gift he was tempted to keep for himself, all wrapped up in a silk bow, with his name on the tag.
He wanted to slide his hand down the front of her jeans and cup her pussy, but despite her lack of protests so far, it was rude to even consider fingerfucking her while she thought carefully over her next answer.
The list pertaining to the outside world and its departing citizens was growing slowly longer, the details trickling down and sitting in his head like emails in an inbox. He would get to them as soon as he finished this brief break, return to the task of sowing grief around the globe, but right now all he really desired was a naked Lara and the rest of eternity to fuck her.
“Clay,” his little mortal blurted, almost making him laugh with the strangled sound she offered when he pinched her nipples.
Humming with black disapproval, Seth shook his head as he ran his finger beneath her impromptu collar, ensuring the silk tie wasn’t compromising her breathing. Up to now, he hadn’t received any orders from above regarding her future, but he doubted the powers-that-be would change their minds over her fate.
“You really aren’t any good at this game,” he mused, “and now you’re about to lose the rest of your clothing. But wait, your hands are tied. That must mean I have the honor of divesting you of everything you’ve got left.”
She smelled as pretty as she looked. He liked the way she had her hair in the braid, letting the locks stay loose so they covered her nape, then weaving into the golden rope draping over her shoulder. “Everything?”
“All you have.” Biting gently on the curve of her neck and shoulder, he stroked his palms down her sides to the waistband of her jeans, using his thumbs to run along the inside, all the way to the button. “Only one guess left. One wrong answer standing between you and me. One last chance to beat Death.”
“What, you’re not letting me have an extra one for luck?” Lara asked on a choked sigh. “That seems unsporting.”
“I could give you a hundred extra guesses for luck, and you’d still lose.”
She wriggled her ass against him, giving his cock several bad ideas about what it could to her precious derriere. “Still so sure you’ve got this in the bag. I’m going to surprise you, you know, and you’re going to be so fucking shoc—oh!”
Hot, wet, tight.
Though his back was to the fire, taking the heat, it was Lara who was melting from the inside out. She grunted in discomfort when his fingers pushed inside her, but he was lost in the sensations she gave him—swollen labia, silky wetness, tight muscles clamping down on his digits as he strove for another inch of bliss.
It seemed he’d been remiss in denying himself the pleasure of interaction. His cock was harder than it had been in decades, secretions already leaking from the tip and dampening his pants.
“What was that, Ms. Townsend? I’m going to be so fucking what?”
Her frantic mewling noises were extremely rewarding. It made him crave more, urging him to drive her further and see what else she could do. Hooking his fingers into the front wall of her vagina, he felt her spasm, felt the spasms ricochet into shivers that tormented the muscles beneath her skin.
This was a bad idea, a runaway steamroller heading straight for him.
Lara was his destruction, his ruination, but he couldn’t help toying with the notion of keeping her permanently. Unfortunately, permanently it would be. If she was the one destined to beak open the locks on his heart, he wouldn’t be able to let her go after fifty, sixty years, and the higher-ups would demand that she was returned to the fold.
The only way to make her his, to keep her safe beside him, was to kill her.
Stop her heart in her chest, and make her like him.
A wraith, passing through space and time, sowing seeds that were absolutely essential, yet blossomed into overwhelming pain and grief. Never touching life, existing outside reality, losing all the benefits of being human.
