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“Think you can keep these legs exactly where they are, Ms. Townsend, or do you need help?”
Her eyes flashed. “Lara. My name is Lara, goddamn it.”
“And mine is…” Seth prompted with a slow smile. “Third and final chance.”
As if understanding what was coming, she fisted her hands in the duvet beneath her and shot him a sparkling, mischievous grin in return. “Thana—”
“Don’t even go there. Pick another name.”
“Oooh,” she purred salaciously, “is that a win for me, Mr. Death?”
Releasing her right thigh, he reached for his cock, fisting the thick shaft hard enough to squeeze precum to the tip. The pressure, the threat of pain, jerked his hips forward. “Absolutely not. I just hate that fucking name with a lifetime of disdain.”
“Aw, poor baby. Did all the other little angels and demons in kindergarten tease you? Or was it later on, when you were older? Were they mean to you? Call you names?” Her biteable bottom lip poked out in a pout. “Thanny the fanny? Thanatos the wanker toss?”
His hand paused, his thumb and forefinger throttling the angry crown. For a long moment, Seth simply stared at her. In all his centuries dealing death to humans, he’d touched the souls of women prettier than her, and those who weren’t. But in his eyes, as she looked up at him with her lips curved and her eyes glowing with humor, she surpassed any who had come before her, and any who followed after.
A laugh stirred under his breastbone, huffing softly until it popped free with dark and intimidating amusement. Slowly letting go of his cock, he stroked his fingers over the swollen prize between her legs, gliding through the slickness wetting her entrance, then gave her clit a sharp flick with his fingernail.
She yelped.
“Thanny the fanny,” he repeated, sounding the syllables out with precision. “Thanatos the wanker toss.” Another flick, another yelp. That sound, that beautiful fucking sound, stirred the darkness in him, feeding his craving for more—more pain, more whimpers, more of her in every way he could get his greedy hands on. “That’s some imagination you’ve got there. Has it figured out what I’m going to do to you?”
Lara swallowed. “It knows you have a dirty mind.”
“Dirty, sadistic, inventive.” He flicked her again, then used his fingers to spread open those puffy labia, exposing the tender tissues already a deep and lustrous pink. She was wet, delightfully so. Natural lube glossed her pussy, her thighs, his hand. “It really is a shame that this sweet little cunt isn’t going to stay so pretty.”
“Oh boy,” she muttered.
“Are you sure you want to waste your last guess on that ridiculous name?” Seth asked her for the final time, taking his cock back in hand and running the crown up and down the glistening slit beckoning for him. Liquid heat almost made him lose control then and there, and he found himself exerting subtle pressure, notching the head into her, just barely.
Her moan was as longing as his.
“No one ever said I was smart. I’m sticking with Thanatos.”
Wrong answer. Part of him was slightly disappointed she hadn’t beaten him, that her soul wouldn’t have the opportunity to go back to the mortal world and spread her strange brand of joy far and wide. That she didn’t know his real name, or somehow magically possess a piece of him that might keep her bound to him.
The resigned, withered part of him seeding down in the depths of his being, the one spreading its roots with every century that passed, was just relieved that he could fuck her and send her on her way, to do whatever her soul was assigned to next.
Seth let his weight fall forward, keeping her left thigh pinned to his side. He heard her whimper as his cock forged inside her, stretching her open as his palm slammed into the mattress beside her head. Before she could wriggle away from him, he shifted slightly, easing back until his knees propped against the edge of the bed, then hooked his right arm beneath her thigh and pushed it toward her.
With short, vicious jabs, he forced the girth of his cock into heaven, drawing more moans and whimpers from her like a magician yanking hapless bunnies from a hat. His lip curled as he filled her, adamant he would conquer that tight, spasming pussy rippling around his shaft before he was done with her.
She would take every inch with gratitude, and beg him for more.
“Why are you not illegal?” Lara moaned, her head tilting back into the bed, her neck arching enough to expose the delicate length of her throat—and the pulse bounding wildly beneath the skin. “This should be bann—oh fuck. Oh fuck.”
For the first time in a long time, his mind went blank. There wasn’t a single thought in his head about what he needed to do or where he had to go to collect the next soul. While time and its problems stood still in the world beyond these walls, his priority was using the willing human female beneath him in every way he could imagine.
The base of his spine tingled ominously, Orgasm hammered a fist on the door, but he refused to answer it. Not yet, not until he discovered what she felt like when she came, what noises she made when her pussy clamped down on his shaft.
“Ban me? Ban this?” Fingers tightening on her legs, Seth laughed through a grunt, rutting harder. He’d forgotten what warmth felt like, the effect of companionship and sex against loneliness. “Be quiet and open up this tight pussy. There’s a few inches left for you to take before you get to come.”
Lara twisted in his grasp. “That’s so unfair. A few more inches will—” she gasped sharply, moaning as he turned a few into two, “—make my eyes bug out.”
Feeling invincible, like a reaper in his sixth century, Seth shoved her up the bed, following her, unwilling to withdraw from her pussy for even a few seconds. Dropping her legs, he bent his head to bite at her throat gently, leaving light teeth marks and bruises on her pale skin.
“No bugging,” he ordered. “More whimpering.”
