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She moaned, protesting weakly against the rigorous tempo. An orgasm was rising too fast, and she wasn’t convinced her new lover would be able to hold off joining her in bliss.
“Beg me to fuck you harder,” he demanded in that rich, darkly superior voice she could drown herself in. “Beg me to let you come on my cock.”
Lara tried to break his grip. “I don’t beg.”
“My world, my rules.” The pace picked up, inexplicably amplifying the sound of flesh smacking on flesh, and the obscenely wet noises being forced from her pussy. “Beg, Ms. Townsend. Beg for your life.”
Shit was getting serious, she thought blindly, trying to arch to take him deeper. Her legs were shaking, her core was tender and bruised, and she swore on everything holy that if he made her wait to come, he would be in a world of pain—a world that didn’t run by his rules.
Her throat constricted on a quiet, desperate, “Please.”
Sweat trickled down her forehead, her temples. Soaked into the duvet along with her juices. Heart racing, blood screaming, eyes almost blind with the pleasure streaming into her consciousness.
She jolted, crying out as his mouth clamped down on her throat, latching onto the pulse point bounding beneath the skin. Hips jerking into his quickening drives, she tilted her head to give him better access, then let wave after wave of ecstasy brush over her when she heard him whisper, “Come.”
Death snarled, his teeth breaking her skin when he surged inside her to the tilt, rocking in time with the thick, fast throbs of his cock. Inside her, right at the heart of her, she felt the faintest chill for a fraction of a second before the remnants of her orgasm wiped her mind clean.
Chapter Four
SETH
Hell in a handbasket.
Barely able to hold himself above the woman who turned him inside out and weakened his control, Seth exhaled slowly, breathing through the phenomenal sensation of her pussy squeezing his sensitive cock. Staying where he was—however fabulous that might be—was not an option unless he wanted his briefly sated hunger to come back with a vengeance.
He was just getting warmed up.
Kissing her throat—and the bite marks he’d left in her delicate skin—he realized she wasn’t quite with him. Her big green eyes were half-closed, glassy, with the pupils dilated.
Apparently, his skills weren’t as rusty as he believed.
Easing off of her, he became fascinated by the slow ooze of his semen from between her swollen labia, the way it trickled out as a stark reminder of who she belonged to now. Part of him—a territorial, primal part—vehemently craved a child from their union, while the logical part shook its head in exasperation.
To start, he was Death, for fuck’s sake. His role in the hierarchy was monumental in mortals’ eyes, but in the grand scheme of angels and the rest of the upstairs politics, he was inconsequential to the majority of his siblings.
And then, of course, there was the small issue of creating a new life. His reason for existing was to end life, not bringing it into being. He had no idea whether what was produced in his loins would bear fruit, but the idea…the possibility…it was intriguing.
Fascinated by her form, he stroked his hand over her, sculpting her curves as her breathing slowed to normal. It seemed a shame to waste time simply observing her, but it was peaceful, almost soothing, to just be.
So soft, these humans. Malleable, breakable, extinguishable.
Fragility at its finest, yet they believed they were strong, tough, resilient.
Lara’s skin, for example. Durable, waterproof, regenerative, but far too easy to tear open with a sharp implement. Hell, he’d guided people to the next level who had opened their own veins with little difficulty.
Bones could break and shatter, snap with the right amount of force.
“That’s an ominous look,” Lara commented, her words slurring sleepily.
Seth altered his expression, smiling to conceal whatever she’d seen written on his face. “Ominous is my trademark. Living creatures run when they sense me coming, if they are smart.” He dragged his fingernails over her belly. “Survival instincts usually override everything else, and all they can think about is getting away from the approaching feeling of doom.”
Snuggling deeper into her padded nest, Lara returned his smile, her eyes darkening as though she knew the game they were playing now was completely different to the one they’d started. “Yeah, well, some colognes are just shit that way—one sniff and we run for miles.”
Cologne? More like body odor, he thought wryly. His scent wasn’t sprayed on, couldn’t be replicated by mortals with test tubes and ingredients. It was entrenched in every living thing, releasing once the heart stopped and the body—be it flesh, wood, or plant—began to decompose and reunite with the earth.
“You did not.”
“Perhaps I’m just smarter than everyone else.”
