In the end though, it’s all just a political move. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.
It doesn’t seem to matter much anyway, when he’s about to fuck me senseless against the garden wall.
Death lets out a moan that I feel to my toes and reaches down, swiftly unbuckling his pants while he continues to bite and suck at my neck, leaving bruises and marks.
“I’m going to make you my bride,” he says gruffly. “But first I’m going to make you come. Fuck you so thoroughly, you won’t be able to walk for weeks.”
He covers my mouth with his, his tongue violent and searching. His cock presses against the spot where I’m already wet, and when I shift slightly, it slides inside me with delicious ease.
God, I hate how much I love this, how much I need this.
He lets out a jagged breath and starts thrusting into me as I stretch around his thickness. I never imagined I could feel as full as I do with him, this feeling of being totally and completely whole. I moan lightly, feeling him everywhere inside me, each nerve glowing with desire.
His hips curl forward and he starts pumping into me, my back razed against the garden wall, but I don’t feel any pain. Even as the pace picks up and the rhythm becomes punishing.
He’s so hard, thick and stiff, shoving into a place so soft, raw and tight. Every muscle in me is tense to the point of shaking and each thrust undoes another part of me. I feel like I’m made of glass and I’m close to shattering, and that there’s a chance I may not be able to pick up the pieces after this. I may not want to.
He groans loudly now as he drives himself in harder, making me choke on my breath.
“Do you know that you’ll be a queen?” he rasps, delivering another rough, bruising kiss. “Do you realize you’ll wear a crown of crimson? You’ll be the wife of Death, revered and feared throughout the land.”
“I’m just a mortal,” I manage to say through a ragged gasp. “No one will fear me.”
“They will, Hanna. They will. Just you wait and see.” Then he bites my neck, sending shockwaves throughout my limbs. “You have no idea what you’re capable of but I’ll be the one to show it to you. Show you who you truly are.”
I whimper in response, my body so greedy and crazed for him and when he pulls his head back, he’s staring at me with so much intensity that I know he’s feeling the same way for me. He has to be.
It’s almost scary how raw this all feels. We are lost to our most basic instincts, sharing this primordial, animalistic desire to make each other come like crazy, to be so deep inside each other that we don’t know where one ends and the other begins.
It’s only when he’s fucking me that I stop feeling like his prisoner.
It’s only now I truly feel free.
Each powerful pump of his hips, each time his cock drives in deeper into my slick heat, each breathless gasp I make, each hungry groan that he makes, and I’m falling.
Cracking.
Breaking.
The glass shatters.
I give in to him.
Give myself to him.
Soul on a platter.
Ready for him to consume.
“Oh fuck,” I whimper as the pressure in my core tightens like a feverish spiral and my eyes pinch shut, my body pitching over the edge. I clutch him hard, nails digging deep.
“Fuck me!” I cry out and my words turn into a garbled mess as the orgasm crashes into me. My head goes back, my eyes opening to see the sky so bright beyond the looming darkness of the castle towers.
A sky of periwinkle blue.
I feel as free as that very sky.
Death is coming now too, a gorgeous, primal groan pouring out of him. Nothing has sounded sexier as he grunts into my neck, his forehead hot against my skin. His thrusts slow, then still, our chests heaving with our ragged breath.
A chilled breeze smelling of sea spray and garden mint washes over the open walls, cooling our heated skin. He pulls back and gives me a lazy grin. No, wait. It’s more of a smirk. I don’t think Death is ever lazy.
“There’s nothing more beautiful than this,” he says, brushing my hair off my face. “You’ll make a lovely bride, little bird.”
And then the hard, cold reality comes crashing into me again.
I’m going to be the Bride of Death.
Chapter 20
The Bride of Death
Despite Death’s wishes that our wedding be quick and rudimentary, word of our nuptials spread quickly across both the realm and the castle. It wasn’t long before others were planning the wedding for us. Or at least attempting to.