Death lets out a primal moan as he sinks into me, and I can’t help but respond in the same way. From this angle, he’s packed in so incredibly tight, nearly pressing against my cervix. It’s borderline uncomfortable, but then the sensation gives way to pleasure. I’ve never felt so full before, like his cock was always made to fit inside me.
Like I belong.
He slowly begins to slide out and then pushes back in, holding me in place until I start to slip forward. I grip the sheets, my face pressed against the bed as he slams into me again and again.
And again.
I pant for breath, trying to hold on and wanting to let go, while a gloved hand goes for my clit, rubbing wild and messy, making me moan, while the other one goes back to my ass, searching, exploring, testing me.
Yes, yes, please.
I groan loudly, wanting more, so much more.
Who am I right now?
What have I become?
An animal, just full of base instincts?
“You like that, don’t you?” he growls. “Your eagerness is showing.”
He pushes his thumb all the way in and I gasp.
“If you could see what I see,” he murmurs, making a raw, primitive sound from somewhere deep inside. “How you cream around my cock, how tight you grip me.”
And just like that, his finger presses down in one slick motion and I can feel how wet I am and how every inch of me feels so damn full and I’m coming.
Fuck!
The orgasm rips through me and I hold onto the sheets, feeling like I’m being flung somewhere very far away, a world beyond this and the next, and my skin is blistering as the need finally dissipates. I feel reduced to nothing but a puddle, while Death is still going, still working away at me even though my body has yet to come down from the ride.
He lets out another growl, this one pure instinct and animal, and I’m not sure if he’s even a God right now; I think he might be more primordial and simple than that. He fucks me like he’s born to fuck me, driven to come, like that’s all he ever wants to do.
The sounds are so hypnotic that I feel my sensitivity fade away, and I’m getting hot and swollen again, ready for more.
“Oh, God!” I cry out, and I can’t believe it.
I’m coming yet again.
“Yes,” Death grunts loudly. “Fly again, little bird. I want you sore in the morning.”
I’m riding this insane high, panting, moaning, screaming, swearing and then his fingers dig into my skin and I know he’s close, so close.
“Hanna,” he bellows, his voice filling the room as he climaxes.
My name sounds amazing on his lips.
The way he comes seems violent this time, the way his body shakes, the way his cock pounds inside me until finally he slows, sweat dripping onto my back.
I didn’t even know Gods could sweat, but I’m quickly learning they can do a lot of things.
Like fuck your brains out.
He collapses against me this time and my body buckles, slamming against the bed. I’m boneless, I’m floating, I’m just a soul crushed beneath Death, and he’s holding me hostage, yet he’s letting me live.
He’s letting me live.
This is living.
Chapter 18
The Full Moon
I press my fingers into my earlobes and look in the mirror, hoping to see the color change in the aurora stone studs. Ever since I got to Shadow’s End, I’ve tried to use the earrings to find a way to know if my father is still okay, still alive. But while the rock that Rasmus had would glow like the northern lights to let us know, the studs are so small that any flashes I see might be because of the way the stones have been cut.
In other words, I have no way of knowing if my father is all right. I came to the Land of the Dead hoping to find him, hoping that he was alive. Now I’m in this land, permanently, and he’s supposed to be back home and I’m still wondering.
“I wish there was some way I could know,” I say to Bell, my heart feeling waterlogged and heavy in my chest. I twist around in the chair and glance back at the tank. “Are there, like, messenger pigeons in this land or something?”
“There are ravens,” she says, tapping her hands against the glass like she’s the drummer for Tool. “Feathers and bones, mainly, but they deliver messages between Stragglers, Gods and spirits alike. Now, they don’t fly between this world and the next. The soulbirds do though, but they don’t deliver messages. Not in the way you mean.”
I sigh and look back at my reflection in the mirror. I look better than I’ve ever looked. My eyes are bright, my cheeks flushed—I have a real glow about my skin. Perhaps eating like the Gods do has really agreed with me.