My fingers slip through his hair and I catch his mouth with mine. And then I nod against him. “It was.”
He pulls away, his dark eyes intense. His gaze moves down my body, his expression hazy with possessive pride. His gaze stops at the juncture between my thighs, and he must be seeing evidence of his own orgasm.
He shakes his head in disbelief. “This is very, very strange to me, Lazarus.” He runs his fingers over my pussy, smearing his cum. “Strange and enthralling.”
Now that my skin’s cooling and the deed’s been done, my heart begins to pound, my stomach knotting up as I look at him.
I don’t know what to do.
In the past, I had so many reasons to push Thanatos away. But now, those have evaporated. More than that, I have a deep seated fear that somehow, this is what breaks the spell that’s come over Death. Now that he has been inside me, whatever force that drove his obsession with me will wither away.
Yesterday, I left Thanatos after I had finished him off. I brace for him to do the same.
Instead, he withdraws his hand from between my thighs and stretches out on his side. A moment later he pulls me to him, his face achingly close.
My heart is still pounding, but that sick feeling is evaporating away, particularly once he throws one of his legs over my own.
I reach out and touch that perfect face, with his enviable cheekbones, and I stroke his pale skin. He really does have the sort of face that myths are made of. I’ve never in my life seen someone who looks like this, and I could never imagine what it might feel like to have them look at me the way Death is looking at me now—like I am the only thing worth having in this world. His eyes are devouring me, the candlelight making them look like water in the moonlight.
I don’t look away. I stare and stare and let this terrifying feeling between us build.
“Lazarus,” Thanatos says softly. He wets his lips, and the two of us are balancing on some precipice.
I don’t respond, ensnared by his eyes.
“Kismet, tell me you are mine,” he says softly.
I’ve spent so long fighting, it’s a strange feeling, giving in.
“I am yours.”
For better or worse, I am.
Chapter 48
Hallettsville, Texas
July, Year 27 of the Horsemen
I wake to the press of Death’s mouth against my body. I’m already arching against him, my flesh hungry for more of his touch.
“I tried to let you sleep—I did—but I cannot get this fire you’ve stoked out of my veins,” he whispers against my skin.
Why hadn’t I thought to give in to the horseman earlier? This is so much preferable to fighting.
As Death moves up my body, trailing kisses in his wake, I feel the brush of his erection. He stops only when the two of us are face to face, his hips nestled between mine.
“Tell me you no longer want me like I want you,” he says, searching my eyes. “Tell me I am mad.”
“You are mad,” I say.
Something flickers in his eyes. Disappointment?
“But then,” I add, “so am I.”
With that, I pull him to me.
Early morning sunlight filters into the room and someone is drawing shapes into my skin. I smile, stretching as I bask in the feel of it all.
I jolt when I remember.
Thanatos.
I turn, and there he is, propped up on a forearm, his naked body pressed against mine, and I can smell faint traces of frankincense and myrrh wafting off his skin—or maybe it’s on my skin. Or the sheets. Somehow, he’s everywhere.
In the sobering light of morning, this is all real in a way that last night wasn’t. We don’t just go our separate ways. This will continue on and on.
Death’s eyes crinkle at their corners. “You look like I have left my mark on you.”
I discreetly run my tongue over my swollen lips and smooth my tousled hair. “You seem pleased by that.”
“I am. I have never left my mark on any mortal—at least, not like this.”
I feel my cheeks heat.
His hand is back on me, his fingers drawing lines across my body once more.
“To think I once hurt this skin.” A very real shudder courses through him. “Unfathomable.”
I mean, my pussy took a beating last night and it probably will take another one today, so it’s not too unfathomable …
“I have hurt you too,” I remind him.
“To protect yourself and your people. I was always the aggressor, even when you waited to ambush me. I know you only ever did it to protect those people—people who were strangers to you.”