River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(82)

Fuck!

I try to watch, taking it all in like a show, even though my eyes keep pinching shut with each violent thrust. He’s fucking magnificent. The way his body is so perfect, his muscles larger than life, showcasing the pulsing runes of light that make him glow like the god he is.

Then his hips slam into me, hard, and I gasp, my fingers curling around the rug beneath me, and my eyes close as I let all the sensations wash over me like a tidal wave. The feel of his thickness inside me, his ragged breath as he powers through. The room fills with the smell of our sex, musky and intoxicating.

His rhythm increases, the pace getting faster, messier, his cock sliding along every coiled part of me. From the intense look on his face, his dark brows knitted together, the moans that are falling from his wet mouth, he’s as lost to the sensations as I am.

He spears me with his eyes, holding me hostage in their pewter gaze, until it almost feels like staring into the sun, like it’s too much for one person to handle.

Like there’s too much danger at stake.

Because of course there is.

I’m being fucked by Death.

All it takes is for him to get carried away, to get careless and lose control, and for a glove to slip off.

That would be the end of me.

The thought makes me tense, fear striking me in the heart.

As if sensing this, he reaches over and gathers my wrists together, moving them above my head, pinning them there. He holds me in place with his gauntlets, grip tight, as he pistons his hips faster. They slam into me, knocking the air from my lungs, relentless. The rug starts moving backward on the floor.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, breathless. I have to look away from his eyes, they’re wanting so much from me right now, not just my body but my soul.

Right now, I’ll give it to him.

I’ll give him everything to keep feeling like this.

Through sex with Death, I’ve never felt more alive.

It’s the act of creation coupled with the act of destruction.

It’s us, as undefinable as we are.

But there is an us here.

My eyes fall closed, letting the fear go, succumbing to every feeling; The rough fabric of the rug on my spine, the night air as it cools my flushed skin, the sound of his raspy breath, the squeeze of his cock as he thrusts inside me without mercy, again and again and again.

“Look at me, fairy girl. I want you to know who’s fucking you this ruthlessly.”

My eyes open and the look on his face has intensified, his forehead creased in concentration. For a moment, I can’t believe this is happening, that this man—no, this God—with his impeccable body, and those glowing rune tattoos that speak for all lives lost, is fucking me like this. Ruthless to the core.

“I want you to fly,” Death says through a rough grunt as his body thoroughly works me, every muscle clenched and strained. “I want to see your sweet face as you spread your wings, little bird.”

He reaches down between my thighs and starts rubbing my clit in rough, slippery circles.

Oh god.

My God.

“Don’t stop,” I cry out softly, my legs spreading wider for him. He lets go of my wrists and I reach up and grab his ass harder this time, until he’s in so tight there isn’t a centimeter of space between us.

He growls, determined to get me off, possessed by our raw desire, fingering me and fucking me with such intensity that the room seems to glow with our energy, as if we have the power of a thousand starstones.

“Oh god, don’t stop,” I say again. He grunts loudly in my ear and his skilled fingers play with my clit in a figure eight. His cock drives in deeper, as if he’s about to impale me to the floor.

The pressure inside me builds and I feel like I’m moments from going over the edge and falling. He covers my lips with his, pulling me into a wet and messy kiss, fucking my mouth as thoroughly as he fucks me with his dick. Then he brings his head down to my breasts, licking at them, sucking in my nipples until I feel like my world is about to be blown wide open.

“Little bird,” Death says thickly, just as my orgasm reaches for me. “Fly away now.”

The God of Death just obliterated me.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out. I come hard. I’m drowning. Back arched, limbs shaking, heart trying to burst through my chest. The wave doesn’t end, it just keeps coming for me, over and over again, and I can barely focus. Once again there’s the slight fear that he may have just sent me to Oblivion but luckily that feeling fades and all I feel is sated bliss.

Death growls, brings his large gloved hands down to my hips, holding me in place as he fucks into his release, the movements wild and brutal. Then he throws his head back, his throat exposed, eyes rolling back, and he’s coming with a long, uninhibited groan.

“Fuck,” he groans, gasping for air. “You undo me, Hanna. I am undone.”

I grin lazily, watching as the orgasm rips through his body, just as it ripped through mine. He really is completely undone. His muscles gleam with sweat from his own exertion, his man bun has come loose, letting his long, jet-black hair over his shoulders, his mouth open and wet, his chest heaves as he tries to regain his breath.

What the fuck just happened? We have to be thinking the same thing, because though the sex before was amazing, it wasn’t anything like this.

This was…soul-rendering.

With a long, slow shuddering exhale, he looks down at me, and in his eyes I see peace and I have to wonder how often he feels that way.