Between the Moon and Her Night (Between Life and Death #3)

Chapter 14

Aurelia

D ark, obsidian, lose-your-soul eyes met mine and my breath hitched in my throat. The way Death looked at me just then, I had no words for it. That look. It belonged solely to him, a look that no one else could replicate. It was primal and intense.

Possessive.

And it had my body trembling for him. I needed his skin on mine. Needed to feel the weight of him. Needed to feel him inside of me.

“Take them off,” I demanded softly as I hooked a finger on the lip of his pants, feeling the smooth leather on one side and the hardness of his body on the other.

“So very bossy,” he teased as he leaned back on his haunches.

I propped myself on my elbows, feeling them sink into the muddy ground. His shadows swept around him, eating away at his clothes until nothing was left.

I swallowed, my gaze raking over the hardened planes of his incredible body. Rain beaded together, forming small rivers, washing some of the mud from his tanned skin. Inky markings lapped over each other, drawn on a canvas that was running out of room, painting his massive, muscular frame in splendor and sin.

Every inch of him was so damn . . . lickable. My gaze lowered down his carved, rigid abs. When I saw it , I realized a depraved truth—

I was going to be ruined.

Mind. Body. And soul.

I imagined that was how mortals felt when they watched an oncoming tornado chew up the world as it came for their home, knowing full well it was going to destroy all their cherished things and leave them trembling and wide-eyed, and left with nothing.

Creator above, every bit of this male was massive.

And rock-fucking-hard.

His wicked length bobbed against his stomach, reaching all the way to his belly button. It was corded with powerful, thrumming veins, matching the rest of his unlawfully chiseled physique. Built to dominate. A quarter of the way down was a tattoo—a feminine pair of lips. I thought back to the bite mark he had given me when we made our deal, and somehow, this felt connected to that, which meant—

“Are those mine ?” I asked, eyes flaring wide.

“Yes.” His voice was a deep, dark purr.

White-hot heat pooled low in my belly—that truth had no business being as delectable as it was. My lips forever etched on his proud length.

“Why there ?” I asked.

The corner of his mouth twisted upwards. His sexy smirk was criminal. “So you know where to put your mouth.”

My lips parted, my gaze sweeping up to his.

He chuckled, those heavy muscles contracting as he positioned himself over top of me. One hand landed beside my head, stabilizing his body over top of mine. He was so much larger than me, it seemed unreasonable. And yet, I didn’t fear him like I had before. No. Now, like this, I felt protected. It was strange yet familiar, and it made very little sense, but when his mouth lowered to mine, it suddenly made all the sense. Our tongues intertwined, caught in a playful war—taunting and tasting each other.

Large, calloused fingertips brushed down the length of my body, stirring my flesh to bloom for him. His hand trailed between us, his fingers finding that sensitive bud—swollen and throbbing, his touch the cure. He twirled it, playing with it until I was moaning into his mouth, whimpering for more.

He pulled his lips from mine and brought his fingers to my mouth. “Open for me.”

Slowly, I parted my lips, and he slid three of his massive, long fingers inside, his skull ring scraping against my teeth as he pushed them as far as my throat would allow. The taste of arousal and earth exploded across my tongue, bits of sand and grit releasing in my mouth.

“Suck them clean,” he purred, while his fingers playfully slid in and out of my mouth. Heat ripened my cheeks as I realized he was literally fucking my mouth with his fingers. “Get them nice and wet. ”

I did as he said—I sucked and lapped and licked, cleaning every inch of his fingers, even his silver rings.

“Always so good for me,” he groaned, pulling the wet digits from my mouth and lowering his hand. His finger dipped into my wetness, pressing deep inside of me. When he sank it all the way to his knuckle, my toes curled into the mud.

“Fuck, you are so tight, Kitten.” His eyes darkened, turning blazing hot. “It’s a good thing you are so wet for me.”

“Yes,” I cried out as I tipped my head back. A husky moan fell from my lips as his finger curled inside of me. My hands wrapped around his arms, feeling the steel etched beneath his skin—feeling the wealth of his incredible power.

“I want you, Death,” I mewled, living up to the nickname he’d given me.

“And you will have me,” he stated, adding a second finger, stretching me.

I clutched on to him as his wondrous fingers drove any tangible thoughts to extinction. All I could think of was him, and the way his hand felt between my legs. The things he did with it. An animalistic sound escaped my lips when he added a third. I had never been filled so wonderfully before. His fingers stroked that mind-shattering spot inside of me. When I was on the cusp of another orgasm, his fingers slid out, swiftly replaced by something much, much broader, nudging against my entrance.

My heart drummed loudly, my attention focused on our bodies, at this moment before we were fully connected. I wrapped my leg around him, locking him to me, a silent plea written in my gaze, relaying just how much I wanted him.

I took a breath .

Then the King of the Old Gods conquered me.

Powerful hips pressed forward, and he started to slide himself in, inch by incredible inch, never breaking eye contact. Fire brimmed as he stretched me beyond reason, forcing me to accommodate him—bend or break. Pain and pleasure mingled together, dancing underneath my skin, and a husky moan fell from my lips, carried away on his wind.

Death claimed me so slowly, so intimately, I forgot how to breathe.

Forgot how to function.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned as his cock exorcised my soul from my body. Had he not slid himself back, leaving just his thick crown in me, I might not have returned to my trembling frame.

He kept me there, pinned beneath him, as his mouth lowered to mine, his kiss to my lips so heartbreakingly sweet, before he trailed down to my neck. Those soft kisses disarmed me. A lure of trust, coaxing me to relax.

“I claim you as mine,” Death growled as his hand on my hip turned crushing. Lightning struck in warning as he angled his head and his fangs plunged into my neck, ripping through sinew and nerves at the same time he drove his cock back in.

I screamed as white heat enveloped my body, stars dancing behind my vision, as my body was torn between two worlds—pleasure and pain. Seconds was all it took for the former to win out as the venom from his fangs and the feel of his cock stitched rapture into my veins. His hand released my hip and intertwined with mine, pulling them both above my head, pressing them into the muddy earth as he drank from me .

He scattered my thoughts, tethering me to him—to where our bodies were connected. His heavy sack tapped against my bottom each time he slammed into me. With each rhythmic thrust, I could feel him go deeper and deeper and—

“Fuck,” I rasped, my lungs rattling in my chest—my world was being torn apart.

I had sex before, but it had never been like this.

Never this . . . euphoric.

As his fangs slid from my neck, he rolled us over in the mud and the rain, flipping us so that I was on top of him. My knees landed on either side of his hips as my hands fell to his muscular chest, stabilizing me.

Goddess divine, he felt so much deeper now.

“Ride me, goddess,” Death commanded, his hand slapping my bottom. I let out a low, surprised yelp. “Show me how good my future queen can take her king’s cock.”

His hips teased mine, and suddenly mine were moving on their own accord, dancing with his in perfect rhythm—never breaking contact as I absorbed each powerful thrust while his hands bracketed my hips. Our eyes were fixed on one another, staring deeply into each other’s souls as our bodies spoke a language of their own.

He lifted his hips, angling them, hitting that sacred spot inside, repeatedly.

I cried out in pleasure, my fingers digging into his strong, sturdy pectorals, carving little half-moons into his slick, inked skin. The fine cuts pooled with his divine blood.

“Drink from me,” he commanded, his voice husky.

Leaning forward, I ran my tongue over the small wounds, keeping my eyes locked with his. I wanted him to watch me drink from him. Just as I had watched him feast between my legs. A rich, slightly honey-sweet, metallic flavor spread across my tongue. Power seeped into me. His power. And it was intoxicating.

Magic scented the air, as if a spell were being performed. Like the celestial spirits, beyond the swells of the thunderclouds, had been planning this moment between us for millennia.

That’s when I felt it . . .

A fusing of sorts, of two broken halves being welded back together. A give and a take, in a grand payoff etched with cataclysmic bliss that came in the form of the strongest orgasm I had ever had. It wasn’t just me reaching it—it was as if Death had forced his hand into me and was pulling the immense pleasure from my body like a thief in the night.

Stars burst throughout my vision, dancing and twinkling.

My body trembled with each earth-shattering wave as I rode out my release, while Death found his.

“Take every drop,” he said roughly. He held me to him as he filled me with his seed, branding me in his essence. A silver light illuminated from within his skin, passing to mine, unlike anything I had ever seen before.

I blinked in my half-dazed confusion.

When I looked into his eyes, when I thought I saw the inky color of them begin to disappear and be replaced by another, my vision turned cloudy. My body swayed and I collapsed on top of him, losing myself to the realm of dreams.