Page 9 of The Reaper's Mate

“What does that even mean?”

I turn around and sit on the bed with her in my lap, keeping one hand at her throat and using the other to swipe her soft hair away.

“It means.” I drop kisses along her shoulder, tasting her sweet skin and relishing her scent. “That we are bound. Forever. I am yours. You are mine.”

Her pulse races as I nibble at her. “Are you making this up?”

I press my palm between her tender thighs and feel her wet panties again. “Does this feel false to you?” I release her throat and place my palm over her swiftly-beating heart. “Or this?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “I can’t tell what’s real. I know I need to run, but I can’t seem to do it. You’re clearly some sort of lunatic stalker. But instead of distance, I want . . .”

I kiss the shell of her ear. So delicate, breakable.Mortal. Her demise rises like a specter in my thoughts, but I refuse to pay it any attention. I’m on the cusp of claiming my mate, and no harm will befall her under my care.

“Let me claim you.” I cup her ample breast and squeeze the hard tip. “You’ll see. You’ll feel it when I’m moving inside you.”

Her moan sets my body alight and before I can stop myself, I’ve ripped off her wings and laid her on the bed. Looking up at me, she’s far more enticing devil than pure angel, and I want to sample her promise of sin.

She tenses, but I kiss away her surprise, tasting her lips and teasing her tongue. I grip her hair and angle her head to the side. With full access to her luscious mouth, our souls entangle and dance with each other just as our tongues do. She is warm and wanting, her aura giving me light shocks as her arousal deepens.

I can’t wait any longer. I have to be inside her, to feel our hearts beating in unison.

I lift away from her and pull at the hem of her top. She hesitates, then seems to make a decision, and lifts her arms. I’ve never been so thankful in all my life. I peel her shirt off then stare at her breasts and the hard nipples trapped beneath the lace of her bra. Leaning down, I capture one in my mouth.

She runs her hands through my hair. The scent of her arousal drives me wild, and I bite her nipple.

“Matt!” Her nickname for me is perfect on a gasp, so I bite her other nipple, then suck it until she’s writhing beneath me. I should take my time with her, but my soul aches to embrace hers. Denying myself any longer is torture; I’ve waited eons for Annabelle.

I snap the lace between her breasts with one finger and feast on her. Her soft skin, lightly scented with jasmine, is the stuff of dreams. I nip at the undersides of her breasts, and return to her taut peaks. She clutches my hair, her breathing becoming more desperate. The only thing that can tear me away is the promise of heaven between her thighs.

Kissing down her stomach, I stop and dart my tongue into her cute belly button. She tenses, and black sparks skitter through her aura.

“What?” I catch her eyes.

“My stomach. It’s just, um.” She bites her lip. “It’s not, you know, it’s not—”

“It’s beautiful. All of you. Beautiful.” I say it more fiercely than intended, but it’s true.

She takes a breath, and tears glitter in her eyes. “No one’s ever said that before.”

“No one?” I find it impossible at first. Then pride swells in my chest at the confirmation that I’m her only lover. After all, if a man had ever seen her naked, surely he would have told her the same?

I kiss every inch of her stomach, dragging my tongue along her softness and dropping lower toward the promise of sweeter delights.

Her body trembles beneath my touches, and I hook my fingers inside the waist of her skirt. My cock tries to massacre the line of buttons on my pants, but I have to taste her first. I want my claiming to be seared in Annabelle’s heart—multiple orgasms seem like a sure way to achieve that effect. With a soft tug, I pull her skirt off and toss it on the floor.

She’s naked except for the thin satin of her panties. I drink in her exquisite body, disbelieving my luck at having such a gorgeous mate. I stare, memorizing every curve, every breath, everything about her.

“You’re killing me.” Her voice is thick with need.

The irony isn’t lost on me, but I refuse to think about her demise—the demise Iwill notallow to happen. “Never.” I drop to my knees and yank her to the edge of the bed. With the flick of my fingers, I rip her panties away and get a view that steals my breath.

“Son of a bitch.” I realize now that I’ll have to fight for her. Males will try to get close to her, to taste what’s mine.Never. A growl rips through me at the thought of anyone else seeing or tasting her lovely cunt. I haven’t spent the last several boring millennia escorting souls to the afterlife—many of them to their final, ultimate happiness—just to sit back and watch my happiness get stolen away.

I vow to myself I’ll keep her satisfied, keep her with me, then I focus on the hot flesh between her smooth thighs. The skin here is fairer than the rest of her, and the pink lips similar to a pale rose. When I see the wetness waiting for me, my mouth waters, and I give her a slow lick.

CHAPTER SIX

ANNABELLE

---