Page 27 of Death's Obsession

What do I believe? If I believe that I will walk the afterlife beside Death, is that what will happen?

What did my parents believe? They weren’t overtly religious, though they didn’t dispel the idea of god with a capital ‘G’ or otherwise. Dahlia once said that she would be reincarnated into a rich person’s handbag dog, but I don’t know how much truth is in that.

As if reading my thoughts, he says, “I do not know where the souls of your family are, my love.”

“Oh,” I mutter and drop my attention back to my hands. I frown. “Why do you leave those symbols on me?”

He lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around me to pull me to him, where we cuddle like real lovers. Out of pure instinct, I burrow my head against his chest and slide my hands beneath his cloak to roam his back as if it were muscle memory.

His scent washes over me and with it the feeling of peace. In my life, I’ve never felt so calm and content. I could stay like this for eternity and never long to see the light of day. How could someone I know so little about make me want to give him everything short of the moon and the stars?

“So when you wake up, you remember me,” he replies.

I suck in a sharp breath and debate whether to change the topic again so I don’t need to admit the truth. After a moment of hesitation, I say, “I’ve never forgotten about you.”

“And you never will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

His fingers trail love notes along my back. “I have waited a lifetime for you, my Lilith. I am not letting you go.”

My hands move on their own accord, descending down his back to the top of his pants. I crook a finger into the band and follow the path to the front of him. His length hardens and pushes into my stomach as he takes a staggering breath.

My arousal pools low in my stomach knowing I have such a profound effect on him, just like he does on me.

I pinch the strings of his breeches, a second away from tugging it when he stops my movements once more. “Not tonight, my love. We will have all of eternity to explore each other’s bodies. Tonight, you need to be held.”

“Please,” I beg.

He tenses but doesn’t let go. The silence makes me wild with need. I need his hard length to sit heavy in my hands or hit the back of my throat until I see stars. I need to be filled by him so thoroughly that there will be no room in my mind for anything other than him. I need to feel alive. He doesn’t even need to let go of me. There doesn’t need to be a breath of space between us for him to bury himself in me.

What would Dahlia say if she knew that I’m begging Death himself to fuck me hours after he took Evan’s soul? Regardless of what she might think, I can’t bring myself to care. Nothing else matters but Letum and I.

“Please,” I whimper.

A warning growl thunders low in his throat. “Fuck, Lilith. You don’t understand, do you?”

Liquid fire douses my skin and I writhe beneath him, my arousal hot in the air and the space between us is heavy with our aching needs. “What?” I gasp.

If he knew the state of what is happening between my legs, I’m sure there would be no more talking going on between us. This is one of the few chances I have to get to know him, and all I want is to feel him inside of me. What does that say of me?

He slams his lips to mine and devours me in an earth shattering kiss. Still, his hands stay wrapped around my waist. “You command me. Not just my heart—all of me.”

I drag my teeth down his lip before he gets the chance to break the kiss. “Please, Letum. I just want to feel.”

Before I can blink, his weight is on top of me and his fingers disappear down to my aching core. “Fuck,” he snarls, pushing his fingers through my heat. “You’re so wet for me, my love.”

I watch with bated breath as he pulls away from my center and brings his hand into the space between us. Light glistens off his wet fingers and he grumbles in approval as he tastes me once again. “Yes,” he says, low and heated. “You are my favorite thing to eat.”

Oh god.

“Don’t stop,” I beg.

He devours me in another kiss, the taste of me still sweet on his tongue. Strong fingers delicately strum my clit like he already knows how to make me sing. He swallows my cry and balances himself on an elbow before gripping my throat possessively.

“My love,” he says breathlessly. “You’re fucking magnificent when you use your words. Do you know what happens when you’re good?”

I try to stop myself from closing my eyes and lose myself in the feeling as he circles my clit with expert precision and I almost forget how empty I feel without him inside me. “What—”

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