Page 72 of All Hallows Game

In reply, he threw the wet cloth to the floor and pulled my left leg over his shoulder. His tongue was cool compared to the furnace of me. I sank my hands into his long hair, brushing braids back from his face so I could see him, rugged and beautiful and so perfectly kind that my heart stuttered.

His tongue made unhurried passes, hands gently clasping my thighs to keep me from wobbling as he ate me with a tenderness that made my chest ache as badly as my clit.

“I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” he murmured, slurping with his whole mouth, the noises obscene and so hot that heat rushed from my scalded cheeks down to my toes. “But I need to be inside you when I make you come.”

“Then get up here,” I huffed, tugging on his hair.

“So demanding in the morning,” he teased, a flash of delight in his eyes as he set my foot back on the floor and rose, hauling my body against his. “Needy little one,” he said against my lips, his eyes liquid with desire as he stroked from my hips to my ass, lifting me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, the position a homecoming, and stole the kiss he was taunting me with. I caught his tongue between my teeth until he groaned and surrendered, kissing me so passionately that I could feel every roll and swirl and suck of his tongue on my clit.

We both reached for his boxers, smiling between kisses as our hands knocked together.

“Hands on my shoulders,” he commanded softly, “I don’t want you to fall.”

The second I was holding on properly, he slid inside me, the slow stroke fucking perfection. He swallowed my moan in a kiss, tasting every noise I made as he set a slow, adoring pace, his hips undulating in a way that made my breath catch every damn time he sank inside.

“I like this pretty mark on your shoulder,” he said when a moan forced us apart, burning up my throat as he worked deeper and deeper with each stroke. “But I think you need a matching one.”

I arched up into him in response, rolling my hips as shivery need built.

“No,” he said firmly, squeezing my ass as he pinned me to the slick shower wall, restricting my movements. “I won’t risk you falling, Cat. You let Daddy do all the work, just hold onto me and tell me what feels good.”

“Everything,” I panted, this sex so different to the frenzy Miz and I shared yesterday, but every bit as powerful. It was slow and sensual, declarations of love passing between us without a single word given voice, his lips never far from mine.

I began to shake, desperate heat coiling tighter and tighter, when Death’s mouth fastened to my left shoulder, sucking in deep, long pulls, leaving his mark on my skin.

“Death,” I gasped, my spasms erratic, building to something potent.

He scraped the mark with his teeth and my hips jerked. “Try again, little one.”

The calm command, the confidence in his voice… I couldn’t take it. My toes curled, ankles locked behind his back.

“Daddy, please—faster,” I expelled in a frantic rush, dropping my head to his shoulder when he immediately complied. That perfect angle never changed, lighting me up inside, and with the quickened pace… I muffled a cry by burying my teeth in his shoulder as my climax exploded through me.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” Death said in a strained voice, his breathing faster, harsher. “So fucking good, coming so perfectly, milking Daddy’s cock.”

Pleasure intensified so much that my eyes widened. Death reached between us, circling my clit with his thumb, making me clench harder around his cock.

“Fuck yeah,” he sighed, driving deeper. A throaty, sexy groan spilled from him as his cock throbbed inside me, filling me with warmth and bliss. “You make me feel so good. So good,” he panted, his forehead resting against my shoulder.

The praise wrung out my last bit of tension and I melted into him, loving the connection, the warmth, the feel of him inside me.

“My little bride,” he breathed, kisses fanning across my shoulder, my neck, my jaw, my cheek.

“Our little bride,” Tor’s voice came from the bathroom just on the other side of the glass screen, gruff with arousal. I was pleased to find I knew the difference between his regular gruffness, his pissed off gruffness, and his need to be inside you gruffness. “I made breakfast; it’s cooling downstairs. I should have known you’d be balls deep in our hot little wife.”

Ohhh. My back arched, a deep shudder working through my inner muscles.

“That word is deadly,” I panted, giving Tor a lazy glance when he peered around the screen, looking dangerous and sexy in black leather and— “Is that an apron?”

“Yup.”

“It’s cute,” I decreed. It was pink and frilly, with hearts and cartoon prairie dogs all over it. “Miz’s?”

“Miz’s,” he confirmed, his eyes flicking to Death. “Get your dick out of our girl so I can cuddle her.”

Death snorted but carefully obliged, giving me a long, loving kiss before he finally let me down. My legs were a little wobbly, but I could walk without eating floor tiles, which was a nice improvement on last night. I was already raising my arms by the time Tor reached into the shower and plucked me out like I weighed nothing, like I wasn’t soaking wet.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked, increasingly aware that I needed to show them the video but pushing the thought away for another few minutes.

---