Page 74 of Sinner's End

Waving my arm, I gesture at the graveyard. “I was here when you decided to fall, to come to me. Don’t you think it’s appropriate that you claim me here?”

I watch him as he works through my words. He stands silently, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His erection rubs against my bare, battered pussy with every step we take. He lays me down on a cold slab of cement. It’s one of the older graves in the cemetery from when people feared grave robbers. But for us, it is perfect.

Bowen lowers his lips to mine, kisses me gently, languidly before moving on to the rest of my body. He takes his time, paying attention to each breast until my nipples are turgid in the cool air. He skims his lips across my abdomen, tracing the mark that Mana left but is quickly fading away. He kisses each of my hip bones, the insides of my thighs, my calves, and the soles of my feet. It’s such a simple thing to do but so revenant it brings tears to my eyes.

I wanted him to show me the real Bowen and that is what he is doing. Behind all the anger, sarcasm, and violence lies a gentle soul. A heart that has claimed my own without even trying.

He kisses his way back up my body, somehow having undressed in the process until he is leaning over me, his hips spreading my legs open, and the head of his cock notched at my entrance.

His onyx wings spread wide before enveloping us as he presses his thick cock into me, inch by torturous inch. My back bows from the cold slab beneath me, my breast pressing against his muscular chest. Bowen strokes into me, slowly but deeper than I ever thought possible. It’s overwhelming, angonizinglyslow, and utterly perfect.

For long, leisurely moments he makes love to me, his wings protecting us from the elements before his fingers start to strum my clit with a feather-soft precision. Moans and incoherent words fall from my lips as my orgasm crests and breaks, pulling me under. Bowen strains above me, his cock kicking inside me as he floods me with his cum.

Softly, he pushes my hair off my sweat-soaked forehead, nothing but pure, dark obsessive love burning in his darkened gaze.

“You are mine. And I am yours. Not even death can separate us.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

The Arms of My Immortal

Kaleb

I turn the glistening flesh of some unidentified meat on the crypt-themed barbecue out the back of Harken for our grand re-opening night, and pray to whatever demon is listening to hear me that it’s pork. Or some really big chicken.

The hoards seem to be eating it, and I hope we don’t have an impromptu repeat of the succubus night anytime soon because that shit took ages to get out of the damned walls. Walls that still whisper to me no matter which room I try to sleep in.

The drink in my hand has Mana’s signature ForgetMeKnot tinge, but his drug is a thing of a bygone era. Harken is clean now.

Well, people still die, but it’s by their choice. TheDie For Mecrew sign a liability waiver and head to the lower levels for their fun where Mana and Addi complete their nightly ritual. I still don’t know how they’re getting the disappearances by the local law and I don’t want to know how much it’s costing us. Mana claims we’re clean and for now, I’m going with that. Blind eye and all. Apparently, love does that, and I love all the creepy fuckers in our strange little pentagonal relationship. Well, almost all.

Bowen sashays by, his arms still wrapped around Addi. The angel-turned-reaper still freaks me out. But our girl has taken to him, and that’s all that matters. She nestles into his side like she’s meant to be there, dressed in her customary red. Another thing that’s stuck after Asmodeus’s fateful visit. He’s not a lifelong fixture, though apparently, he has his own obsessional problems. Mana refuses to go into it, but the prince of Hell isn’t as … clean … as he appears.

Either way, I’m back in leather pants and a vest, though I don’t hate them as much as I did back on my first week working Harken behind the bar when I first set eyes on Addi. Hells, that was a long time ago. Or not so long, just … an age.

I snare her slim arm, tugging her easily from Bowen’s grip. I offer to trade him for a slab of unidentifiable meat—not my cooking’s problem—but he shakes his head. Food doesn’t do it for him anymore.

He looks a little bereft without her in his arms, standing off from the crowd who give the void of his space a wide berth. It took us a good few days to realize no one else can see him.

Or, more to the point, they can’t see him until he needs them to see him, usually as he escorts them to where the hell ever souls goafter, when they aren’t being locked up in Harken’s stones, awaiting collection by Mana’s hellish father.

The politics of the underworld blow my mind. Apparently, none of us have to worry about that for an eternity, and there’s enough right here to keep me occupied.

“Enjoying the party, Addi?” I trail my fingers along her velvet halter neck top, sliding them into the valley between her breasts to play with her in plain sight.

Addi writhes in my arms, gasping a little. A telltale flush stains her cheeks. I can’t work out if it’s arousal, embarrassment, or a bit of both. Our level of possession with our once-human goes well beyond the bounds of any sense of normality. We’re all still getting used to that, Addi most of all. She signed up for the same eternity as us, she just didn’t seem to think about what that quite meant.

“Kaleb,” she mewls as my fingers latch onto her nipple, milking her gently one-handed as I flip barbeque with the other.

“Mmm, kitten?” My voice rasps, my cock hardening as I think about abandoning my cooking duties to flip her over the nearest faux crypt stone and sink balls-deep into her pretty, wellcunt. “Something you need?”

Her bare legs press to my thigh, and I give her all the encouragement she needs to mount me, pushing my knee between hers. Mana came in hard and fast with adress and no pantiesrule for ease of access the moment she complained about us ruining her favorite clothing. It’s been a boon to us and a deficit to her but our girl is always ready, always wet, no matter how much she complains.

“Kaleb…” Her voice trails off, filled with a pending whine.

I fix her with a hard stare. “You want to get off, kitten? I want your scent all over me. Rub.” Rolling her nipple just so, I tease her right to the edge, knowing how much she loved nipple play. Two would get her off given enough time. One? It’s not quite what she needs, and right now that’s perfect.

“But, the people—” she stammers, her gaze flitting side to side.

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