Page 136 of When Death Whispers

Then he lowers me.

Slowly.

Agonizingly slowly.

I slide down the thick length of him, my body stretching around every inch, every textured ridge, every dip and angle.

I feel everything.

I gasp, my forehead dropping to his shoulder as my breath shudders out of me. Fuck.

His cock is nothing like I’ve ever felt before.

Hard. Unforgiving. Designed to ruin.

I am quite literally being impaled by death himself. And it feels so good.

A rumble rolls through his chest, vibrating against my breasts.

“Fuck, Steo. That’s?—”

I don’t get to finish.

His shadows lift me and drag me down again.

Wetness pools between my thighs, an embarrassing amount, slick coating every inch of him.

A sharp snarl escapes Steo, his control fraying. His fingers dig into my waist, his hips flexing, forcing me to feel every part of him again.

The sound of it—the slick, wet slide—makes something snap in him.

His shadows shove deeper.

I scream, my back arching, every nerve in my body lighting up.

He growls, his voice nearly incoherent.

Shit, I feel sofull.

“More,” I gasp.

“With pleasure, Snow Pea.” His voice is guttural.

His pace picks up, moving me faster, his shadows keeping perfect rhythm—inside me, around me, coiling tighter, owning me. Every thrust, every flick sends me spiraling higher, my pleasure mounting impossibly fast.

“Exquisite,” he groans, his voice raw. “Delectable. Mine.”

His mouth finds my skin, biting, sucking, marking, his words spilling out between gasps.

I can’t take it.

It’s too much.

His shadows curl around my throat, teasing, sliding down to pinch my aching nipples.

I snap.

My climax hits like a shockwave, my entire body seizing as pleasure detonates through me, shattering every thought. A second scream rips from my throat, my vision blurring into starbursts, my limbs trembling.

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