Page 29 of Definitely Dead

“Fuck me,” he demanded. “Make me feel it.”

The growl he received in answer was predatory, dangerous, and the sweetest sound he had ever heard. A powerful arm locked around his waist, caging him, and Tyr tumbled him back to the floor. His hips flexed, his control snapped, and he slammed his hips forward, driving into Sunne without restraint.

He set a brutal tempo, thrusting hard and fast, his fingers digging into Sunne’s thighs as he jerked him onto his cock with every deep plunge. Sunne cried out, his voice ringing through the room, desperate and half-crazed from the pleasure.

Tyr’s growls joined his moans, creating an erotic symphony as they hurdled toward the abyss in a wild storm of panted breaths and tangled limbs.

“You are mine,” Tyr snarled at him. “Only mine.” He punctuated every word with another hard thrust. “Say it.”

“Yours,” Sunne choked, his head whipping back and forth, his balls aching for release. “Only yours.”

With a roar that shook the walls, Tyr fell over him, his sharp fangs piercing the skin at the apex where his neck met his shoulders.

Sunne screamed, his throat tight and raw, as he shattered, broken into thousands of glittering pieces. His eyes rolled back and his vision dimmed as his orgasm slammed into him with the force of a tsunami, dragging him beneath a violent wave of endless pleasure.

His balls contracted, squeezing against his body, and his cock pulsed with ropes of hot, sticky semen that painted his chest and abs.

Through the haze, he felt his mate still, heard his answering growl as he emptied himself into Sunne’s contracting channel. In the stillness that followed, Tyr claimed his mouth again, pushing his tongue between his parted lips.

The kiss was brief, tender, and tinged with the taste of copper—with his mate’s blood. And by the time it ended, Sunne was floating, drifting somewhere beyond himself, surrounded by a bright light that enveloped him with indescribable warmth.

Easing out of him, Tyr collapsed on the floor beside him and dragged him into his arms, cradling him against his broad chest as he peppered kisses over his face and head.

“You are mine now, and I’m never letting you go.”

Burying his face against the side of the Guardian’s neck, he smiled as Tyr’s voice whispered into his mind, proof of their unbreakable bond, now cemented for eternity.

“Mine,”he sent back.“All mine.”

Chapter eight

“Wait,didyousayCerberus?”

Tyr slowed so Sunne could keep step beside him as they made their way to the diner. “Yep.”

“LiketheCerberus? Hellhound? Guardian of the Underworld?That’swho Orrin is mated to?”

He chuckled at his mate’s reaction. The surly bastard tended to have that effect on people. Even souls in the village would often do a double take whenever his name was brought up in conversation.

“One and the same, but he goes by Erus here, and no, he’s not a hellhound. He’s not even a shifter.”

“I’m guessing he doesn’t have three heads either.”

“Correct.”

While still the OG—the Original Guardian—the stories got a lot wrong about Erus. He hadn’t been born into power, nor had he inherited it. He had just been a regular soul, wandering the Underworld, until Hades had plucked him from obscurity and given him purpose.

A purpose he’d lost sight of until he’d met Orrin.

“But he has powers, right? So, what is he?” Sunne asked. “A god?”

“Pretty much, but don’t let him hear you say that. He hates it.” Tyr could already picture the male’s murderous expression, could practically feel the vein that throbbed in his temple when someone dropped the G-word. “Actually, you know what? I take it back. You should definitely ask him if he’s a god.”

Sunne shook his head and snorted out a laugh. “I’m guessing you two don’t really get along.”

“He’s fine.” He respected the asshole, but no, he didn’t particularly like him. “Orrin says we’re too much alike.”

“That explains a lot, actually,” Sunne muttered under his breath. “And why are we going to talk to him?”

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