Page 40 of Princess of Death

My hips rocked into his face, my spine continued to straighten and arch, and then I dug one of my hands into his dark hair and moaned again. The room was still cold, but now I didn’t feel it, not when he made me sweat with just his kiss.

I felt the sun on the horizon, felt the burn deep inside my core. It happened so fast, and it happened with the God of the Underworld. I should feel disgusted by this proposition, coerced into a form of indentured servitude, but now that it was happening before my eyes, it felt completely different.

I cupped the back of his head and continued to writhe into him, wanting more of what he had already generously given. I burned hotter and hotter, exploded into an inferno, and then cried out as I came, arching my back toward the ceiling and feeling the tears squeeze out of my eyes. My hips bucked on their own, and despite the way I shifted and moved uncontrollably, he continued to work his magic.

My body relaxed a moment later, and the tears dripped down my cheeks.

Once I was finished, he moved up my body, his thick arms spreading me open as he made himself at home between my thighs. He was an enormous man, our proportions acontradiction to each other, but he didn’t seem dissuaded by my relative petiteness.

I hadn’t been ready for this moments ago, but now I ached.

With his arms tucked behind my knees and my body stretched into the position that he wanted, he guided his head to my entrance and gently pushed, lubricated by the kisses he’d already planted there.

I didn’t know how we were going to make this work. It was like sheathing a two-handed blade in the scabbard of a dagger.

But he pushed gently over and over, stretching my flesh and my folds and making room for himself to plunge inside me. He was a cliff of rocks above me, chiseled and hard even at this angle, and his eyes watched mine dance as he entered me.

I couldn’t open my legs any wider to make this work. My body was forced to accept him by his command. I breathed through the pain of the stretch, moaned several times and then winced immediately afterward.

When he was settled within me, he held himself still, dipping his head slightly over me.

My hands went to his chest and then his shoulders, feeling just how hard he was, how big he was…how gorgeous he was.

His eyes looked over me, contorted as far as possible to take him, and then he lowered his head to kiss me. A wet kiss with breath and tongue, packed with desire and possession. When he pulled away, he started to thrust, giving me deep and even strokes from the start, hitting the back of my channel every time.

Every stroke hurt…but felt so damn good.

The muscles of his hard stomach flexed and shifted with his movements. His big arms looked even bigger holding up his immense weight on top of me. His eyes were dark in their desire, and he looked at me like a possession he’d claimed in his name.

Just the sight of him was the biggest turn-on.

He kept up the same pace with his movements, his enormous dick hitting me over and over, the sound of my arousal coating his length audible with every thrust. My cream built up at the base of his dick as his pelvic bone rubbed into my clit. He was so hard inside me that he must have been close to release, but he didn’t have to edge himself. He didn’t have to stop and kiss me for a break. He continued like he was an expert at keeping his ammunition in the cannon.

I didn’t feel rushed to come like I sometimes did with other guys. Some of them didn’t wait for me to go first, so I had to take what I could get before the opportunity was gone. But I could tell that this ride would only stop when I wanted it to stop. I’d already had my release, but now I wanted to release like this, with him deep inside me, a god between my legs. “I’m almost there…” I planted my hands on his chest, and I felt my body press into the mattress over and over from his weight and his thrusts.

He increased his pace, shoving his fat dick inside me with more frequency and rubbing my clit harder.

The flush of heat that came over me was greater than the last time, a fire that licked my skin and made me melt. Smoke came from my eyes because the flames were so intense. I felt myself combust around him. My hips tried to thrust into the inferno, but they were pinned in place by his powerful arms. Another round of tears burned my eyes and streaked down my cheeks. It was hard for me to release more than once. It only happenedwhen I was particularly charged and the circumstances were right.

Wrath seemed to be the right circumstance.

I dug my nails into his arm as I finished, swept away in a crescendo that was infinitely better than the first.

Before I was completely done, I watched him release. He’d been inaudible the entire time, focused solely on me and our union, but the sexiest moan escaped his lips, and his skin immediately darkened as ash appeared in patches across his flesh. The cords in his skin deepened like taut rope, and he gave his final pumps inside me, moaning again when he gave me his desire.

It was not until after the satisfaction had passed that I realized what I’d done—slept with Wrath, God of the Underworld.

And I liked it.

When I woke up, the hearth in my room was lit with a small fire. Shadows danced on the walls, and the curtains to the bedroom window had been drawn closed. I opened my eyes and blinked several times as I stared at the fire, unsure whether it was night or day.

I adjusted my position in bed and felt the hardness beside me.

I wasn’t alone.

I looked at the naked man next to me, his head propped on the pillow, his eyes on me like he’d been staring awhile. I didn’t jerk away like I did when he caught me by surprise. I held my breathfor a second then released it. “I—I didn’t expect you to still be here.”

He took up most of the bed, and he was the reason the sheets were heated, not because of the fire. “Do you want me to leave?” The sheets were bunched at his waist like he was warm from the flames. But his eyes were cold—as always.

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