“Kismet, it doesn’t matter—”
My gaze snaps back to him. “You know it matters,” I say. This is the same man who refused Famine his mortality because the Reaper had the wrong motives.
Death flinches at my words. He must see me retreating emotionally because he closes the distance between us, reaching out for me.
“Do not touch me,” I warn him.
Death’s eyes gleam and his wings widen a little behind him in what feels like a weird dominance display—if I knew shit about birds.
“Or what, Lazarus?” he says, his voice unnervingly calm. He takes a step into my space.
“Perhaps we should flip your question around: What would you do, kismet, if you could truly kill me for good?” he demands. “Imagine if my death could cause all of humanity to go back to the way it was, and you could be reunited with your son once more. Would you do it? Would you kill me?”
In an instant I would, God help me.
I glare at him, my jaw tightening.
Thanatos sees my answer written on my face. I know he does.
“Stop pretending we are normal,” he says. “We are not. There is no one like us. I cannot kill you and you cannot kill me. We’ve tried that. It hasn’t worked. So let’s try something else.”
With that, he closes the last of the space between us and kisses me savagely.
Chapter 46
Hallettsville, Texas
July, Year 27 of the Horsemen
I said I didn’t want him to touch me, but I’m a liar. This is the only truth I know in the mess of our relationship.
I fall into the kiss, my arms snaking under the horseman’s, my fingers brushing against the base of his wings.
He groans at the touch, pulling me tighter against him.
Stop pretending we’re normal. We are not.
I think I needed that reassurance. I needed to be dug up from all of the assumptions of right and wrong that I’ve held my entire life.
While my lips glide against his, he bends. One of his arms slips under my knees, and never breaking off the kiss, he lifts me into his arms. He begins to move, and distantly I’m aware that he’s heading for the house.
I’m only pulled from the kiss when Thanatos makes it to the front door. He lifts a leg and— Crack, he kicks the door in, the wood ripping from the hinges.
I jolt at the sound, tearing my lips away. With a firm hand, Death turns my head towards him and reclaims my mouth.
Thanatos crosses the threshold, his footfalls echoing through the house as he resumes striding forward, still holding me close. I’m distracted by the kiss, but not so distracted that I fail to notice when we enter a bedroom, a massive bed on display. My stomach tumbles at the sight, even as my pulse pounds.
I’ve been so focused on seducing Death, that I never really gave much thought to him seducing me. But it’s clear enough that’s where things are headed.
He sets me on the bed, backing up only to watch me as he begins to remove his silver armor bit by bit.
“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly, pushing myself up on my forearms.
His eyes gleam. “Claiming what I should’ve long ago.”
Arm guards, off, breastplate, off, greaves, off. He removes it all, and then he reaches for his clothing.
“You can always tell me to stop,” he says, echoing my earlier words. It draws a smile out of me, even as my nerves buzz.
He pulls off his shirt, casting it aside.
My breath catches as I take in all of his glowing tattoos. They cover his skin like leopard spots.
With his armor on, Death looks like an angel of God; without it, he looks like something more. More than angelic, more than otherworldly. It’s hard to believe he can even somewhat pass for human most of the time; it’s so obvious to me right now that he’s something else entirely.
His hand moves to his boots, and he pulls them off one by one.
I almost think that he’s going to stop there.
He doesn’t.
His pants—and whatever lies beneath—come off, and he is completely, gloriously naked.
Thanatos returns to where I lay on the bed, still fully clothed. He places a fist on either side of my head, bracketing me in.
All I can see are miles of rippling muscle and tattoos, and I can’t think straight. My hands twist in the blanket beneath me. I feel like everything between us has been flipped on its head, and all that power and control I collected last night has been siphoned away.
He leans in close. “I have given you so much pain, kismet. Let me give you pleasure to match.”
As the two of us stare at each other, his hands move to the collar of my shirt and— Riiip.
I suck in a breath as he tears the fabric apart, exposing my bare skin beneath. My heartbeat is quickening. Pain and pleasure will always go hand in hand with Death. I have too many memories of fighting him for it to be otherwise.
I begin to sit up, an action the horseman takes advantage of. He leans in and kisses me roughly. Despite myself, I laugh a little at how exploitive the horseman is.
He groans against my mouth, nipping at my lower lip. “If I could, I would devour that laughter of yours. There is nothing sweeter.”
My smile fades away. Every time Thanatos says something like that, an unnerving warmth blossoms under my sternum.
To distract myself from it, I break off the kiss and undo my bra, sliding the undergarment off. I lounge back against the bed, though there’s nothing relaxing about this. I’m taut with tension.
Death has a wild look about him, and his eyes are transfixed on my breasts. Reaching out, he cups one.
Thanatos makes a noise low in his throat. “I cannot get over how soft you are,” he breathes. “Or why I find that so damn alluring.” As he speaks, his thumb sweeps over my nipple.
I hiss in a breath, my skin so sensitive.
Death grins and runs his thumb over my nipple again. Unthinkingly, I arch into the touch.
“You like that?” he asks.
Before I can answer him, he begins drawing circles around my nipple, staring intently at me. And damn him, but I can’t not react to those deft fingers of his, my chest rising and falling faster and faster.
“I know I like it,” he continues. “And I really like that look in your eyes.” Death’s voice has gone rough, and this is a wholly unfamiliar side to him.
What look do I have in my eyes?
“But,” he adds, leaning towards me once more, “I want those wicked lips of yours back on mine.”
That’s all he has to say for me to rise up to meet him once more. My arm wraps around his neck as I resume the kiss. Thanatos falls into it eagerly. His lips part my own, and then his tongue sweeps against mine, claiming every last inch he can.
His hips rock against me, and Jesus, I want to do bad, bad things to this horseman.
I bring a booted foot up, in between us, forcing him back. The man looks half feral as he gazes down at me, lust thick in his eyes.
“What could possibly make you wish to stop?” he asks.
“Take the rest of my clothes off,” I demand softly.
If there was heat in Death’s eyes before, it ratchets up now as his gaze descends on my lower half. Without responding, he grabs the foot holding him back and, casting me a wicked look, he removes my boot, then the sock beneath.
He glances down at my foot. “Even your toes delight me, Lazarus. What a wonder you are. What a wonder this is.”
This.
That last line has my heartrate jackknifing.
I want to tell him that he’s the wonder, with his glowing tattoos and wings and deadly magic. But I’m afraid that if I speak, if I give into the churning mass of thoughts that he elicits, I’ll slide right into my feelings for this man and I’ll never get myself out.
Death removes the other boot and sock, and then his hands are traveling up my legs and just that sensuous touch has me panicking.
How have we gone from enemies set on destroying each other to this?
The thought has barely crossed my mind when I feel Death undo my jeans and begin to pull them down. His fingers snag on my panties, and those come along too. Inch by tantalizing inch, he removes the last of my clothing. He tosses it all aside, his gaze feasting on me.