Neither of us speaks as I wrap my legs around him, locking my ankles behind his back.
He only takes a moment to line us up before he drives into me. I cry out at the sensation, but already Death is withdrawing and thrusting back in. I twine my arms around his neck as he pumps into me like he’s trying to get as deep as possible.
“God,” he groans, “the way you grip me, kismet. I could live here, inside you, forever.”
I capture his mouth and kiss him as a wave crashes around us, and I taste saltwater on his lips.
The horseman moves his mouth away to press kisses along my cheek. He nips at my earlobe as he slides out of me, then pistons back in.
I moan, my mind blown for the countless time at the witchcraft that is this horseman.
His thrusts are deep and languid, and his glittering glyphs illuminate his eyes, giving them extra luster as he stares at me.
“You are everything I thought I couldn’t have,” he breathes.
I want to hide from his raw admission, but only because I’ve been in the habit of doing so for so long. Instead, I lean into that weightless feeling that fills me.
I touch Death’s face. “And you’re everything I thought I shouldn’t have,” I respond.
Couldn’t, shouldn’t—we’ve defied ourselves to be together.
Thanatos’s thrusts grow deeper and more powerful. The waves lap at us, but locked in the horseman’s arms, I barely notice it.
He leans in for a kiss, his tongue stroking mine for the briefest of moments before retreating.
Death breaks off the kiss, his hand cupped against my cheek, his face inches from mine. “How I enjoy tasting you, kismet.” He’s still driving himself into me, and his eyes go molten at whatever expression I wear. “And that look—that look reassures me that I have ensnared you just as much as you have me.”
The horseman moves his hands to my hips, rocking into me again and again until my legs are tightening around his waist. When he’s thrust himself as deep as he can go, he pauses, holding us in that position.
“Thanatos,” I pant.
He grins. “This, however, is perhaps what I enjoy most—when I am fit so tightly inside you that I am not quite sure where I end and you begin. I love it all far too much for my own good.”
My hands thread through his hair. “I think you also like torturing me.”
Death grins again. “Only a little.”
With that he begins to move again, thrusting harder and harder until the water is frothing around us.
His hand slips down to my clit, and he begins stroking it, and oh dear God, he’s no longer playing fair.
I catch his wrist, trying to pry his hand from my flesh.
“It’s too much,” I pant.
“You’ll take it,” Death insists. He continues to toy with my clit, the pad of his finger gliding over it again and again as he moves in me.
It really is too much.
I moan, lost to the sensation. My other hand has tightened in Thanatos’s hair, and he growls at the sensation.
He dips his head, his lips taking in the tip of my breast. His teeth graze over my nipple, and I am done.
I cry out as I shatter apart, my orgasm almost violent. On and on it goes, every stroke of Death’s hips stretching it out a little longer. Even once it finally comes to a close, the horseman hasn’t removed his hand from my clit.
I reach for his wrist again, and he laughs.
“I don’t think so, kismet. You’re not done yet.”
I stare at him like he’s sprouted two heads—at least I try to. It’s really fucking difficult when he’s stroking me from both the inside and the outside.
“Thanatos.”
“Yes,” he says, flashing me a wolfish grin, “say my name again like that.”
“It’s too much,” I insist.
“Well, we both know you won’t die from it.”
Ha-ha, he’s so funny. Not.
I’m panting again, and can feel another orgasm building like the first one never happened.
Now I do huff out a laugh. “I cannot believe you.”
The water is freezing, the waves are crashing into us, and none of it is nearly as distracting as this sadistic horseman who wants to torture me with pleasure. Death’s slamming his cock into me, and my aching pussy is throbbing.
Thanatos flashes me a devilish look, then pinches my clit.
Just like that, a second orgasm sweeps through me. My fingernails dig into his skin as I tilt my head back, giving myself over to the sensation.
Death leans in, pressing a kiss to my throat as I ride my climax out.
And though he’s stopped pinching my clit, the horseman’s hand still hasn’t left it. I just about cry from the sensation, which was wonderful a second ago, but now is way too much.
I’m pretty sure Thanatos wants to see just how many back-to-back orgasms he can wring from me.
I guess he doesn’t realize that I can play him like an instrument too.
My hand slips down, between his legs, and I cup his balls.
Death groans, his legs trembling just a little.
“Oh, did you think you were the only one with keys to the kingdom?” I say, my voice raspy. As I speak, I let my nails scrape over his sensitive skin.
The horseman’s eyes widen. “Lazarus,” he pants.
“Yes,” I agree. “Say my name like that.” I throw his earlier words back at him. “Better yet—beg.” As I speak, I continue to play with his balls, ignoring how his own touch is brutalizing me in the most exquisite way.
Death’s thrusts become erratic. “You—are—merciless …” he bites out. Then, with a shout, he comes, hammering into me again and again.
I sigh as finally his hand leaves my clit. His cock strokes me several more times before he slips out. And then he simply holds me close.
I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, my spent body plastered against his.
“You are a bastard,” I whisper
I feel him grin against my cheek. “I’m your bastard.”
I swallow.
“Yes,” I agree. “You’re mine.”
The two of us lay out on the beach, still completely naked. The ocean air is chilly, but Death’s wings are warm, and I’ve managed to sneak myself under one.
Above us, I can see the Milky Way stretching out across the night sky. The stars gleam like jewels.
“What do you feel when you look up at the stars?” I ask.
Thanatos turns his head, and I can feel his gaze on me. “I’m supposed to feel something?”
A laugh slips out at that. “I’m trying to be deep here, and you’re ruining it.”
He’s still looking at me, and when I tilt my head to face him, I can see the want in his eyes, like he craves my entire essence.
“Do you feel anywhere what I do?” he asks.
A bead of saltwater clings to a wet lock of his hair. I focus on it as I swallow.
“Yes,” I answer seriously, my gaze meeting his.
His starry eyes deepen at my admission.
After a moment, I tear my gaze away to stare back up at the sky.
“Every time I look up there,” I say. “I feel like I remember who I am.”
“And who is that?” he asks quietly.
I swear he’s bracing himself for my answer.
“That’s the funny thing,” I say. “I don’t even feel like a who when I look at those stars—more like a what. Like I’m something that doesn’t have worries or fears. I just am.”
Death is still staring at me, and I can feel the weight of that gaze.
Eventually, he turns his face towards the sky. “I have lived for a very, very long time. I have watched people die over and over again. I have caught so many glimpses of life, and I have learned much about the world here.
“And yet, so much of this is a mystery. Being what I am—death—makes experiencing life so very strange and foreign. The only thing that seems to ground me is being with you, kismet.
“This feeling I get when I’m with you is … there aren’t human words for it. It’s incomparable. All I can truly tell you is that when I hold you close to me, I am sure no one has ever felt as happy as I do.
“So, to answer your question, I don’t remember myself when I look at the sky.” He takes my hand and tilts his head to face me once more. “I remember myself when I look at you.”