Page 192 of Famine

“Damnit, Famine,” I rasp.

The horseman doesn’t respond, too busy thrusting in and out of me, each movement slowly forcing my pussy to better accommodate him.

I part my lips, a dozen different responses at the ready, but then the horseman begins laying into me, his hips slapping against mine, making my body jerk with every aggressive thrust.

My breath comes in shallow pants. The two of us stare at each other as he rails me.

All at once the Reaper pulls out. Still holding me up, he carries me over to the bed that was brought in only hours ago. He tosses me onto the sheets.

Around us, the room has morphed into something fantastical. Several small trees now crowd the space, their branches fanning out across the ceiling. And in the midst of it all there’s Famine, with his glowing tattoos. He’s much like this room—fantastical.

Before I can do much more than take him in, he grabs me by the ankles and flips me onto my stomach. The bed dips as he joins me, and I feel his lips skim the up curve of my back.

He brushes the hair away from my neck.

“Take it back,” he whispers into my ear.

Is he still thinking about my comments on his skills as a lover? Because if he is …

I arch into him. “No,” I breathe.

The horseman kisses my shoulder, and I feel his smile against my skin. Then he drives into me.

I let out a small sound, my body going boneless as he fits himself back into me. His cock pumps in and out relentlessly, and I can barely do more than fist the sheets.

I am all sensation, powerless to do much more than enjoy each deep stroke of his.

“I was going to make love to you slowly,” he says against the shell of my ear. “I was going to be gentle—and you know I’m not gentle by nature—but now I have a point to prove.”

I shudder at the sound of his husky voice. Even it has the power to pull me deep under his spell—it always has.

“Areyou going to prove it?” I pant. “Or are you going to waste all your time chatting with me?”

His hips go still, and I can feel that unnatural gaze on my back.

I hear his laugh, and a very real chill runs up my spine.

Famine slips a hand between my stomach and my legs. He finds my clit, even as he’s hammering into me. The horseman rolls it between his fingers, andJesus.

A low moan escapes me before I can stop it.

Oh God, he’s going to end this for me way before I’m ready. Everything feels so unimaginably good.

“Famine,” I gasp. My climax isright there. Another stroke or two and I’m done. “Famine, I …”

Suddenly, his fingers are gone.

My orgasm, which had been building up, now falters.

“Say it,” he says.

“Damn you.” This bastard.

“Just tell me the truth, little liar—that I am an exceptional lover—and then I’ll give you your orgasm.”

“No,” I say. I didn’t even want to come at the moment.

“Fine.”