Page 16 of Divine Fate (Cursed Legacies #4)

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CRYPT

There’s no escape.

Only, caught in this moonlit, lust-drenched memory once again, escape is the last thing on my mind.

My tongue traces up the side of Maven’s neck as she rolls her hips again, mercilessly riding me toward that brink of perfect pleasure as her divinely wet cunt squeezes my pierced cock. Her breathless sounds compounded with the groans of the others as they watch make for a sinful symphony.

We’re all frenzied with need for her, thanks to the show Frost put on, preparing her. He’d spared no effort eating her out, toying and teasing until, for the first time, I got to see my keeper drench the sheets of this Sanctuary abode.

Frost hadn’t lasted through that sensual performance, which was lucky because now Decimus and I get to worship my dark darling together.

On cue, just before I can reach that tantalizing peak, Decimus pulls Maven from my arms and into his lap. Thrusting up into her, he captures her mouth with his so he gets to taste the beautiful moan that elicits.

I will never tire of the sight of my keeper like this. Flushed and overwhelmed, her dark hair tossed over her back as her sinuous, smooth, olive-toned body moves like pure poetry. Her euphoric expression leaves me breathless as I watch her chase her release, clinging to Decimus as we all adore the view.

They fall together over that brink of pleasure, but I’m not done with her.

Maven gasps when I immediately pull her away, rolling and pinning her to the bed before plunging my aching cock back into her wet warmth. Somewhere nearby, Frost swears brokenly and Crane mutters something under his breath, but I’m too far gone to take note of it.

I’m so fucking desperate for her.

Desperate to have my emblem on her—to be bound.

This powerful, beautiful, stunning woman is going to be my muse if it’s the last godsdamned thing I do. She swears, her fingertips dragging down my back as I fuck her like I’m dying.

But then again, I am.

Yet these moments of unadulterated obsession embed themselves inside me so deeply that no matter what becomes of me, there is no going back. And as her pleasure rises again, I bite down on my own tongue to try to fend off my release, tasting blood but needing to give her everything I can.

I wanted to give her everything I could of myself, right until the end.

The fact that my obsession drew her last breath before I did is an agonizing realization that seeps into this memory, pounding at my skull.

In this cycle, even the beautiful moments have become brutal.

Finally, Maven’s gasp of pleasure graces my ears before I feel her clench around me—and I’m lost. I shout, burying my face into her neck as the pleasure crests, and at long last, I’m left holding her close.

“Gods,” Maven laughs breathlessly, kissing my jaw.

I kiss her before rolling off, watching with lingering desire as Frost moves on the bed to kiss her next, brushing hair out of her face.

“I’ll help you shower,” he offers, voice thick.

Our keeper peeks over to where Crane is watching with lust-filled eyes. “Silas will. He’s thirsty,” she adds with a grin.

That’s the blood fae’s final straw before he scoops Maven up from the bed and marches her into the bathroom. Water starts, but we all hear another one of her delicious gasps as Crane does something wicked to her.

“Dear gods, those sounds she makes are going to kill me,” Frost groans, dropping onto the bed.

He never bothered undressing fully, but Decimus is naked as the day he was born as he sighs happily, folding his arms behind his head. “Don’t get my hopes up, Professor Popsicle.”

“Fuck you, lizard.”

“Hell yeah, she did,” Decimus grins. “And now the sweet scent of her pussy will send me off to the best sleep of my fucking life.”

Frost begins to protest that the shifter will be sleeping on the floor because he’s far too large to fit on this bed with everyone else, but all my attention moves to the pain that blossoms throughout my body. My markings light up as a pull in my gut tells me there’s trouble in Limbo.

I can’t tend to it. I can only endure it.

There’s no escape .

The memories change again, taunting and tormenting me as I relive everything over again. My desolate childhood. The empty years leading up to the moment I saw her on that stage. And finally, the darkness that consumed me after Maven took her final breath.

When she was gone, I craved even the barest shadow of her.

But I loathed reminders.

And so, when I came across one of Syntyche’s temples while hunting a fleeing necromancer, bitterness made its way through the walls I’d put up.

She was going to be my muse.

Now that she was gone, the temple where we would have gone for the ritual mocked me.

Weeks of mayhem followed as I infused temples with mania, watched the holy workers turn on each other, and observed worshippers melt into madness. I ended anyone who tried to go to the now-desecrated temples until finally, everyone stopped trying.

Punishing the gods for taking my darling keeper away became my highest priority?—

Until she found me.

Death herself.

Obscured in darkness and wielding a scythe while unspeakable fear emanated from her very being, Syntyche found me in Arati’s temple. There was no escaping the goddess of dreams by slipping into the dream realm, nor was there escape from her wrath to be found anywhere else.

The agony of another memory begins again, my own subconsciousness suffocating me as this unending punishment goes on. There will never be an escape.

But in this torture, my keeper exists. Even numbed and buried in the weight of my own broken existence, I cannot resist even the cruelest memories of her.