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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 happened when 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 breath for 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.

I turned on my side and faced him, pulling the sheet to my shoulder to fight the cold. “No.”

The hardness faded, not turning soft, but not callous either.

“I just thought you would leave after you got what you wanted.”

His stare continued, slowly sharpening. He removed his arm from behind his head and turned on his side, his large body blocking the window from my sight.

“I haven’t gotten what I wanted—not even close.

” He slid his hand under the sheets and grabbed the back of my thigh before he hooked it over his hip, bringing our bodies close together.

My socks were still on, so I couldn’t feel the backs of his legs with the pads of my toes.

But I could feel his warmth against my inner thigh, feel his hard muscle from thigh and ass. He was all man, from head to toe.

I could also feel his hard length against my stomach because it was impossible to ignore. It was practically a branch from a fallen tree, thick like a trunk. It radiated its own heat against my flesh.

He was rock hard like he wanted me, but he didn’t initiate another round. He shared my pillow, and he moved his big hand up my soft thigh to my ass. His fingers gripped the muscle and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Did you start the fire?” I whispered.

He brought me closer to him, my tits almost touching his mountain-like chest. “You were cold.”

“I’m definitely not cold now.” I had the fire against my rear and his flames against my front.

It was the most relaxed I’d been with him, the most peace I’d felt since before I’d left on my journey.

Wrath was the only one who knew what I’d endured because he was there, keeping me going every step of the way.

“What did you do to the men on that ship?”

He moved his hand to my lower back, and his fingers gently grazed my soft skin.

“How did you help me get away?” I pressed.

“There are dangerous things that live in the deep. I commanded one of them to destroy all those on board—except for you.”

“How—how did you do that?”

“I’m God of the Underworld and King of the Dead. I can command any corpse to rise and fulfill my orders.”

“Are you saying the creature that attacked the ship was dead?”

“Yes.”

That was not what I expected.

“A kraken.”

“What is that?”

“A giant squid.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that.” And I’d sailed the seas for six months.

“Then consider yourself lucky.”

None of the sailors had mentioned it either. Perhaps they were just too afraid to talk about it, like it might overhear their words. “I can touch you, and you can touch me. But you didn’t reveal yourself to others in my company. Didn’t raise your sword and fight when I needed your aid.”

“You didn’t need my aid—not until the end,” he said. “And it doesn’t work that way. I don’t interfere with the living, only the dead.”

“Raising a giant octopus to kill everyone on a ship doesn’t count as interference?” I asked incredulously.

A slight smirk moved over his lips. “I didn’t directly interfere. I can touch you and feel you because you came to my lands. That barrier between us is broken.”

“So…could you take me to the underworld?”

“Yes,” he said. “I can take you to many places.”

My heart started to race.

He seemed to feel it in my pulse somewhere on my body because he said, “I vow never to take your life or your soul without your explicit consent. Do not fear me.” He slid his hand into my hair, and just like last time, it took my breath away.

My hand gripped his wrist, and I briefly closed my eyes. “I can end this now if I wish?” I’d fulfilled my obligation, bedded him once, and now I could terminate this arrangement and never see him again.

He said nothing, just stared at me with a silent command.

I could wipe my hands clean and walk away. I could carry on with my life and never tell my father what had transpired. But once I dismissed Wrath from my life, he would be gone forever…and that brought me such an intense wave of sadness.

“Yes.” Wrath continued to stare at me. “But you won’t.”

I spent the next few days alone.

I took my sailboat out on the water and fished for my dinner.

I stayed close to the cliffs and in sight of other sailboats.

The water was flat and calm, the sunlight dancing on the surface, the air crisp from the chill of the morning.

When I returned home, I prepared the fish with fresh lemon and rice and had dinner alone with my favorite bottle of white wine.

I used to enjoy being alone, but now I was used to sharing space on a ship full of comrades where you barely had a moment to yourself to think. Whenever I thought of them, I remembered they were dead, and that stung every time.

I set my dishes in the sink to worry about another time, and when I turned around, I saw the behemoth of a man leaning against the counter in the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes quiet and demanding.

He was shirtless, like he had one thing on his mind.

“Should I make all my nights free in case you stop by?”

“It would be preferable.” He pushed off the counter with his hips and came toward me, thick arms by his sides, his dark eyes formidable.

I should be afraid of this god, this man who could still kill the living…

indirectly . But I found myself at ease in his presence, other than the rush of heat that made me burn hotter than a lit pyre.

He cornered me into the counter, his hands moving to the edge on either side of me, boxing me in with nowhere to go—except farther into him.

My face was at his chest, and it suddenly felt humid and tropical, like I was on one of those white beaches I loved so much.

My body felt an invisible pull, and my forehead rested against the center of his chest, the hardness underneath the warm flesh.

My hands went to his hips, lightly touching the fabric of his trousers and then his warm skin just above it.

His torso rippled from the muscle underneath the skin.

I let my fingers explore as I stared at his chest and the valleys between his rows of abs.

“I feel your sadness.”

“I’m sad a lot these days.”

His hands left the counter and moved to my ass. He lifted me up and placed me on the counter, bringing our eyes almost level. “I see you look upon the horizon like you expect to see someone sail into your sight. I see you long for a life that’s different from your own.”

Whenever I sailed, I felt alive…and also alone. “You were watching me?”

“I watch you often.”

“Then why not reveal yourself to me?”

“Because I know it’s not the time,” he said. “Tell me of your sorrow.”

“It’s hard not to think of them whenever I’m on the water.” Hard not to think about the fact that Davin would never sail again. That so many good men were lost at sea because of a storm and awful men who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wrath didn’t apologize or fill the silence with empty words. He just continued to stare at me.

“I know I need to move past it and be grateful I’m alive?—”

“You don’t need to do anything,” he said simply. “Everyone grieves differently. Some people grieve for a time. And some people grieve for always.”