Page 26

Then he grabbed me by the hips and dragged my ass to the edge.

His large hands slipped underneath my shirt to the panties below and pulled them down, lifting my ass slightly to get them off and free of my ankles.

He normally left my socks in place, but he slid them off in the humid climate because I no longer needed them for warmth.

Then he yanked up my shirt to expose my tits before he gathered my hips and adjusted me to take him, his hands pressing into the backs of my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh.

He inserted two of his big fingers inside me, pushed deep and made me wince and moan, and smeared my arousal over the head of his dick to reduce the friction between us. Then he began his entrance, slowly inching his way deeper, filling every available space in my channel until he was fully buried.

It hurt and it always would hurt, but I wouldn’t change anything. He was a man worth hurting for. It made me come faster than I ever had, his length an inherent turn-on, his size matching the rest of his enormity.

A mountain over the sea, he thrust inside me gently, knowing my body well enough now not to give me more than I could take, always stopping before he hit the dead end.

A god both beautiful and terrifying ruled over my body like it was his lands.

His hand left one of my thighs, and he squeezed my small tits with his callused warmth.

Then he moved his hand to my throat and squeezed just enough to make me pant for more breath.

His thumb swiped up over my jawline, and then he slid it into my partially open mouth.

As if he didn’t remember how to be human, he examined me like a specimen.

He felt the softness of my lips, pressed his thumb against my tongue, continued to thrust inside me as he explored the rest of me.

I clutched his hard forearm and moaned as he gripped my throat again, his dick starting to pound inside me.

The waves crashed on the shore outside, loud in the presence of the full moon.

His eyes were as dark as night as they gazed upon me, focused in their intensity and almost angry in their possession.

The sight alone was enough to make me come.

I felt his fingers tighten around my throat as I slipped under his spell.

My body tightened, and I gripped his length firmly from within, coating him in the flood of arousal my body released just for him.

I’d initially fucked him to pay off a debt, but now I fucked him to line my own pockets.

It was obvious that he enjoyed himself, but he didn’t struggle to contain his desires. He could be in the moment with me without bridling his desire, enjoy my performance without ending the show.

On an untouched island away from the rest of humanity, we moved together on that bed, the heat making my skin sweat slightly, the salty air entering my lungs.

The ocean continued to pound against the shore, paradise just a short walk away.

I didn’t have to sail months to get there.

All I had to do was take the God of the Underworld by the hand.

I woke up the next morning to warm sunshine on the sheets.

The doors had been left open last night, and now the waves were quiet in the dawn. My hand reached for the powerful man beside me, but I felt nothing but his absence. I slowly stirred, so comfortable that I never wanted to rise, but my body was lonely without his company.

I left the bed but didn’t don any clothes, remembering that no one else was there with us. I looked out the doors and scanned the beach and then the mountain in search of the man too large to blend in with anything.

Then I spotted him carrying two pails over his shoulders, shirtless and glistening with sweat, carrying gallons of water on his strong spine with ease.

His eyes met mine when he drew close, but he didn’t acknowledge me with words.

He took a knee and set down the pails that were tied to a branch he had balanced across his shoulders.

One pail was full of fresh water he’d collected from a nearby stream, and the other was full of fruit he had picked.

Pineapples, passion fruit, bananas. “I can hunt if you need something more substantial.”

My eyes were transfixed on his immaculate body, his sheer strength and his quiet masculinity. “You’re substantial enough.” I moved into him and rose on my tiptoes, but it was still a struggle to meet his lips with mine.

He hesitated at the affection like he hadn’t expected it.

Then he scooped his arms under my ass, and he lifted me so our mouths could meet without strain.

I was a tall woman because my father was tall.

I trained with men and wore armor and wielded swords, so my body was tight with muscle.

But he carried me like I was a bouquet of spring flowers.

He carried me back to bed and bent me underneath him before he sank, giving a moan when he claimed me once more. “ Xivin …”

We sat together in the shade of the palm tree on the beach and watched the waves meet the shore. I drank the water and enjoyed the succulent fruit while he stared out at the sea.

“You don’t want any?”

His eyes remained on the horizon, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

“I notice you never eat or drink.”

“It’s not my preference.”

“Then what do you eat?”

“I don’t.”

“Never?” I asked incredulously.

All he did was shake his head.

“Do you sleep? Every time I wake up, you’re already awake.” I noticed it every time we were together. Even when I woke up in the middle of the night to pee, he was wide awake as if he’d been that way the entire time.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Sleep is for rest,” he said. “I don’t need rest.”

He was hard to the touch, had emotion in his eyes, felt as real as anyone else. But sometimes I forgot he wasn’t real. He wasn’t a mortal man like my other lovers. He wasn’t alive…or dead. “Do you miss those things?”

“It’s hard to miss something that you’ve forgotten. I don’t sleep because I don’t need it. When there’s no need, there’s no desire. I don’t feel hunger either, so I don’t crave food the way you do.”

“Then how are you so big?”

“This was my appearance when I came to the underworld.”

So, he’d been this strong as a human man. If I’d seen him walk by in the village or in the fields, my mouth would have gone dry until I had a drink. My stomach would have gnawed until I had a taste. “You look more like a soldier than a carpenter.”

“Soldiers are trained to fight, and then they stand around and wait for a provocation. But on a daily basis, I moved stone and built tiles and carried game over my shoulder. I was never at rest, always working, always providing.”

“Do you miss it?”

His eyes didn’t leave the water.

“I hope that wasn’t an offensive question.”

“I don’t miss it. Not when everyone I ever loved has been dead for hundreds of years. The house I built with my bare hands is gone. Everyone I ever knew has been replaced by descendants I wouldn’t recognize in the market. I can’t say there’s much enjoyment in the underworld, but I tolerate it.”

He was the God of the Underworld when we met, but he’d become something else to me. A man with a beating heart and warm flesh. “What’s it like there?”

“I told you.”

“I mean, are there other people there? Is it just you and…the people who’ve forsaken their souls?”

His arms rested on his knees, and he dug his feet deeper into the sand.

“It’s complicated. The forsaken who arrive through the funnel are made into servants…

and other things. The underworld is this world but inverted and without light or life.

It looks so different, you barely know they’re mirrors of each other.

And yes, there are others, the Covenant and its followers. ”

I hadn’t expected something so complex. “What’s the Covenant?”

He hadn’t looked at me once during this conversation.

His cooperation was thinner than a split hair.

“It’s complicated.” There should be more to the story, but he never shared it.

“The biggest difference between the two places is that the land of the living has a diversity of both good and evil. And down below…there’s only one type.

Some are smarter and more calculating than others, but overall, they’re all vile. ”

I stared at the side of his face. “You don’t seem vile.”

“Which is why I keep to myself mostly.”

“How do you do that as King of the Dead?”

“It sounds like a position of power, but it’s a position of servitude.”

“Who do you serve?—”

“Your company gives me joy.” He turned to look at me, his eyes not angry, but solemn in quiet sadness. “I don’t want to squander these moments thinking or talking about my eternal servitude.”

I’d never pitied someone so much. There was a grip of emotion on my heart, a pain that clutched my chest so tightly it was hard to breathe. But showing that sadness would only make it worse, so I let it lie. “Your company gives me joy too.”