Page 167 of Till Death

“Can’t you see I’m not safe? You have to run while you still can. Go home, Deyanira. Live. I am only his son now. Only his.”

“You are not his,” I growled. “You are mine. And I will stand between you and Death until he forgets you exist. Until the gods return. Until they all fall. Until this realm becomes a pinprick of a memory in a universe that transcends time. He can do whatever he wants to me, and I will not bend. I will not break. I will not leave you.”

“I am dangerous!” he yelled, stepping away, eyes flashing black, teeth clenching.

I got right back in his face, shoving him, pushing him to fight with me, to be with me in whatever capacity he could. “Not to me.”

“To everyone.”

Another scream, another pained look on his face as he tried and failed to fight the pull to it. He turned away, taking several steps toward the sound. I grabbed him, yanking his wrist until he spun back. “Stay with me.”

He took a shuddering breath, facing the castle, then back to me, waging war. “Whatever your plan is, all of your eternity is mine. Should it be torture or rivalry, I will help you conquer it. Should you wish the souls of Death’s court to their knees, I will build a mountain of bones for you to stand on. I will forge a crown and place it on your head, and I will be the first to bow. And I will eviscerate anyone who does not follow suit.”

The gleam in his eyes shifted through a thousand emotions until he landed on hunger. He was on me in a second, hands on my face once more, lips to mine in desperation. Tongue and teeth as I opened for him, letting him taste me, have me in whatever way he wanted. Shadows enveloped us, creeping from the ground and smothering us in darkness as I gasped, but he gripped my waist, holding me steady until they fell away, revealing a dark room lit only with candles. So many candles lined the floor in clusters, and the ivory wax dripped carelessly, circling a bed in the center of the room.

“Are you afraid?” His words were a brush against my lips and also laced with their own level of fear, as if I would deny him.

Tension coiled low in my belly, remembering what it felt like to have him inside of me. Worshiping me. “I don’t fear the dark, Orin. I need it. And you need my light. We are bound because of it. Touch me. Use me. Take whatever you want from me because I am yours.”

I let the magic free until my skin began to glow. He traced a finger over my palm. Then slid a hand to the buckle holding the last of my throwing knives to my chest. He let them fall to the floor before gripping the ends of my shirt and pulling it over my head, the fabric brushing my overly sensitive skin, desperate for him to taste every inch. Shadows surrounded both of us, stealing the remnants of our clothing in less than a breath.

With a flash of darkness, he moved backward, head tilting as I lost him in that moment. I watched as he became consumed, instantly changing into something feral, someone far more dangerous. I lowered my chin, a dare in my eyes as I stalked forward.

“You want me. You know you do.”

“I want to watch you suffer,” he said.

“Then come and get me, Husband.”

He wasn’t tender as he laid a palm against my chest and shoved me against the wall. Still, that contact was enough to push the power back, spinning his hatred into lust.

He pressed his hot mouth to a nipple, sucking as he dragged me toward the bed, his hold never faltering, drawing the light to counter the dark. He moved a hand down my thigh, resting it where Chaos should have been as he nipped my neck. I moaned. With a flick of his wrist and a tendril of shadow, my blade appeared in his hand. “You really should keep better care of your weapons.”

“I’ll try harder,” I managed, as he dropped the blade to the floor.

I reached for the button on his pants, but he pulled away, clicking his tongue with a salacious grin. “Naughty Nightmare. There’s no rush.”

But again, as he held a distance, the darkness took over.

I spread my legs on the bed, drawing a finger down my slick center, stopping to circle my clit as I held eye contact. His jaw ticked when I gasped at my touch, arching on the bed, inviting him closer, inviting him to claim me as he once had.

“Don’t you want to taste it, Husband?” I moved my fingers to my mouth, and he faltered, stumbling forward. “Come closer and I’ll let you. I promise.”

He glared.

I smiled, sliding my palm down my body again, plunging two fingers into my own core, toying with his anger.

He reached for me with greedy hands, flipping me over on the bed as he fell on my back and hissed into my ear. “You deserve to be punished for that.”

I lifted from the bed, pressing into his hard cock and wiggling. “Then do it, Husband. And make sure it fucking hurts.”

With one hand gripping my waist, holding me up from the bed, he slammed a palm across my ass. The quick, sharp sting raced over me, eliciting a moan before he smoothed his fingers over the spot.

“Again,” I begged him, forcing as much contact as possible.

His eager compliance was a dream. Orin reached around, circling my clit as he growled from behind me. “This won’t be gentle.”

I could hardly think around the sensation of his perfect strokes, but still, I trembled with eager anticipation when he wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked me backward at the same time he slammed into me with absolutely no warning. He groaned, pausing for only a second before pulling out and thrusting once more.