I bite her shoulder again until blood beads, licking it up while I slam harder, faster. The bond flares, white-hot, and I shove my thumb on her clit, grinding in cruel, tight circles. She spasms, screaming as her orgasm tears through her body so violently I feel it rip through me, the bond crackling like lightening. I keep fucking her through it, harder, punishing her and worshipping at once. My hips pound against hers until she’s sobbing incoherently and her mascara runs in black rivets down her face. I slam into her until she’s shaking apart, until my balls slap wetly against her ass and I can no longer hold back.
Growling her name, I bury my teeth in her throat as I spill inside her. My cock jerks, filling her so full it leaks down her thighs. I grind through it, owning every fucking twitch untilshe’s wrecked, sobbing, and clinging to me like she can’t breathe without me.
No worries, little fox. You’re the air in my lungs too.
We collapse together onto the ruined mattress in the corner of the room, her thighs sticky, her throat bruised, and my chest scored bloody. The room stinks of sex, sweat, and iron. I hold her the way a man holds something holy and fragile, palm flat across the curve of her back, my fingers splayed so she knows exactly where I am.
“So, that was new,” she says with a breathless laugh. “But you cheated. No normal man has that much speed when having sex.”
I smirk against her temple. “It wasn’t my abilities that made you scream like that. That was all cock,Lisichka.”
She smacks my chest weakly with a ruined laugh. “You’re insufferable.”
Cupping her chin, I gently lift her face so I can peer into her eyes. “And you, my beautiful wife, are my insufferable little slut.”
Cressida moans, curling against me tighter, still trembling. “Goddess, help me, but I am. And I like it.”
I laugh softly and decide to tease her. “Where is your rebellion?”
“Meh. I’ll get back to it tomorrow. Rebellious in the streets, freak in the sheets, and all that.”
Fuck, I love this woman.
I kiss her temple, my cock still hard inside her. “You’ll never outrun me again.”
Her eyes shoot sparks at me. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Even used and shaking, she’s still got fire.
Gripping her jaw, I force her mouth to mine, kissing her filthy and deep, moving my hips gently. “That’s a promise. And tomorrow, I’ll ruin you so deeply again that you won’t be able to walk without feeling the way I abused your pretty little cunt tonight.”
Thunder rattles the asylum as if the sky is applauding. The ghosts don’t speak either, because even the dead know better than to break the fight between the monsters who love each other in a way that tastes like war.
Just as I’m about to claim my woman again, a rush of coldness fills the air around us and the hair on my arms rise. We’re closing in on the witching hour, and the residents of this building are beginning to get restless with so many people in their space.
I sigh, kissing her forehead, before lifting her gently from my lap. “We should get out of here. I still don’t trust that Giselda won’t make a move.”
“Why do you think she didn’t?”
Fucking hate the tremor of fear in her voice. I curl my fingers around the back of her neck, holding her in place. “Because we were expecting it. The Reaper likes toying with us.”
“Well, whatever her reason, I’m happy that this day wasn’t ruined for us.”
“You’re happy?” I ask, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
Cressida’s palm touches my cheek, her fingers wrapping around my jawline. “Yeah, monster man. I’m happy.” She brushes a soft kiss against my lips before standing and looking around. “My dress, however, is not.”
“I’m not sorry about it.”
She giggles, the sound bright and free. “Me either. It was hot. But I can’t exactly leave here in my birthday suit.”
“Damn straight,” I growl, climbing to my feet. “All of this is mine.”
I grab my shirt from the dusty floor, shaking it out, and then pulling it over her shoulders. My fingers still when I get to the top button, my eyes latching onto the bite marks I left on her neck.
Leaning down, I brush my lips gently over them. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
