Famine (The Four Horsemen #3) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,141

he is …

I arch into him. “No,” I breathe.

The horseman kisses my shoulder, and I feel his smile against my skin. Then he drives into me.

I let out a small sound, my body going boneless as he fits himself back into me. His cock pumps in and out relentlessly, and I can barely do more than fist the sheets.

I am all sensation, powerless to do much more than enjoy each deep stroke of his.

“I was going to make love to you slowly,” he says against the shell of my ear. “I was going to be gentle—and you know I’m not gentle by nature—but now I have a point to prove.”

I shudder at the sound of his husky voice. Even it has the power to pull me deep under his spell—it always has.

“Are you going to prove it?” I pant. “Or are you going to waste all your time chatting with me?”

His hips go still, and I can feel that unnatural gaze on my back.

I hear his laugh, and a very real chill runs up my spine.

Famine slips a hand between my stomach and my legs. He finds my clit, even as he’s hammering into me. The horseman rolls it between his fingers, and Jesus.

A low moan escapes me before I can stop it.

Oh God, he’s going to end this for me way before I’m ready. Everything feels so unimaginably good.

“Famine,” I gasp. My climax is right there. Another stroke or two and I’m done. “Famine, I …”

Suddenly, his fingers are gone.

My orgasm, which had been building up, now falters.

“Say it,” he says.

“Damn you.” This bastard.

“Just tell me the truth, little liar—that I am an exceptional lover—and then I’ll give you your orgasm.”

“No,” I say. I didn’t even want to come at the moment.

“Fine.”

His fingers are back on my clit, and somehow his heavy, punishing strokes deepen.

Once again my orgasm begins to build, coiling up inside of me—

He removes his hand.

“Say it.”

I’m not proud of it, but I think a sob slips out.

“Stop toying with me,” I say.

“Flower, you invented this game. Now, say it.” He’s still moving lightly in and out of me, but he’s withholding his powerful thrusts—the ones that will make me come.

“You are the devil.”

“Nope,” Famine responds smoothly. “He’s nicer than me.”

The horseman’s hand moves back to my clit, and it begins all over again. I’ve been having so much fun baiting the Reaper that I didn’t realize he had been baiting me.

I exhale, then arch against him.

“You’re not a great lover—” I begin.

Already, I can feel Famine reacting, ready to torment me some more.

“—you’re the best lover I’ve ever had.”

It’s easy to admit because it’s the truth. Everything about the sex we have is entangled—our limbs, our wills, our very personalities.

I feel his breath at my back. Finally, he kisses the juncture between my shoulder and neck.

“Thank you, flower,” he says. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

The fuck?

But then his adept fingers find my clit and he’s driving into me and touching me and touching me and it’s impossible to fight—

I cry out as my orgasm goes off, lashing through me. Famine continues to stroke my clit, stretching my climax out. But as he does so, I feel his body tighten. And then, with a groan, he empties himself into me, pistoning in and out until he’s spent.

Famine finally withdraws, and then all of that intensity transforms into something that is gentle. His palms glide over my arms and he kisses my shoulders and my scarred back.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs against me.

I flip over and touch his cheek, my thumb rubbing against his skin. He turns his head to kiss my palm.

I can’t believe I get this man. Or deity. Not even sure at this point what he is.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Famine says, staring down at me.

I swallow, looking back up at him. “This is too good to be true. You’re too good to be true.”

He laughs at that. “Too good to be true? You wound me, flower. I haven’t built a reputation of violence and destruction to be so easily complimented.”

After a moment, he asks, “Are you still scared of this bed?”

I furrow my brows. He remembers my hesitation?

“I was never scared,” I admit.

He lays down next to me and pulls me close. “Then what were you thinking about when you were staring at it?”

“Like I said, this is all too good to be true. And good things don’t happen to me.”

Famine’s eyes go soft, and it’s an attractive look on him. “That’s not