Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,58

way it would never die, even if I did. I wanted her to live the rest of her life with the mar of me on her previously pure skin.

“I-I-I can’t,” Bea whispered hoarsely as I ruthlessly used her tight pussy and angled a finger in over her clit. “I feel like I’m going to shatter.”

I abandoned my grip on her hair to ruck her up against me, palming her throat in my hand so I could tip her head sideways to land a searing kiss on her mouth. I ate her gasping moans of capitulation of her tongue and felt her pulse flutter madly under my thumb. “So shatter. I wanna feel your cum and your blood drench my cock. And Bea? I’ll reward you by comin’ deep inside your snug cunt.”

“Holy shit,” she hissed as her pussy clamped down on my next thrust, and her whole body set to shaking. I had never felt more like a god of the underworld as I felt her quake open for me, and then, finally, in a series of breathy exclamations of my own name tangled with her God’s, she came all over me.

The splash of her cum on my cock felt like a baptism, like a holy fucking revelation. I seated myself in her as my spine tingled, balls tightening, and then I came, hot seed spurting at the entrance to her womb. I held her tight to me, so tight our hearts seemed to beat as one while we climaxed simultaneously.

And I knew heaven.

For the first time in my life, I knew why people believed in some fallacy, and I wanted to believe in it too.

Because this? Bea in my arms, on my cock, shyly, sweetly nuzzling her head back into the crook of my neck and shoulder as she gave me her entire, exhausted weight?

This was pleasure more brilliant than any I had ever known.

It blinded me, forcing me to blink, blink away the hot, prickling sensation at the back of my eyes. I felt something like the hand of fate fisted my heart in its grip and refused to let go.

Before Bea, I had never been so aware of the organ in my chest romantics loved to hyperbolize about. The idea that the heart could break or clench, skip a beat in a way that meant more than just a dangerous palpitation was just blatantly nonsensical. Now, I was learning there was some truth to it, a kernel, as there usually was, at the heart of every fable.

With Bea, I’d never been more aware of that blood pumping organ and its performance as played under the siren song of her influence.

“I don’t think I can walk,” Bea mused, sleepiness diluting her cheeky remark.

I ignored her.

Because something was happening to me, something that threatened to overwhelm everything. Those beasts in their chains and cages at the back of my mind rattled horribly, threatening to break free.

I pushed away from Bea as if scalded.

She turned to face me, instinctively covering her breasts and swollen, leaking sex. Something in my expression made her flinch, her full mouth flattening.

But I could only stare blankly at her, swallowing quick and thick again and again to force the demons back.

“Priest,” she said softly, inquiringly, needing me to assuage her vulnerability.

I focused on my breath, the harsh drag of it into my lungs and out through my mouth. There was a crack in the foundation of my life threatening to collapse everything I’d ever known.

A previously unknown portion of my brain reminded me that life grew in the cracks, the earth pushing up through those imperfections to fill them with green and flowers.

Still, panic fizzed and popped between my ears, obscuring my vision with black splotches.

“Priest,” Bea repeated, stronger this time. She moved toward me, a blurry shape in my bleary stare. I flinched when she reached for me, catching her hand too hard in my grip. She didn’t shy away from the viciousness in my gaze when our eyes met. Instead, she tipped her chin up, little thing that she was, so she could maintain contact. “Priest, it’s okay.”

My lips pulled back over my teeth, my thoughts gone to static so only instinct reigned. I glowered at her, a low rumble of warning in my throat. I squeezed her hand tighter until I felt every contour of the delicate bones beneath her skin.

I wanted something.

Something more than ruin, ruin, ruin.

My cock, coated in her juices, in her blood, cooled in the frigid air pouring