Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,92
fracture around him.
Vaguely, I was aware of the depth of my depravity, fucking like an animal in a graveyard. Vaguely, I wondered if I might be smote down by God.
Resolutely, I decided if I died there and then while impaled on Priest’s long, ruthless cock, I’d die a happy sinner and live forever content in hell.
Those eyes you picture following you in the night, dark and feral, stalking you from the shadows? Those were the eyes looming above me now. The eyes of a predator pinning down its prey and taking his fill of the spoils. He fucked me with all the vigor of victory and the almost lazy arrogance of someone who was used to winning.
“Gonna come in this pretty, tight cunt,” Priest threatened as if his words didn’t bring me an inch closer to death.
I understood now why the French called it that, a little death.
It was fitting I was already in a grave of our own making.
“Gonna fill you up with cum so it leaks outta ya for days,” Priest continued, his eyes glazed and darker than the night around us. “Your poor, swollen cunt is gonna ache after this, and the only thing that can fix it is me slidin’ right back, isn’t that right, Bea?”
“Yes,” I agreed, head flopping from side to side, mud in my hair, snow in my eyes, my entire body focused only on the one central point inside my pussy he continued to drive against. “Yes, yes, Priest. Oh, my God, I love this. I-I love sinning like this with you.”
“Say it,” he ordered coldly, his words lashing harder than the wind against my face. His hand squeezed briefly too tight around my neck. “Wanna hear that sweet voice speak filth for me.”
“I want your cum,” I promised him, too far gone to feel the embarrassment I might normally have been overcome with. Instead, the words felt sweet as Fuzzy Peaches on my tongue. Sweet and elemental as snow. “I want you to come deep inside me. I want to feel you own me.”
That was it.
For both of us.
The sound of Priest, usually so silent and taciturn, overtaken by desire, growling and grunting with it as he fucked me so hard into the dirt, snapped the elastic band holding me together and both of us went spiralling.
Wheeling.
Falling.
All of it in the dark, in the cold, the two of us the only two beings for miles. The air around us steamed, gentle curls of hot air dissipating into the sky.
We breathed each other, mouths open, foreheads aligned. I could see Priest’s gaze, but it was all in shadow.
“You may be a killer,” I said softly, risking the ruination of our intimacy by pushing for more. It was in my nature to delve deeper into someone’s psyche. I could no more stop myself from pressing than I could from loving erotically charged pain. “But you aren’t heartless.”
My hand moved from his hair, over the crescent moon of his cheek, down his neck to rest on the steady, hard beat of his heart.
“If you own me, doesn’t that mean I own you?” I meant it as a question, but the cast of my voice made it a plea.
The quality of his stillness changed then. It solidified like water into ice, rain into the snow now thick in the air all around us, settling into a thin blanket over his back and hair.
I thought I’d lost him. Closing my eyes, I steeled myself for rejection, even knowing it would obliterate me.
“The only thing I can give you is my darkness, my desire, and the endless hunger I feel for you in my gut.”
My lids popped open to see Priest staring at me solemnly, so sombre and acute with something like self-hatred it felt like we were in a confessional.
“Okay,” I said immediately, letting the joy ricocheting inside me burst across my face. He blinked as if into the sun. “Okay, then.”
He kissed me then, a hard stamp of lips against lips, and it felt like an official seal on our declaration. I wasn’t sure if we were dating or not, if this meant we could have sleepovers and go on dates—all the rituals of courting—but I didn’t care. Priest wasn’t a normal man, and I was discovering I was nowhere close to a normal woman.
It felt good to acknowledge my otherness. I was happy to live in the shadows so long as I could hold his hand.