In a sharp movement, Saint suddenly rolled us, a flush filling my body as the shadows of his magic swarmed my frame. He held my ass and pounded up into me. My nails dug into his chest as I kept my gaze on his, a moan of relief breaking out as he hit a white-hot point of pain and pleasure. I whimpered in exhilaration as flashes of a different face melded with Saint’s, bone and shadows mixing and showing me what he looked like underneath those dark robes of his nightmare form.
Holy hell, he really was Death.
“I’m going to come,” I whimpered, my head falling back as my ability to stay upright began to weaken. He continued to fuck into me, faster and harder, and I sincerely wondered if something in me would shatter. There was no way I should have been able to handle this type of power for this long. My lungs felt as though they were compressing as that vacuum-like energy pulled on me, my pulse slowing as my pleasure reached another, much larger climax.
“Give me everything, Arabella.” Saint’s voice was a hard demand, and my body listened.
A gasp came from my throat, and I felt myself suspended over a cliff as I realized it was entirely possible that I was taking my last breath. My last heartbeat. My last everything.
It was worth it. I met his gaze and realized that it was absolutely worth it, because I never wanted him to doubt how much I loved him.
Oh fuck. I loved Saint.
My climax hit into me like a goddamn tsunami.
A connection snapped into place, jolting me as mind-numbing pleasure filled every ounce of me and life flooded back into my frame like an electric shock. I screamed out his name as everything turned into vibrant, metallic shades around me. My back hit the wall of my bedroom as Saint began to fuck me harder into the surface, my body vibrating with an energy that felt anything but human. I could feel every element of us, and I gripped his back, digging my nails in and drawing blood, needing to mark him.
“Fuck!” I screamed out as the wall behind us cracked, but he continued to fuck me against it, his face flashing between normal and something so much more as I felt myself mesmerized by the darkness there.
I could feel him. Every breath and every ounce of power. Our connection was complete, like a loop, and I found that I was watching him, holding onto him as tightly as he held me. I felt a strength inside of me that I could have never expected.
“Look at me.” His growl was almost inhuman as my eyes snapped open. “Watch me come inside of you. Tell me you’re fucking mine as I fill up this tight little pussy with my cum.”
“I’m yours,” I moaned.
“I own every fucking part of you,” he snarled, “Your body and soul.”
Didn’t I fucking know it.
I cried out as he slammed into me at a pace that should have shattered me. He had been holding back before our connection snapped into place, but no longer. The lights in the room flickered out as his entire body and mine lit up silver, my fingers both pushing and pulling away from him because he was so goddamn deep I could feel it in my fucking throat. A snarl echoed from his chest as he pounded into me faster and faster, until his lips seared to mine and slammed against me completely, my name between us from his lips.
Oh fuck.
I felt his cock pulse, growing larger and thicker, as he filled me completely with his cum, the satisfaction of it leaving me feeling dizzy with relief.
That was right about when I blacked out.
I was starting to understand the meaning behind la petite mort. It was clear to me an orgasm could very much feel like a transcendent, death-like experience.
Except the French got one part wrong in their euphemism… there was nothing ‘little’ about it.
Nope. Saint was not little in any way, especially according to the ache between my legs and the breathless moment before I came, when something irrevocably changed within me, making the moment anything but small or unimportant.
In fact, I think it was possibly one of the most pivotal moments in my life.
Something I would obviously never tell Saint, because come on—that would totally give him a big head.
To match his big cock?
Wow. Okay. I clearly was still not out of this lust-induced state. Maybe I needed to go through some type of ‘get Saint out of my head’ therapy. I could also try having sex with him again… just to make sure that’s the problem, of course.
“Arabella.” Saint’s voice was soft and persuasive as his lips brushed against my neck, bringing me from my internal thoughts that had slowly been dragging me out of unconsciousness. His muscular arms and bare chest were cool against my heated skin, and I stretched against him, refusing to open my eyes fully because I honestly wasn’t positive I was ready to wake up.
A small almost-moan broke from my lips as pleasure sparked throughout every nerve ending, making me shiver. Holy hell. That had been something else.
“I think I died,” I said somewhat in amusement as a low, husky chuckle left his lips, edged in something that I needed to see. I opened my eyes to find his gaze back to normal, his body wrapped around mine and a blanket pulled over both of us. The room was completely dark, and for just a moment I could pretend like there weren’t several things we needed to talk about.
“You did, actually.”
I blinked, processing his words before tilting my head in confusion. “What?”
He flashed a dangerous smile, his teeth nipping at my collarbone and making me moan. “You did die, but then you came back to life. Less than a second, really, but when I put my mating mark on your soul, your heart literally stopped beating.”
“Holy shit,” I mumbled, feeling slightly dazed by the revelation, and then smiled. “So we are really mates?”
“That was never in question.” His eyes flashed with a dark heat. “And no questions, really? I just told you that I essentially ripped your soul out during sex and killed you, while continuing to fuck you… and nothing?”
I blinked at him. “I have to be honest, it’s doing the opposite of scaring me.” In fact, it was turning me on.
His chuckle was louder, his smile authentic as he shook his head, his fingers brushing across my neck, his bite mark pulsating slightly. What? I was being honest! I mean, clearly, I was very much fine, so the notion didn’t bother me at all.
“I have known you were my mate since I first arrived here,” he admitted after a moment, his voice turning softer as he looked down at me. I felt a blush run over my cheeks. “God terrors have ‘fated’ mates of sorts, and I just never expected to find mine, but when I was called here… well, it became pretty obvious why.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
“Besides the fact that I had to get a hold on myself before I fucking ripped you from Razar’s arms and claimed you on your bedroom floor?” he mused, his eyes sparking at the idea of the challenge, no doubt.
“You were that attracted to me?”
My pulse jumped as his eyes looked down at my neck. I could feel a bond between us, and the pride in his chest made me feel a sense of warmth and affection for him, thrilled that my reaction to him made him happy. Man, this was a lot of warm fuzzy feelings.
“God terrors don’t feel any form of desire until they meet their mates,” he informed me softly as my brows went up.
“So you were never attracted—”