67 Birdie #3
The shadows pool out of him, even in this rendered form.
The creature within is too powerful for the magic of the render to contain.
I feel the shadows coil around my ankles like silk binds, holding my feet in the air.
Slowly, they spread me wider, opening me for that creeping tendril to push its way deeper inside my ass.
I’m a trembling mess, pinned to the bed by Dáinn’s cock and now his shadows. He sinks in with his hips, his cock filling my pussy. Another gentle movement and the press of his shadows inside me leaves me feeling ready to burst.
Groaning, he lowers his mouth to brush his parted lips against mine. “This is how you should always be . . . full up of me in all your holes, feeding me with your sweet soul.”
I shiver, rocking my hips against him. “Can wraiths come?”
“This render is exquisite. I shall not leave you wanting.”
“Come inside me,” I beg. “God, I need it. Need you to fill me. Leave me with something, any piece of you. Dáinn, please—”
He silences me with a kiss, his body rocking against mine.
I don’t know where he ends and I begin. Wrapped in his shadows inside and out, there is no beginning or end.
There is only us. I feel myself standing on the edge of something, ready to leap off.
There’ll be no coming back from this. The Virginia Rhodes I was when I first came to this island is gone. What now will take her place?
My release shatters me. I’m crying out his name, trembling in his arms as he shouts, filling me with cum.
He fills me so full, there’s nowhere left for it to go.
It leaks out around his pounding cock, making the sounds between us slick and sloppy.
We’re like two feral creatures, clinging to each other, kissing and biting and saying the other’s name as our bodies do their best to fuse themselves together.
But in the end, we separate. He rolls to his side, keeping his cock and his shadows buried deep as he pulls me with him. I lie there in his arms, marveling at how still he is. Then I remember that wraiths don’t need air.
“Can we really be mates?” I murmur. “Baz said it’s not possible for a wraith.”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s true, I’ve never heard of such a thing before.” Shifting his shoulder, he lowers his face to hold my gaze. “Do you want to be my mate, Birdie Rhodes? Intentionality counts for a lot in magic. Maybe our intentions will be enough to make it so.”
This is crazy. I hardly know this creature. But I settle against him, his cock and shadows still lodged deep inside me. “I do,” I murmur. “Dáinn, I want to be yours.” Hesitating, I lean away.
“What is it?”
“It’s just . . .” I blink back my sudden and surprising tears. This is a lot for a sad, loner Capricorn to admit. “I think I may want to be Jasper’s too. But is that—I mean, can that be possible? Can a human claim two mates?”
Sighing, he rolls with me, rocking himself back atop my hips. Lowering his face, he breathes me in again, kissing the curve of my neck. “I was hoping you’d say that. Whatever this is between us, our witch is part of it too. I need you to take care of him for me . . . when I’m gone.”
I stiffen. “Don’t. If she calls for you, I’ll just call you back. You’re mine, Dáinn—”
“No.” He pushes himself back, slipping his cock and his shadows free from me.
I wince at the feeling of so much seed leaking out between my legs. It pools between my thighs, and I have to fight the chaotic urge to reach down and plug my pussy with my fingers. I don’t want any part of him to slip away.
He sits back on his knees, gazing down at me. His expression is stern. “Do not call for me. I will come when I can. My every free moment is yours now. Do you understand? If you call for me and I cannot come, I will only panic. I must first learn of her plot.”
“Her plot?”
He nods. “Ludmilla always has another plot.”
I sit up, taking his hands in mine. “You stay alive, do you hear me? You have to come back to me.”
He nods, squeezing my hands. “I will. Birdie, I—” He gasps, his chest and shoulders going tight. His eyes swirl from whiskey brown to smoky black.
“Dáinn?”
“She’s calling for me,” he says in that low, rasping voice.
Tears sting my eyes as I cling to his left hand. Turning it, I look down at the lapis lazuli stone of his ring. “Please, just stay. Fight it.”
“I can’t.” Slipping his hand from my grip, he jerks the ring off his finger.
All at once, the wraith floats before me—hooded, and robed, and swarmed in angry black shadows.
This is the creature from the alley who brought Jasper to his knees.
This is the monster that ripped Enzo Barsotti in half. He is formidable. He is timeless.
He is Death.
And he’s somehow now mine. He holds the signet ring out to me. “Take it,” he rasps. “Give it to Jasper. He might need it.”
Tears falling, I take the ring.
He cups my face with a skeletal hand. “Stay safe, my Birdie. Get to the ferry.”
I rise up on my knees, reaching for him. “No! Dáinn—don’t go—”
But in a swirl of shadows, he disappears.
“Dáinn!”