Chapter 84
LXXXIV.
DANTE & brYNN
Dante
Brynn stood naked in the center of the room, her back to him, and she was glowing.
Her shadows moved across her skin. But where his were black as void, hers were white. They traced the curve of her hip, wound around her thigh, cupped her breast, and squeezed before spiraling away. She gasped softly at her own touch, head falling back, and the sound went straight to his cock.
She'd been practicing while he was gone.
He gripped the doorframe, knuckles going white. Heat surged through him so fast it made him dizzy. She was magnificent. Transformed. No longer the fragile mortal he'd been so careful with. She was equal in every way.
And she was touching herself with her shadows while he watched.
"Brynn." Her name came out thick, warning and want tangled together.
She turned, meeting his gaze head-on. Fearless as ever. Her eyes had changed when she'd transformed, silver threading through the green, and right now they blazed with power and mischief.
"Where were you?" Her voice was light, casual, but her shadows tightened, framing her body. Drawing his eyes to her breasts, her waist, the dark curls between her thighs.
He stepped inside and shut the door. It took every ounce of control he had not to cross the room and take her against the wall.
"The other Death Lords." He forced the words out. "Caelum's shells are destroyed. The souls are home."
Her shadows writhed, one tendril sliding down her stomach, dipping between her legs. She let out a soft moan, and his cock throbbed.
"Gabriel's leading the Mourned realm now," he managed, watching her shadow stroke through her folds. "He was Caelum's second. Disappeared long ago. Locked away for trying to stop the harvesting."
She walked toward him. Her shadows reached out ahead of her, brushing across his chest through his shirt. The warmth surprised him. He'd expected cold, like his own, but hers burned with gentle heat.
"The courts are balanced again." His voice was strained now, barely functional, as her shadows slipped beneath his collar to stroke his throat. "Gabriel explained how Caelum hid. Using drained souls as camouflage."
She stopped inches from him. Close enough that he could smell her arousal, rich and intoxicating. Close enough to see the wetness glistening on her inner thighs.
"Is that all?" She looked up at him through her lashes.
"Yes."
Her shadows slid down his chest, his stomach, and cupped him through his pants. He hissed, hips jerking into the touch. His own shadows surged instinctively, black tendrils reaching for her, but she batted them away with a flick of white.
"Not yet," she purred.
His jaw clenched. "Brynn—"
"Take off your clothes."
Arousal surged through him. The thief giving orders to the Reaper. She'd come back as something new, and now she wanted him on his knees.
He should resist. Should remind her who ruled this realm. Who'd made her scream his name so many times she'd lost count.
Instead, he reached for his shirt.
Her smile was wicked and triumphant. She stepped back to watch as he pulled the fabric off and dropped it to the floor.
"Slower," she commanded.
He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and paused. Held her gaze as he pushed down, inch by torturous inch. The fabric dragged over his hips, his thighs, and his cock sprang free. Hard. Aching. Already leaking at the tip.
Her eyes dropped to his length, and her tongue swept across her lower lip.
"On the bed."
He moved toward the mattress, but her shadows got there first. White tendrils pressed against his chest. They didn't just push. They guided. Owned. Demanded.
They drove him back until his legs hit the bed, and he let himself fall onto the sheets.
Her shadows followed. They slithered up his arms, slow and possessive, and wound around his wrists. Pulled them above his head. Bound him to the headboard with tendrils of pure white light.
He flexed, testing the restraint.
They held.
His shadows surged, ready to tear through the bindings, but he forced them back. Forced himself to submit. To give her this.
The look on her face was worth it. Pure power. Pure satisfaction.
"I knew you could behave," she murmured, climbing onto the bed between his spread thighs.
Brynn
He was beautiful like this.
The most powerful being in the death realm, bound and helpless beneath her. His muscles strained against her shadows, his chest heaving, his cock jutting up thick and flushed and dripping.
She traced her palms up his thighs, nails dragging, leaving red trails on his pale skin. He shivered at the sting, hips lifting slightly.
"Brynn—"
She leaned down and pressed her lips to his inner thigh. Felt the muscle jump beneath her mouth. Trailed higher, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin, until her breath ghosted over his cock.
He groaned. "Please—"
She pulled back.
"Not yet." Her hand closed around his length, grip firm and sure. She dragged upward, agonizingly slow, watching his face contort. "I'm going to take my time with you."
Her palm smeared through the slick gathering at his tip, spreading it down his shaft until he glistened. He was so hard he throbbed against her fingers. So desperate, his hips tried to thrust into her grip.
She lowered her head and traced the slit with her tongue, gathering every drop.
The taste of him flooded her mouth. She circled the crown with the flat of her tongue, pressing into the sensitive spot just beneath the head, and his whole body shuddered.
"Fuck." His voice was wrecked. "Your mouth. Please. I need—"
She swallowed him down in one smooth slide, taking all of it.
Her lips stretched wide around his girth as she sank until her nose pressed against his pelvis, his cock lodged in her throat, and she held there.
Swallowing around him. Letting him feel the tight squeeze of her throat working his length.
His curse was guttural. Animal.
She pulled back with aching slowness, suction so hard her cheeks caved, tongue dragging the sensitive underside. Then plunged down again.
She found a punishing rhythm. Deep and relentless. Her mouth fucking him while her hand twisted around the base, squeezing in counterpoint. Saliva welled up, ran down his shaft in rivulets, and made everything slippery.
But she wasn't alone anymore.
Her shadows responded to her desire. White tendrils slid up his thighs, warm and tingling.
One wrapped around the root of his cock, pulsing in rhythm with her mouth.
Another cupped his balls, rolling them with steady pressure.
A third traced up his stomach, his chest, found his nipple, and pinched hard enough to make him cry out.
He bucked beneath her. Overwhelmed from every direction.
"Brynn—fuck—too much—"
She moaned around him, letting him feel the vibration travel down his length, and pulled off just as his balls drew up tight.
"Not yet," she breathed against his twitching cock.
His groan was desperate. His shaft jerked against her lips, angry and denied, precum dripping off the tip.
She licked it away. Sucked just the head back into her mouth, tongue swirling, then released him again.
Edged him. Again. And again. Bringing him to the cliff with her mouth and her shadows, then yanking him back. Until sweat sheened his chest. Until his muscles trembled with the effort of not coming. Until words stopped working and he could only make sounds—broken, pleading, inhuman sounds.
"Please—Brynn—I can't—I need to come—please—"
The Reaper. The most feared death lord in existence. Begging for her mouth.
She released him with one final slow lick from root to tip and climbed up his body.
Dante
She straddled his hips, her soaked cunt pressing against his stomach.
He could feel how wet she was. Her arousal smeared across his skin as she settled her weight on him. The heat of her core hovered just above his aching cock.
She reached between them and gripped his shaft. Angled him to slide through her folds.
The sensation nearly broke him.
She rocked her hips, dragging her slick slit along his length, coating him with her arousal. The head of his cock caught on her clit with every pass, making her gasp. Making him throb.
"Look at you," she breathed, grinding down. "The Reaper. Bound and desperate." She leaned forward, her tits swaying inches from his face. "Begging for my pussy.”
"Brynn—" He couldn't form words. Could barely think. All he knew was the wet heat sliding against him, the need burning through his veins.
She positioned him at her entrance. The swollen head pressed against her opening, so hot, so wet.
Then she rocked away.
He groaned, hips surging up, but her weight and her shadows held him down.
"Say please." Her voice was smooth and commanding.
"I'm not—" His pride fought his need. The Reaper didn't beg. He was the apex predator. He was—
She sank down an inch. Just enough that his head breached her entrance. Her cunt gripped him like a fist, tight and scorching, and his vision went white.
Then she lifted off.
"Say it."
Something inside him snapped.
"Please." The word tore out of him. "Please, Brynn. I need you. Need your cunt. Need to feel you around my cock. Please let me inside you. I'll do anything. Please."
Her smile was pure triumph.
She sank down in one smooth motion, taking him to the hilt.
Brynn
The stretch was exquisite.
He filled her completely. Thick and hard, splitting her open, hitting so deep she felt him in her chest. For a moment, she just sat there, fully seated, savoring the fullness. The way her cunt clenched around him. The way he pulsed inside her.
"Move," he begged. "Please. Fucking move."
She planted her hands on his chest and lifted her hips slowly. Let him feel every inch of his cock dragging against her walls.
Then she sank back down.
His groan was broken.