“Not yet, my love, but they will be soon.”

I almost push away from his hold. What the hell is that supposed to mean? He keeps saying ‘soon’. I truly don’t believe he’s ever lied to me, though the non-answers are starting to feel so much worse. This is probably another thing that he wants me to do for myself, just as he has been coaxing me to voice my needs and wants.

Is it because this is basically a dream? Or is he just hiding from me? Or is he as insecure as I am?

I try escaping his hold on my wrist, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, my free hand travels up his stomach and on top of where his heart should be. Except nothing beats beneath my hand.

“Letum.” His name feels so good wrapped around my tongue. Does he think so too? “I don’t care what you look like. If you’re scarred or truly faceless.”

He hums, sending ripples up my arms and to my heavily beating heart. “And what is it that you care about, my dark love?”

You.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it, but I refuse to let the one syllable out. Not when he’s still hiding so much from me. So I change the topic.

“What happens to souls when they die?”

I think I feel him smile. “I walk them to the gates of the afterlife, and what happens after is the soul’s choosing.” He nips my finger. “If they believe in heaven and hell, then that is the path the soul will follow. If they believe in nothingness, then eternal slumber awaits. If they believe in reincarnation then you will find them again on this earth, in this lifetime, or the next.”

What do I believe? If I believe that I will walk the afterlife beside Death, is that what will happen?

What did my parents believe? They weren’t overtly religious, though they didn’t dispel the idea of god with a capital ‘G’ or otherwise. Dahlia once said that she would be reincarnated into a rich person’s handbag dog, but I don’t know how much truth is in that.

As if reading my thoughts, he says, “I do not know where the souls of your family are, my love.”

“Oh,” I mutter and drop my attention back to my hands. I frown. “Why do you leave those symbols on me?”

He lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around me to pull me to him, where we cuddle like real lovers. Out of pure instinct, I burrow my head against his chest and slide my hands beneath his cloak to roam his back as if it were muscle memory.

His scent washes over me and with it the feeling of peace. In my life, I’ve never felt so calm and content. I could stay like this for eternity and never long to see the light of day. How could someone I know so little about make me want to give him everything short of the moon and the stars?

“So when you wake up, you remember me,” he replies.

I suck in a sharp breath and debate whether to change the topic again so I don’t need to admit the truth. After a moment of hesitation, I say, “I’ve never forgotten about you.”

“And you never will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

His fingers trail love notes along my back. “I have waited a lifetime for you, my Lilith. I am not letting you go.”

My hands move on their own accord, descending down his back to the top of his pants. I crook a finger into the band and follow the path to the front of him. His length hardens and pushes into my stomach as he takes a staggering breath.

My arousal pools low in my stomach knowing I have such a profound effect on him, just like he does on me.

I pinch the strings of his breeches, a second away from tugging it when he stops my movements once more. “Not tonight, my love. We will have all of eternity to explore each other’s bodies. Tonight, you need to be held.”

“Please,” I beg.

He tenses but doesn’t let go. The silence makes me wild with need. I need his hard length to sit heavy in my hands or hit the back of my throat until I see stars. I need to be filled by him so thoroughly that there will be no room in my mind for anything other than him. I need to feel alive. He doesn’t even need to let go of me. There doesn’t need to be a breath of space between us for him to bury himself in me.

What would Dahlia say if she knew that I’m begging Death himself to fuck me hours after he took Evan’s soul? Regardless of what she might think, I can’t bring myself to care. Nothing else matters but Letum and I.

“Please,” I whimper.

A warning growl thunders low in his throat. “Fuck, Lilith. You don’t understand, do you?”

Liquid fire douses my skin and I writhe beneath him, my arousal hot in the air and the space between us is heavy with our aching needs. “What?” I gasp.

If he knew the state of what is happening between my legs, I’m sure there would be no more talking going on between us. This is one of the few chances I have to get to know him, and all I want is to feel him inside of me. What does that say of me?

He slams his lips to mine and devours me in an earth shattering kiss. Still, his hands stay wrapped around my waist. “You command me. Not just my heart—all of me.”

I drag my teeth down his lip before he gets the chance to break the kiss. “Please, Letum. I just want to feel.”

Before I can blink, his weight is on top of me and his fingers disappear down to my aching core. “Fuck,” he snarls, pushing his fingers through my heat. “You’re so wet for me, my love.”

I watch with bated breath as he pulls away from my center and brings his hand into the space between us. Light glistens off his wet fingers and he grumbles in approval as he tastes me once again. “Yes,” he says, low and heated. “You are my favorite thing to eat.”

Oh god.

“Don’t stop,” I beg.

He devours me in another kiss, the taste of me still sweet on his tongue. Strong fingers delicately strum my clit like he already knows how to make me sing. He swallows my cry and balances himself on an elbow before gripping my throat possessively.

“My love,” he says breathlessly. “You’re fucking magnificent when you use your words. Do you know what happens when you’re good?”

I try to stop myself from closing my eyes and lose myself in the feeling as he circles my clit with expert precision and I almost forget how empty I feel without him inside me. “What—”

I gasp when his fingers curl inside of me, hitting the right spot instantly. “You get rewarded.”

Thick fingers pump in and out of me, not stretching me as much as he did last week, but no less euphoric. I arch my back to his touch as his hand squeezes around my throat, slowly stealing even more of my breath and quieting my moans. Would it be wrong to ask if his shadow can join?

Little by little, oxygen becomes a commodity rather than a necessity, burning my lungs with pleasurable heat.

“Do you want to come?”

I nod my head as much as his grip allows it, pushing my thighs further apart to take even more of him. My eyelids drift shut of their own accord as my body becomes as light as air.

“You know what you need to use.”

My words.

“I want to come.” The words are barely a whisper, but the gasp of a woman about to die in bliss.

His pumps become more brutal, hitting the spot that makes stars explode. “Then come alive for me.”

His thumb swirls the spot that is dying for friction. Every morsel of my being fractures and collapses as my orgasm tears through me. Air rushes into me like wildfire as I gasp hungrily for breath, attempting to ride out the climax when he doesn’t relent with his assault.

I scream and curse, begging him to stop as electricity sparks through my system like a livewire. Just when I think I can breathe again, he drops to his stomach between my thighs and laps up the mess that I made.

He pulls my clit between his teeth and plunges his fingers back inside of me.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” I chant as my body and mind fails to comprehend a single thing.