I haphazardly dried myself with a fur, then shucked on my chemise and turned toward the throne chamber. No need to bother with a shoulder pelt. Coldness was my constant companion—the faster I got used to it, the better I could resist Enosh’s divine gravity.

The chatter of my teeth echoed from the brittle bone as I crossed the bridge. Tremors ransacked my body and my chest convulsed, letting lone droplets of salty water run from my nostrils only to collect on my chin. Drowning was not elegant.

I hurried up the dais…

…and hit a wall of warmth.

“Who walks about my court?”

My muscles strung tight at the haughty lilt in Enosh’s tone. Ugh, my husband was home.

He slouched on his throne in battle armor, his black leather cuirass intricately tooled with flames roaring around bodies on spikes. Could he be any more dramatic? With his leg draped over one armrest, he looked positively bored.

Never a good omen.

“Mmm, my dead wife, here you stand, drowned, once again challenging everything that had been true to me for so long. For eons, not a single corpse ever ignored the innate reflex to breathe… until you.” He lowered his leg and let his heavy boot come down with a thud, then straightened his spine. “Oh, look how you shiver, your hair still wet, your skin damp.”

“Concerned that I might catch a cold?” I clasped the fang tighter, hoping he would not sense it and ask questions. “Why are you here? I thought you rode out.”

“Your husband has returned early… joy, oh joy.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he spread his arms out wide, as though presenting himself as a gift he knew I wanted to return. “So grateful were the mortals beyond the gate when I emerged, they fell to their feet, prayed, and brought me a virgin. A young… warm… virgin.” Whatever he saw in my eyes—a spark of green rage, most likely—put another smirk on his mouth. “But alas, I have a cold wife at home to return to.”

I didn’t like how my hackles rose or what this might say about the feelings I’d developed for him before my death—not to mention my mental state. “I’m humbled.”

“Not nearly enough. We shall rectify that.” A pat on his thigh. “Come, little one. Sit on your husband’s warm, warm lap so he may cure you of the cold.”

A shudder raked me over. “I’d rather drown myself some more.”

His lips twitched. “On my word, I shall be on my best behavior.”

My toes curled because his promise smelled decisively like shit. “If I wanted to listen to such dung, I’d head to the nearest tavern and drown myself in its latrine instead.”

“Sometimes it seems as though death has emboldened you even further.”

“Because I have nothing left to lose.”

“You would be surprised...” His jaws clenched and the depressions beneath his cheekbones filled with shadows. “Whatever have I done to earn your suspicion? Do you not trust my word?”

The fact that I trusted it was half the problem. “You coaxed me into the empty hope for your kiss, allowed me to press myself against you, and deliberately teased my mouth to search for yours… only to reject me.”

And he would do it again.

I was dead, not stupid.

He would hit me right where it hurt the most, dangling the bait of his warmth in front of me, snaring me with those lips which had once whispered the sweetest compliments. The perfect trap, innocently perched on the throne, carrying the disguise of patience with each slow pat-pat-pat against leather-clad thighs.

“Come now.” His command let my balance shift toward him. “Enough with your impressive display of obstinance while your bones ache to obey their master.”

Obey, they did.

Curse those bones, my legs carried me straight to him, but he would never command such obedience from my soul, and in extension, my mouth and whatever came out of it. At least for as long as he would allow me to keep it…

Enosh clasped my waist and pulled me onto his lap, chuckling at the way I moaned at the sudden heat beneath my buttocks. “Ah, my love, pout all you want, but the fact remains that not even the spring warms you better than I do.”

“True.” I let myself go limp against his chest, letting the fang disappear in a cranny between bone. “But the company is much better down there.”

“My wife is irritable again.” He pushed the cotton of my chemise down, exposing one breast to the chill. “Such insolence ought to be punished.”

Lowering his head to my nipple, he let his warm breath blow around the bud in a circle. His tongue followed, lapping it into a hard pebble before he suckled it between his hot lips.

I moaned in delight and arched my back, feeding him more. “Why are you so cruel?”

“I promised punishment.” Which he quickly initiated by letting his hand slip beneath my chemise, rearranging me on his lap until his finger gained access to circle my darkest hole. “Am I not a man of my word? Have my threats ever been idle?”

I gasped as the pad of his finger drummed against the puckered skin. “No.”

“No.” He dipped inside, only for his finger to retreat and continue to vibrate against the softening ring of muscle, making me seek it out with shifts of my hips. “Mmm, little one, I told you that you would learn to love this. And so, you have. What a pity that your enjoyment renders this quite useless as a punishment. Unless…”

Leaning deeper into his throne, he let his other hand reach around and grip my chin. He shifted me until the back of my head rested on his left shoulder. He hooked my legs over his, spreading me wide.

His exhale broke against the side of my temple, where the corner of his lips rested. “Who is Elric?”

Remembering his threat of what he would do if I ever mentioned the truth again, I only said, “Nobody.”

“That’s right, little one. Nobody. Because no mortal man could possibly touch you the way I do, knowing every fiber of your form by heart.” His other hand rearranged itself, a finger in each fold that framed my cunt, and a third that drummed my arse. “Your heart no longer beats, yet I can hear it in my memory, its crooked cadence. Listen...” A startling rhythm pounded to life inside my chest, sending a skin-prickling rush of blood through my veins. “Ba-boom-boom. Ba-boom-boom. Oh, how I loved listening to it while you slept.”

He brought his fingers closer together, pinning my clit between them. Then he rubbed them up and down, pulling the throbbing nub and its little hood along with it. At each downward motion, his finger dipped into my arse, sending little sparks into my heating flesh.

“You cannot imagine how much effort it takes me to give you this much sensation,” he crooned into my ear as he quickened his motions, rubbing me toward completion. “See, my love, your body no longer lubricates on its own. You can feel, yes, but your nerves are corroding more with each of your useless breaths, dulling your sensitivity. Yet here I am, pulling you against the warmth of my chest, rubbing your cunt toward your acme of pleasure. And what do you say to me for this, hmm?” When I only moaned and bucked against his touch, he pinched my clit harder, drummed his finger faster against my needy hole. “The correct answer would be, thank you, Master.”

The roots of my teeth ached with how I pressed them together as I pushed the words through their gaps. “Thank you, Master.”

“We shall practice this some more.” His hot breath clung to the fine wisps along my temple as his other hand kneaded my breast. “So close, I can sense how your muscles tremor. Does your master make you feel good?”

I hissed a dozen curses, called him twice as many things, but it all ended in a guttural, “Yes…”

His finger pushed deeper inside me, filling the tight channel with warm pressure as his knuckles shifted around my clit. “And because I make you feel so good, you say…?”

I rocked my pelvis to follow the rhythm of his touch, chasing my release. Oh, so close! “Thank you, Master.”