Death's Finest Hour

Chapter Forty-One

Damien didn't understand what all the stigma was about the calm before the storm. It was still calm, still nice, even if it did mean bad things were on the horizon.

For him, the calm before the storm was a woman's pretty thigh strung across his body, his hand firmly gripping said woman's perky arse. Faith's insane amount of hair was circling his neck like a scarf, up his nose and in his mouth. But he wouldn't move. Not for anything.

"Mmm, you're warm."

She snuggled deeper into him, shifting as she came to, holding him tighter.

"You're touchy," he whispered into her neck. "Sure the full moon's over?"

With their limbs entangled like this, her sudden flinching across the bed made the fall out so much messier.

"Full moon's—the fuck am I—what—I should be—"

In chains? Skin blistered from silver? Hanging?

Yeah, no. Damien liked her in his bed much better.

He liked her hair a lot more when it wasn't up his nose. Like this, it was perfect for wrapping his fingers through and tugging her arse back down to the bed.

When she squealed, he viced her to the bed with his body.

"You should have a little faith in me."

"I—"

"No puns. I told you, God of Death here. I can handle my needy, sex obsessed little werewitch once a month."

"You were serious about the all in thing."

"I'm always serious."

"Good, because I have a concern." She shuffled beneath him, softly grinding her core into his clothed cock. All that time spent saying no to sex last night and now this? Was this woman trying to kill him? "What are we going to do when we fuck?"

When. He liked that. Gods, he liked that.

"I'm running out of patience, Damien," she murmured, running her nails over his scalp. "I need to have you soon."

"What do you think we're going to do, Miss Lupine? I'll pin you to this bed and make you come undone for me."

"Yeah, but how are you gonna do that without a romance bone?"

His head whipped up, glacial eyes freezing her. "Sixty-five years in the past and you remember that?"

She grinned fucking deviously.

"Wouldn't you? It's going to be a big deal, isn't it?" She grabbed his cock. The same cock she'd already had in her mouth and hand. "Mmm, emphasis on the big."

"Come here," he commanded, tugging her up—yanking her into him. She hummed contentedly against his lips, thighs winding around his body.

"Fuck," she purred. "Oh Gods, we're screwed."

"We're nearly done with the list. How is that screwed?"

"Metaphorically, dipshit. I meant like—emotions wise 'cause I'm...really, really into you, and you're like totally obsessed with me."

He didn't deny it. Damien wasn't a liar.

"Why's that bad?"

"The prophecy is in motion."

"I've stopped caring."

"But you like watching."

"I still get to watch you."