“Good girl.”
My knees almost buckle from the two words. I lean my whole weight against him just to feel him beneath my hands. I’m not sure who makes a move first, but our lips crash against each other and my hands develop a mind of their own, exploring his body, feeling the hard muscles of his back that are hidden under soft skin, wishing that he would just take the goddamn hood off.
Molten heat pools between my legs and I try to pull him even closer, not wanting an inch of space between us.
Jungkook hums in approval and returns the favor by kicking the velvet blanket away from our feet, stalking forward slowly and pushing me back until I hit the edge of the bed.
His movements become more urgent, kissing my neck like he’s waited a lifetime to do it. Despite the hunger in his movements and the hard length pressed against my thigh, his entire body is rigid like there’s a beast trapped in his skin, wanting to devour me.
Warm hands ride up my thigh and circle my waist as he devours my neck.
“He didn’t deserve you.” His voice is heavy with lust and burning with rage. The duality does something perverted to my insides, and I almost ask him to say it again until I realize exactly what came out of his mouth.
The words douse the fire, and sober me. He lifts off me because of the slightest pressure I placed on his chest. I just wish I could see his face so I can tell how he’s feeling.
“Why did you kill him?” I demand. “It can’t just be because I was dating him, I’m sure you would have killed him a long time ago if it were that.”
Instead of responding, he drops to his knees between my legs. My breath stutters and my legs widen on instinct. He plants a kiss on the inside of my thigh, and I almost forget the question that I asked.
“I did not kill him,” Jungkook corrects and places another kiss on the opposite thigh. “I do not kill. I take.” His large hands start massaging my thigh, tugging my core closer to the edge of the bed. “However, you are right, my dark love. He was not in my way. I could have taken you whenever I wanted.”
Blood rages in my ears from my pounding heart at his words and from his fingers that are slowly lifting the dress up my hips to reveal the wetness he caused. Death hums darkly and tears his attention away from his next meal and back to me.
“He laid a hand on you when he shouldn’t have. He spoke to you in ways that make me regret taking his soul so peacefully.” The lust is gone from his tone. I’ve never heard him sound so serious. “Given the option again, I would make him scream before I took his soul. The sound would be nothing compared to the noises you will make when I’m inside you.”
I squirm under his hands to try and hide the way my traitorous body reacts to such violent words.
Jungkook reaches for my neck to bring me down to his eye level. My eyes snap to his hands, drinking in the way the muscles in his forearm twitch with each movement. The smoke on his skin doesn't recoil like I thought it would, continuing to dance across his body. I was too distracted last time to pay attention to how the smoke reacts to me.
His fingers tighten around my throat as if he knows that I’ve been thinking about what they’d look like on me, and he wants to make my wish a reality.
“You’re still wearing my necklace.” His voice is laced with carnality and possession, and I can’t help but lean forward to increase the pressure. Jungkook rises just enough to pull my bottom lip between his teeth, and a needy whimper leaves me. “I’m going to mark your body and your soul.”
I hesitate. “Are you—Are going to take my soul?” Does he hear how hopeful I am? Will he finally accept my offering?
“I already have it.” There’s no uncertainty in his voice, and I’m not even sure how that might be the case. If there is some way beyond my mortal comprehension where he does, in fact, have my soul, that it’s possible for him to have taken it and left me alive; I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually does.
Despite the fear that he stirs in me, I have no qualms about letting him take my soul just for himself. Everything about it feels right, like every second of my life has led me to this moment, to him, to us.
“But I want to die.” For the first time since the accident, I am uncertain that it’s actually what I want. Because what I actually want is to be anywhere with the man that has kept me alive for the past year and a half.
He caresses my cheek. “Even death will not keep you from me, my night monster.”
“There’s nothing I can offer you.” I don’t know why I’m trying to convince him to stop liking me when I know that it would truly kill me if he did stop. He rises to his feet from the side of the bed, then occupies the space next to me and pulls me onto his lap as if I were weightless. “You are enough, Y/n.”
I drop my attention to my hand, picking the skin on the side of my nail. “You don’t know anything about me.”
His hand covers my own, stopping me from sabotaging myself further. “Oh, my love,” he mutters against my forehead before planting a tender kiss. “I know your hopes and your dreams better than I know myself. I have memorized how the left side of your lips twitches right before you smile. How your eyebrows pinch together and you chew the inside of your cheek while you think. Oh, my sad flower, the sound of your laugh is imprinted into my memory.” He starts running his hands through my hair. “I know that your last thought before you sleep is what you might find next to you when you wake up. You pretend to hate it, but you secretly like working at the cafe because you love being surrounded by life. The wounds you wear run deeper than your scars from that night. The guilt you harbor over being the one to live.”
I can feel him looking down on me, but I can’t bring myself to look up. He has been watching me for a year and a half, of course he knows.
“I know nothing about you.” He apparently knows so much about me but I know practically nothing about him.
He pulls me closer and tucks my head between his collar and jaw. “You know everything about me, my love. You just keep it locked away.”
“I don’t,” I object. “I don’t know your favorite season, what type of music you like, what time of day you prefer, what you actually look like, your hobby, your favorite thing to eat.” Does Death need to eat? Sleep? How does he have all this time to follow me around if he needs to collect souls— or whatever he does?
Jungkook’s arms disappear from me, and the chill from the absence of his touch strikes me to my core. He deposits me back on the edge of the bed. I’m about to stand to look at him, just so he knows that even though he has me on his hook, I’m still not just going to stay there, but he wraps his arms around my waist before I can and pulls me up the bed with him. He molds our bodies together as if we have done this a thousand times. He knows just how perfectly we fit together. His hard length presses against my ass, and it takes more strength than I care to admit not to grind my hips.
“Autumn. Classical. Right before the sun rises. You, and you.” My core tightens when he starts skimming the tips of his fingers across my stomach. A blush heats my cheeks. I should have guessed his favorite season would be autumn, after all it’s the time when life seeps away from nature. “You didn’t say what you look like.”
His chest vibrates against my back with his warm chuckle and he kisses the side of my neck. It could be my mind hearing what it wants, but he almost sounds proud of me for noticing. “I will answer any question that you ask. But that, you will need to discover for yourself.”
Taking it as an invitation, I unwind our tangled legs and force our bodies apart. Will his cheekbones be high or low or right in the middle? Is his jaw as sharp as his body, or will there be an almost boyish look to him?
Slowly, I reach for his hood, as if any sudden movements might scare him away. He brings my hand to his lips before I even touch the soft material, and grazes his lips along my knuckles and tsks. “You can see once you open your eyes.”
Seeds of frustration plant their roots and blossom. “They’re open,” I snap. I didn’t stand up for myself when Evan gas lit me, yet I’m inches away from biting the hand that has been keeping me above water.
“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.
“Jungkook.” 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. Harper 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 storm. 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 Harper say if she knew that I’m begging Death himself to fuck me hours after he took Beck’s soul? Regardless of what she might think, I can’t bring myself to care. Nothing else matters but Jungkook and I. “Please,” I whimper.
A warning growl thunders low in his throat. “Fuck, Y/n. 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, Jungkook. 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.
Oh god, he’s going to kill me if he doesn’t stop.
I buckle and try to reach beneath Jungkook’s hood to grab onto his hair, but he stops me in a death grip, holding me down as he licks me clean. The sounds of his approval and lust vibrate through my sensitive core, forcing another sky splitting scream.
He removes his fingers and settles his weight on top of me, rubbing the remnants of my desire along my lips.
“Taste what I taste,” he orders.
I’m too delirious to do anything but comply, flicking my tongue out and licking myself clean off his fingers. Then I notice a gold band around his finger, the same thickness and inscription as the one he’s given me, even wearing it on the same finger.
“You are mine, Y/n. You belong to me.”