Seventh Grave and No Body Page 71

“Laetitia sine poena non habet,” I said. “There is no pleasure without pain.” I released a steady stream of air as he lay beneath me. After a moment, I said softly, “Voluptas.”

He threw back his head again with a loud gasp, only this time I felt the purest, most ethereal form of pleasure I’d ever felt radiate out of him. He grabbed my leg as I knelt beside him, his other hand going to the bed, blindly grasping at the comforter as wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure coursed through him. I should have stopped it, I should have released him, but I was riding the wave as exquisitely as he was. Just as it pulsed inside him, it pulsed inside me, pooling between my legs, hardening my ni**les until I gasped at the tightness of my skin as it shrank around me.

I couldn’t tear my gaze off him. He was so beautiful, writhing in a combination of pain and pleasure like I had never felt before. The force I’d created urged my legs apart and pushed into my abdomen, growing and spreading like molten lava, scorching me from the inside out. I guided it deeper, and in an act of pure lust, I reached into his bottoms and wrapped my hand around his rock-hard cock. Blood rushed beneath my fingers, the power coursing through me more delicious than anything I’d ever tasted.

“Dutch,” he said, the agonizing ecstasy racing through his veins and swarming his nerve endings as painfully as it was mine, the sting as sweet as fruit off the vine.

But I wanted more. I ripped down his bottoms and swallowed every inch of him as he groaned and plunged his fingers into my hair. He tried to push me back, to slow my attack, but with one simple thought, I disabled him. Helpless, he threw his hands over his face as his cl**ax neared.

“Dutch, please,” he begged through gritted teeth, and I doubted he knew what he was begging for. An end to the pleasure or its indefinite continuation?

I tasted a droplet of salt on my tongue and knew he was close. Skimming my teeth along the underside of his cock, I silently ordered his release.

“Fuck,” he said, crying out as he exploded inside my mouth. He bucked against my hold, driving himself deeper. At that exact moment, my own orgasm surged up in one giant wave. It lanced straight to my core and burst in white hot light as I dug my nails into his flesh.

The sweet sting pulsed inside me for several fleeting moments before my heart slowed and the afterglow of ecstasy warmed me through to my marrow.

I fell against him, more sated than I’d ever been. And more powerful.

“How was that?” I asked, genuinely wanting his assessment of my performance.

His gaze spoke volumes. Mostly shock. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“Me neither,” I said, snuggling against his rib cage.

“Dutch,” he said, taking my chin in his hand and lifting my gaze to his again. “I’m serious. I never knew anything like that existed. I knew you would be powerful, but you completely disabled me with a thought. You took me out with the force of your mind. And you used time to your advantage. You used everything you had at your disposal to incapacitate your opponent. You’re a warrior. You really are the Val-Eeth.”

I leaned up onto an elbow. “What’s a Val-Eeth?”

After running one hand down his face in astonishment, he said, “Do you remember when I told you that you were different, special, even among your own kind? Your own species?”

“Yes. You said I was royalty.”

“No, you are so much more than that. You’re the Val-Eeth. Throughout time, since before the creation of Earth, even before the creation of your sun, there have been only twelve Val-Eeth. One is born into your world every few million years. You’re the thirteenth.”

“I’m the thirteenth?” I asked. “Like the prophecy you read about the thirteenth warrior.”

“I’m not sure. Prophecies are so open to interpretation, but —”

“I’m going to be my own undoing?” I asked. “Not Antonio Banderas?” That was disappointing, to say the least.

He took my chin into his hand again. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

“Not especially.”

He lay back, his brows furrowing in thought. “But why would they let you go to become the reaper? It’s almost —” He fought for the word he was looking for. “It’s almost beneath you. In fact, it’s very much beneath you. You’re destined to be their leader for millions of years. You’re destined to be a god. I don’t understand.”

“Unless they knew about the prophecies. Maybe they knew our daughter would be an absolute badass. She would have to be to take on your dad.”

“I’m dumbfounded at their sacrifice. To finally have another Val-Eeth born among them after who knows how many millions of years, and then to give her up to this dimension? This plane?”

“I’m glad they did, either way.”

He shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t have.” He leveed a heated gaze on me. “They would never have sent you. Never. You must have volunteered. You must have insisted. You hadn’t ascended to the throne yet, but pretty much anything you would have said would be law. It must’ve been you.”

“Cool. So this is like when I volunteered for the Peace Corps. It’s like a temporary venture to better myself and to aid other people in their time of need.”

A dimple appeared beside his mouth. “Exactly.” He said it, but not without adding a healthy dose of sarcasm.

“Okay, so getting back to what I can do, clearly I have power over you while you are flesh and blood, but what about something that is incorporeal, like a hellhound?”

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