“You did it,” I breathe out.
“Mmm,” he murmurs and flings himself on top of me.
His cock grinds into me, hard and ready to wreck.
“Hey!” I snap when he leverages himself over me and undoes his pants. “What is this?”
He grips my wrist as Dastian snickers next to us and places my hand around his cock. It’s straining, veiny and bulging. Voren thrusts his hips forward once and then dumps his cum all over my hand and wrist. He is panting hard, his eyes white as he shudders through an orgasm that feeding from the ghost woman clearly kickstarted in him.
“Fancy her, do you?” I growl, trying to pull my hand away.
He clamps down harder, not ready for me to release him, his gaze boring into mine with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable. “Stop fighting us,” he rasps, his free hand coming up to squeeze my neck. “Your bad attitude is attracting the worst of the worst, slayer.”
“Mybad attitude?” I snarl, and he squeezes tighter, making me gag.
He finally releases my wrist, and I bring my hand up to wipe his cum over his muscular chest, still bare after I ripped his shirt last night.
“Marking your territory, slayer?” he growls softly.
“Don’t ever use me to make yourself feel better, ever again!” I hiss, and then my cheeks flush as I realise that I am the world’s biggest hypocrite.
He knows it as well and smirks at me. “Call us even, slayer,” he says and releases my throat before he rolls off me, his cock still hard, cum smeared on his chest, as Dastian looks on like this is just an ordinary day.
“Well, this is an interesting dynamic,” he murmurs,eyes narrowed as he climbs onto the bed, lying down across the foot.
“Did that ghost really turn you on?” I ask, turning my head to stare at Voren.
“Not her. Her anger, her need for revenge, her absolute, unbridled fury. It feeds the void, Nyssa. And the void is a hungry beast. It’s a rush.”
“It’s sick,” I say and stand up, glad the sun is rising. It makes this place feel less creepy. “I need that shower.”
“You can’t go down to the village,” Dastian says. “Remember?”
“I remember you saying there was no plumbing here.”
“I said there was a bucket and a well out back.”
“Fuck you. It’s freezing, and I don’t live like I’m in the dark ages. If I don’t get hot water in the next ten minutes, I’m going to start testing exactly how volatile I am against these walls.”
Dastian sighs, sliding off the bed with a fluidity that is entirely unfair for this hour of the morning. “You mortals and your creature comforts. It’s a wonder you survived evolution.”
“We invented plumbing. You lot were too busy smiting people to bother with sanitation.”
He grins, his eyes flashing with that molten gold mischief. “Touché.” He raises a hand, snapping his fingers.
One second, we are standing in the haunted guest room, and the next, we are outside at the far end of the back garden, where a small lake sits serenely against the backdrop of the countryside. “No,” I say, crossing my arms.
“The house is too old for plumbing. This is the best we’ve got.” He turns towards the water, stripping off the mortal way and showing me his hot god-bod, that isn’t as bulky as Voren or Dreven, but no less muscular. His barearse is pretty cute, and the tattoos down his back are interesting.
He doesn’t hesitate. With a whoop that echoes off the surrounding hills, he launches himself into the grey water. The splash sends a spray of icy droplets onto my boots, and I shudder, wrapping my arms tighter around myself.
He surfaces, shaking his hair like a wet dog. “It’s refreshing! Come on, live a little.”
“It’s hypothermia waiting to happen. I’m not getting in there. My nipples could cut glass just standing on the bank.”
Dastian grins, a wicked, boyish curve of his lips. The water around him churns from a sudden, violent bubbling. Steam rises from the surface, curling into the morning mist. The grey, uninviting lake water turns a vibrant, tropical turquoise around him. The heat radiating from it hits my face, and I almost moan.
“Better?” he asks, looking entirely too smug.
