I think he’s about to say something big.

His lips part, but then he shakes his head, and the moment is gone.

Famine leans in and kisses me, and I feel some bittersweet mixture of relief and regret. He isn’t freaked out by my words, but he’s also not about to reassure me that I have nothing to worry about. He’s Famine, he crushes things for fun—humans and their simpering emotions most of all.

The horseman begins to move again, and I focus on that. His cock is still stretching me in the most pleasurable way.

I marvel at him, at this.

His gaze is fixed on me as he thrusts in and out, in and out. The two of us stare at each other with wonder. None of this was supposed to happen.

“I see you,” Famine says. He leans in and kisses one eyelid, then the other. “Only you.”

My breath shudders out of me, and then another stupid, rebellious little tear slips down the side of my face.

Gah, my eyes need to stop this whole crying business.

A moment later, the horseman wipes it away.

I give him a shaky smile, and Famine’s eyes catch on it.

“God have mercy, Ana, I told you no pretty human tricks,” he says, staring at my mouth, his voice hoarse.

Slowly, he resumes his thrusts. Each stroke is deep, yet somehow, he makes the movement seem gentle. It reminds me of the fact that he likes to prolong all sorts of things—hunger, death, and—apparently—sex.

My hands slide down his chest, over his pecs and abdomen. Beneath my touch, his muscles tighten.

Again he pauses.

“Please—if you have any care, woman, you’ll stop that now,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Going to make me come too soon.”

I flash him another smile. In response, his cock twitches inside of me.

My grip tightens on him.

He likes my smiles.

Famine reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit. “I’m going to have to even the score.”

I laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan as he strokes me in two places at once. His pace picks up as he watches me, drinking in my expression.

“I am convinced,” he says.

I can barely focus enough to say, “Convinced of what?”

“The perks of sex.”

I’m hardly paying attention to his words. Sensation builds and builds inside of me as he keeps teasing my clit. My fingernails scrape down his back.

“Famine …”

My lips part, my chest heaving as, all at once, my orgasm crashes through me. I cry out, pulling him in close as wave after wave of pleasure ripple through me.

Famine pistons into me harder and harder as his mossy eyes drink in my reaction. He’s still staring at me when, his thrusts deepen and he sucks in a sharp breath, like something has taken him by surprise. Then, with a groan, he’s coming hard and fast. He looks shocked as he stares down at me—shocked and enamored.

With a few final strokes, Famine extricates himself, rolling off of me. I acutely feel his absence, but only seconds later he pulls me onto him.

Then he begins to laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh. It shakes his whole body.

I pull away to take him in. My heart squeezes at the sight of Famine smiling, laughing.

I’ve never seen him this way. Carefree. Happy.

All because he got a little pussy.

I smile, tracing his lips with my finger. My heart is doing funny things; it feels both light and heavy.

“This is insanity,” he says against my finger. “I’m having a human experience, and for once, I like it. Shit, I more than like it.” As he speaks, he pulls me in close and kisses the side of my face.

Before I can respond, he rolls us so that I’m pinned beneath him once more.

His gaze searches mine. “This is … I want to be in you again. And I want another smile from you. Many of them. Your smiles make me feel more like my true self.”

My stomach tumbles at that. Like my true self. I understand that statement all too well. It’s been a long time since someone saw me as anything other than Ana the prostitute, but when Famine looks at me, I remember.

I run my fingers over his cheek, and that lighter-than-air feeling passes through me.

Between us, I feel him begin to harden once more. My eyebrows shoot up. I wasn’t expecting an encore any time soon.

“I truly hope you don’t have any plans to sleep tonight,” he says.

I lean up and give him a kiss. “I can postpone them.”

Famine grabs one of my legs, opening me up a bit, and with one strong thrust, he’s sheathed himself inside me once more.

Chapter 42

“Ana.”

I hear the voice as though from far away.

“Christ.” A hand is shaking my shoulder. “Ana!”

I force my eyes open, shaking off sleep.

The horseman is staring down at me, and he looks—

He looks frightened.

I begin to push myself up. “What is it?”

Famine’s eyes are all over my body. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” I glance down at my body, but as I do so, I feel a sharp pain in my neck.

A moment later, I see the blood.

It’s smeared everywhere. On me, on the sheets, and it looks like it’s stained most of my discarded dress. It’s even on the Reaper himself, the blood dried along his torso.

I’ve seen the horseman covered in blood plenty of times, but I’ve never seen him terrified because of it.

He tilts my face to the side.

“Jesus,” he curses again, taking in my wound. “Ana, you told me you were alright last night. I was—” He rubs a hand down his face. “I was inside you last night while you were hurt.”

I feel a flash of guilt. “It’s not—”

“Stop,” Famine says. “It is that bad. Ana, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I feel fine,” I say.

“I couldn’t wake you,” the horseman says. “You’re not fine.”

“I’m awake now,” I say defensively.

Awake and naked and covered in blood and grime. I suddenly feel like a naughty kid, sleeping with the horseman while wounded. Unfortunately, that’s how it worked at the bordello. Getting battered by a client didn’t mean any woman got to take the night off.

“You need a doctor,” he insists.

“A needle and thread will be just fine—well, a needle and thread and some strong liquor.” Not that I’m ready for more liquor. My stomach revolts at the thought.

Famine gives me a skeptical look. “You can’t be serious.”

Unfortunately, I am.

By midmorning I’ve washed myself clean and scrubbed out my dress as best I can. I wear the damp outfit in the saddle, my tits basically visible through the wet fabric.

Famine holds me close. I can practically feel him vibrating with anxiety. On the one hand, I’m moved by his reaction. On the other, all that we did last night has been forgotten in the midst of his worry.

We aren’t on the highway for more than fifteen minutes when we come across a small trading post.

The Reaper steers his horse towards it. Before he’s even dismounted, I hear a scuffling noise inside the store, followed by a scream that cuts off sharply.

I suck in a breath. That’s never, ever going to get easier to bear.