His Reaper (Unexpectedly Twisted #4)

Chapter 1

BANE

“Why do you think he’s ghosted me? Hm?” I ask the man tied to the chair. He’s lost part of his scalp and one of his eyes, but I left his ears. I know he can hear me. I left them attached for that very purpose.

I need someone to really listen.

“Teddy says Georgiy was leading me on. He got what he wanted from me and then took off. But hey, I didn’t give him anything.

Not really. And not for lack of trying. I tried to give it all to Georgiy.

” I sigh and pick up my phone, staring down at the messages that are just sitting there, unanswered.

It’s been weeks and nothing, no response.

I hold it up to the man in the chair, and when he doesn’t answer, I wrench his head back, blood oozing from his scalp.

“Take a good look and give me your opinion.”

The man moans. Very unhelpful indeed.

“Come on, Carl. I know you have an opinion. Telling me the truth won’t make you any less dead.”

When he doesn’t answer me, I let his head flop down, and my eyes move to stare at my bloodied hands.

Hm. I do like that color. I want it on another car.

One I can use to transport victims to and from the property. I have one already, but I want two—one that’s a little sturdier, with more trunk space. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.

My dreams can come true.

One of them, at least.

I sigh and then glance back down at my phone.

“I should just…I shouldn’t unblock him, right? Teddy would be so disappointed in me if I did that.”

The man moans in pain, and I peer over at him.

“You’re very unhelpful, Carl. I mean, why keep you alive if you’re just going to be such a crybaby?”

I pick up an electric saw and turn it on, the whirl of the machine making my blood zing with excitement. I’m over this guy. He’s already given my boss, Anthony Costello, the info he needed. And since he hasn’t helped me at all with my predicament, I think it’s time to just be done with it.

“Time to meet your maker, you cunt.”

I let out a loud laugh as the blade meets flesh and bone.

And when the top half of the man falls to the floor, the bottom half still tied to the chair, I turn the saw off and step back, deciding which parts of him to keep and which to dissolve. I have quite the collection. I love adding to it.

It’s a great hobby.

With a flick of my fingers, I swipe the excess blood from my skin, watching as it pools and disappears down the drain in the floor.

“Well, now I have to shower,” I murmur as I take a step back. “Good thing I got that new soap. Really smells nice…”

As I say this, something stings the skin of my neck, and the room suddenly starts to spin.

My body sags to the right slightly, and strong arms come around me to hold me up.

“Wh—” I begin, but my mouth is slack, my tongue two sizes too big. This is not good, I think as I start to fade into the blackness.

And when I do, I hear my name. A whisper.

In a Russian accent.

My eyelids peel back slowly as my body jolts back and forth in a small space. I can hear the crunch of tires and smell exhaust fumes. My wrists wrench against the bindings, and I sigh. He tied me up.

Goodie.

Before everything went dark, I recognized that accent, that voice. All growly and possessive, and mostly annoyed that he wants my ass that badly.

He can’t help it. My ass is pretty amazing.

Georgiy.

He came for me, all the way from the other side of the country to punish me. He does actually care. I knew he did. Knew he wouldn’t just ghost me like that. I have no idea what he has planned, or what finally broke him, but I’m here for it.

I’m literally here for it—tied up, which is my kryptonite. Tie me up anywhere, anytime, and my dick will be eager for a nice orgasm. It’s getting hard now, actually.

Ready to play.

Ready to see what Georgiy has in store for me.

Suddenly, the car stops, and I hear the ignition cut off. My heart rate accelerates and my dick hardens.

Yes. Gimme.

I hear footsteps, and then the trunk pops open. I blink up through the sunlight at Georgiy, who is staring down at me. He’s as put-together as always in a trim black suit, his hair perfectly coifed, his skin flawlessly moisturized.

He’s a specimen. I’d wear him if I could, but then he’d be dead, so I won’t do that. Georgiy can live. I lick my lips and open my mouth to say something, but he reaches toward me and duct tapes it shut.

“No need to speak, Bane of my existence.”

Rude, I think as he reaches his arms under me and picks me up, pulling me into his chest. I can’t help but inhale the scent of him. Ammonia and some kind of aftershave.

He smells even better when it’s all mixed with blood.

My nose nuzzles up against his neck, and I hear him grunt as he walks me somewhere. From what I can make out, we’re in the middle of a large forest up in the mountains, a small trailer sitting in the distance. Seems he has plans for me.

I wonder what they could be.

I can’t fucking wait to find out.

He swings the trailer door open, and the scent of musty furniture and a long-closed space wafts over me.

He carries me inside and dumps me on the queen-size mattress in the back.

I can’t help but arch my ass up toward him, offering it up.

It does need a good spanking and fucking. But it goes ignored, much to my dismay.

“Put that down,” he murmurs, and I wiggle it just for fun. “Blyat. You never listen.”

I don’t. I have very selective hearing most days.

I hear him rustling with something, and then a moment later, I’m being jostled around the mattress. My face is smashed into the sheets by his large hand, and I feel my clothes being peeled from my body. No, not peeled. Sliced. He’s slicing them with his scalpel.

Oh, oh yes. Please.

It’s extremely sharp. Just the perfect tool, so versatile.

“You won’t need these,” he murmurs.

He’s right. I won’t. I’m very much okay with being naked around him. It seems to be the state he usually keeps me in when he’s frustrated with me.

When I’m finally laid bare, I look at him and see that his hair is slightly mussed. Love it when he looks like that, all disheveled and angry.

He looks furious right now.

Good. Maybe he’ll take it out on my ass. It could use a good pounding.

I need a little pain to make my day better.

His eyes flicker, something sadistic moving through those dark depths, and I groan in approval. He’s so ungodly hot. Like a demon, sent from Hell to fuck me up.

His hand slips into his suit pocket and pulls out a small, metal cock cage. I wiggle slightly, wanting whatever he’s going to give me.

“I’d call this your punishment, but I know you will enjoy it far too much,” he murmurs, turning me over onto my back and attaching it to my semi-hard cock. It aches as he secures it, and then he slaps it roughly, making my back bow in pleasure-pain. Yes. Yes. More. I whimper for more.

But he doesn’t give it to me. Instead, he flips me back over, pulling my caged cock between my legs so he can see it, along with my ass on display. Oh, I know this. He pretends to hate it, but he wants to watch me come.

A rope manifests in my peripheral vision, and without another word, my arms are readjusted and wrenched up and over my head and secured to some kind of contraption to keep me immobile.

He does the same to my legs, my body in an X formation, my face turned slightly as I try to inhale deeply through my nose.

It’s kinda hard, if I’m honest, but I’m a fighter. I have been since I can remember.

I know I should probably be afraid, but this is just turning me on. Naked, tied to a bed with Georgiy behind me, planning the devil only knows what. I’m fucking ready.

I feel cool fingers touch my ass, massaging my cheeks before spreading them open and baring my hole—the one he’s used several toys on. Many times.

“You’ve been letting other men fuck this,” he says lowly, and it’s a statement, not a question, like he already knows.

I’m nearly vibrating with excitement as I nod my head.

Of course I’ve let myself be used by others.

He’s been ignoring me for weeks, and I refuse to remain monogamous for a man who won’t even text me back. I have standards.

I wish I could speak, but the duct tape is still secure on my lips. But then again, maybe I shouldn’t give it all away. I need to keep a few secrets of my own.

I have so many.

Even ones I’ve kept from myself.

His fingers tighten on me, painfully, his nails digging into my skin, and I let out an excited whine.

“Don’t you know you’re mine?” he hisses and then pulls away suddenly. “Seems you have forgotten. I will give you a reminder. One you won’t be able to forget.”

A bag unzips near my feet, and I feel something cool hit my skin, the scent of alcohol hitting my nose. He wipes down my ass cheeks carefully, the surgeon in him coming out to play. Always so clean, always so thorough. And then I hear it, the whirl of a machine.

The prick of pain hits me suddenly, and I let out a low moan, my cock twitching in its cage as the tattoo gun moves against my skin.

Oh. Oh yes, please. I feel my cock leaking as he works the needles with precision over my skin.

Whatever he’s drawing, I’m pretty sure it’s his mark—something to tell everyone that this ass is his.

I don’t mind. Not at all.

I’ve been wanting this kind of claiming. I’ve been asking for it. Just never thought I’d get it.

“You better not come,” he murmurs, tugging on the cock cage and making my eyes roll into the back of my head. I mean, I can’t promise anything. You’re super-hot and tattooing my ass.

I can’t help it.

He digs the gun in a little deeper, and I grunt, feeling my balls harden from the pain. Yes. I want more. Gimme more. He continues, torturing me slowly. One ass cheek done, and then he moves on to the other. He’s making whatever it is big, something no one can miss.