Chapter 20 #2
Now, I think he may be just as trapped as I am. They both are.
The more you know about us, the less you’ll want to be ours.
That’s what he told me, but I think the opposite may be true. The more I know, the more I want them.
Reaper’s fingers weave into the hair at the nape of my neck, and he cups the base of my head. He picks up a grape, but I’m so busy staring at him, seeing him, that it doesn’t register as he presses it against my lips.
When I don’t open my mouth, Reaper’s brow moves under his mask like he’s frowning.
“Tell me,” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes. “Tell you what?”
“Who you are.”
“Nothing good,” he says. “I’m death. Born of darkness and vile deeds.”
My chest twinges. He doesn’t feel like death. He no longer feels scary, and now that I have seen, have felt that possessive heat, I know in my gut Cora was right. They aren’t bad. I don’t think they ever were.
“Who told you that?”
“No one, Kitten,” he says. “I was born to be exactly who I am.”
“I don’t believe that. I think someone put that into your head.”
“If you think my father shaped me…” He trails off, the hand with the fruit dropping to his lap, eyes drifting to some memory I know I’ll never be privy to. “You’re not the only one born of tainted blood.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. Part of me wants to rip his mask off to see his expression.
He shakes his head. “Open.”
Frustration weaves a path up my spine. I grip his wrist and bring his hand to my mouth.
His focus clears and shifts to me. Those dark eyes I’ve come to like focused solely on me, glaze over as I open for him, leaning forward just enough to wrap my lips around his fingers, sucking them into my mouth as I take the grape.
Reaper’s eyes lock onto my lips. I let his fingers go and he rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.
He picks up another grape. I taste the tips of his fingers as I take it and his eyes darken.
He lets out a breath that reminds me of that night in my room.
Hungry. A little desperate. I relish in the effect I have over him.
How he’s letting me see it. Before it was anger and wild lust. Now it's different.
Controlled and charged with pure heat but lined with a delicate want.
I chew and swallow. He watches me, his fingers tightening on the nape of my neck.
When he doesn’t reach for another grape, I pick one up and pop it into my mouth and wait.
He grips the seat of my chair and drags me slightly closer, framing me between his large thighs.
The legs of the chair screech along the tile floor so loudly that my eyes fly to the soldiers.
They shift but don’t turn to look at us.
Reaper leans in close to my ear. He’s so much larger than me that when he dips his head, I feel swallowed up by his presence. His masked mouth brushes the shell of my ear. “You enjoy testing me, Kitten,” he breathes.
“And I think you like being tested.” I say.
“Dare to risk it again?” he asks. “You may very well end up over my knee.”
I can’t help but smirk.
He swipes my grin away with his thumb. “Such a brat. I should tie you up and spank your little pussy until it’s red and swollen.”
“I think you’d like that too much.”
“So would you,” he says, then makes a light rumbling sound in his throat. “Though I admit hearing you beg makes my cock hard.”
I place my hand on my chest. “Me? I never beg.”
He chuckles. “Little liar,” he whispers. He’s so close, his breath warms my skin even through the mask. “Now open for me.”
My lips part, and he makes a disapproving humming sound.
“No, no, Kitten,” he breathes. “Open those thighs for me.”
Our gazes collide. My heart skips. I glance at the soldiers, but he grips my chin and forces me to look at him.
“Eyes on me,” Reaper says. His hand drops as his other tightens on the back of my neck.
It slips between my legs, and he eases my thighs apart.
My heart thumps erratically, and my pussy throbs.
I keep my eyes locked with his as he brushes the tips of his fingers over me, caressing between my thighs through the fabric of my leggings.
“If I slip my hand inside your panties, will I find you wet?”
I lick my lips, my breathing unsteady. My eyes move to the men’s backs, facing us. They are far enough away that they more than likely can’t hear us whispering, but they could turn around any second. Even though I’m hidden under the table, they would know.
Reaper makes another sound, so I focus back on his dark eyes. He’s so close, even in the dim kitchen I can make out the near-midnight color, the slight creases in the corners.
“What did I say?” he says as his fingers trail up from between my legs, to just under my belly button.
“There’s cameras,” I whisper.
“That only we have access to.” He squeezes my neck. “Now, what did I say?”
“Eyes on you,” I whisper.
One finger, then another, slips under the waistband of my pants and dips beneath my underwear. My breath catches as he moves lower.
“Keep eating.” He nods toward the tray.
With a shaky hand, I grab a grape.
“Open.”
I part my legs wider and open my mouth.
“Bite into it slowly.”
I do as instructed. My teeth cut into the flesh of the fruit as his finger brushes my clit.
“What do you taste?” he asks, his hungry gaze holding mine. That one finger brushes over me again, and I squirm as it dips, gathering wetness. “Tell me, Kitten.”
“Sweetness,” I breathe, my lashes fluttering as he moves in small, light circles. “And something a little tart.”
“That is what you taste like.” He slides a single finger into me. My breath heaves from my lungs. His gaze turns molten. “Sweet. Tart. Absolutely divine.”
Reaper adds a finger and drives them in hard.
My eyes close and my head falls back, tilting my hips to meet his hand, starved for him.
It’s only been a few days since he’s touched me, and I’m already desperate.
That night in my room, he gave me so much, took so much of me when he left, that this hungry, yet soft touch from him feels like he’s giving it back.
His grip tightens on my neck as he drives his fingers in faster, rocking his large palm into my clit each time he drives in.
“Look at me,” he whispers, driving in harder. I turn my head to meet his gaze and grip the table with one hand, my other flying out to grasp his thigh. “I want your eyes on me when you come.”
I rock into his touch, trying to get him deeper. My hand slides almost absentmindedly up his thigh. When I near his crotch, I hesitate, waiting for him to stop me, and when he doesn’t, I glide my hand over the huge bulge in his pants, my body loosening even more.
His eyes seem to lose focus for a second as I grip him, sliding my hand over his hardness, my arousal heightening at the realization he’s letting me.
Reaper’s shoulders loosen, and he lets out a low, grating sound.
A small whimper slips out of me seeing his reaction to my touch, and I bite my lip, trying to keep another from slipping out.
“Quiet. They’ll hear you. They’ll know my fingers are deep inside you,” he rasps, the idea that they could turn around at any moment bringing me higher. “No whimpering. Hush, Kitten. Don’t make a sound.”
My hips rock, legs widening, allowing him better access. His fingers hook, hitting that place that makes my toes curl and I let out a slightly strangled sound.
“Shh,” he whispers, but it’s just a shaky breath. “Come for me, Delilah.”
The second the command rumbles from him, I fall over without a sound. Teeth clenched, my head falling forward, my eyes fall closed as it washes over me. It’s a delicate release, almost as fragile as my name sounded leaving his lips.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, fingers slowing, and he grips my chin, forcing my eyes on him. “I love watching you break.”
Onyx gaze locked on mine, he pulls his hand free and brings it to his face, my release coating his fingers.
Hooking the bottom of his mask with his thumb, he raises it just enough to expose his mouth.
Those full lips and two scars come into view, and he twists his wrist, slipping his fingers into his mouth, sliding his tongue between them to lick them clean.
When he’s done, he leans in, and my heart jackhammers.
It nearly explodes as his tongue traces my bottom lip and slips inside.
It’s not so much a kiss as a flickering of his hot tongue over mine, like he’s letting me sample how I taste.
Sweet and tart, mixed with faint spicy darkness.
My grip on his cock tightens, and he hisses into my mouth, his hand enclosing over mine, and backs away.
“Don’t tempt me, Delilah,” he grates. “I’ll take you right here on this table.”
My pussy clenches as my eyes dart to the soldiers outside the door.
Reaper clears his throat, and the chair screams across the tile floor as he stands, adjusting himself. “You can finish this in your room,” he says. He snaps his fingers, and the two men turn our way. “Escort her to her room. I’m done with her for now.”