"So, if I want mine all over you, I suppose you'll get them?"
"That's a fuckin' dumb question. Do I belong to you?"
Her lashes swept down. Back up. Exasperation warred with pleasure. "Yes." That was decisive. "You belong to me, although half the time I want to kick you."
"Love that you put my prints on you, baby," he said softly. The weird lump in his throat and the burning behind his eyes were finally gone and he could speak without worrying he was going to blow it. "I've never had anyone give me a gift before and this one is the most . . ." He broke off because the lump and the burning were back. The pressure in his chest increased.
"I'm glad you like it," she whispered.
Her voice wrapped him up. Reaper could only take so much. He leaned over her, deliberately running his fingers over the curve of her breast. "Can't decide whether to tattoo my prints on the curve here, so when you wear a tank everyone can see them, or here." He ran his fingers under the soft mounds, stroking caresses over that soft skin. "Only I would see them."
"Do I get a vote?" Amusement lit her voice. Her eyes.
All that green shone at him in the early morning light. Erased images from the night before. Took him to a good place. "Nope. This is all mine." Lifting his leg, he caught her arms, rolled her over so she was on her belly and then trapped her again by lowering his leg over her thigh. She giggled. It was soft, but he heard it and he found himself smiling. So, this was what fun was. Teasing his woman. Having her give it right back to him.
He smacked her butt because he loved to see his handprint glowing on her pale skin. She turned her head to glare at him. "Ow. Stop that."
"You like it."
"I do not."
He slid his hand between her legs. "Wet. Slick. Hot as hell. Yeah, baby, you like it." He rubbed out the redness and then repeated the action, spreading more heat across her ass. Playing was fun. He hadn't been taught that. He hadn't been taught that a man and a woman could enjoy each other without the end result being blood and death.
She wiggled her butt at him. "Maybe I do, but only because you make everything sexy." She acted as if she was giving him a great concession.
He spread his hands over her cheeks, pressing his fingers into that firm muscle. "Prints might look nice here." He pressed harder so there was a faint indentation when he lifted his hand. It faded quickly. He bent, swirled his tongue and then bit down. She yelped and glared at him again. "Just checking. I thought maybe my bite mark, but it's not nearly the right thing."
"I think you're obsessing over my butt."
He was. He swatted her again. Studied his handprint. "I like my hand there. I'd have some fun watching Ink tatt your ass. I could swat you a few times, get you hot and bothered, fuck you and then let him ink you."
"Fuck me? In his shop?"
"Right there, baby. Bend you over that chair and take you. Looking at this very nice ass. Gives me all sorts of ideas." He ran his finger between her cheeks. "Like the idea of fuckin' your tits. Want to claim every part of you. Want to fuck your ass. And then there's the possibility of trying something else."
He dipped his fingers deep and then stroked the slickness between her cheeks. He pushed his cock in that warm crease, caught two fistfuls of her buttocks and pressed her cheeks together around him. He moved, sliding his cock through that warmth.
She lay still, her hands cradling her head, face turned to the side to watch him, those green eyes never leaving his face. She looked utterly relaxed, at peace. That struck him. He could use her body and she let him, liked it. Wanted whatever he did to her. He couldn't fuck her mouth, not yet, but he was determined he would find a way.
"Want you to swallow me down, babe. Want you bathing in my seed. Cover your body in me, so I can watch those long ropes trickle down."
"That can happen." Her voice was soft and amused.
He loved the idea of her covered completely in him, creamy rivers dripping off her. "I'll cover you, wait till it starts to drip off you and take pictures. Blow the best one up, or maybe all of them. Frame 'em. Put them up on the walls and when you're not around, I can jerk off looking at them."
She laughed. "You're so crazy. You getting yourself off now?"
He was pushing his cock between her cheeks, pressing tighter and tighter. His talk was getting him off. The idea of coating her in him. "Yeah, baby, I'm going to get off, so turn over." He backed off her, his heart beating hard again.
She rolled over, looking up at him. He wanted that mouth so much it hurt. "Put your hands above your head. Stretch them out high." Neither could make mistakes. His heart beat so hard he felt it in his cock. He had to be so careful, but even the fact that he was on dangerous ground excited him.
She touched her tongue to her bottom lip, and he groaned. His cock jerked hard and more drops leaked. Good. He needed that. He coated his fingers with more of her slick heat and then rubbed it all over his shaft. He straddled her, sat back down on her belly and pressed her breasts around his cock.
Her chest rose and fell. Her eyes never left his face as he began to fuck her breasts. It was hot watching his shaft sliding between those curves. Watching that broad head slide closer and closer to her mouth. His balls grew tight. Excitement coursed through him.
He was close. Just thinking about it, he was that close. "Open your mouth but keep your head still."
Her long lashes fluttered. Her lips slowly parted. She opened her mouth wide. Just the sight set him off. Fire rushed up his spine. Coiled in his belly. Roared through his groin. He let the first spurt fall across her face, but then he pulled away from her breasts and kept pumping, aiming for her mouth. Left his seed on her tongue. Triumph burst through him. He was in her mouth. In her mouth. He hadn't tried to strangle her, or slit her throat. The sight of his seed in her was so erotic the eruption kept coming, ropes of long white cream he wanted to feed to her.
"Swallow. Swallow me." He wanted to be inside of her. Deep. Where she could never get him out. Where she wouldn't care how fucked-up he was and she'd have to stay because her need was as great for him as his was for her.
He aimed the last few eruptions across her breasts. He loved looking at her covered in him, but it was her mouth, her throat, he couldn't take his eyes from. She didn't once look away. She did what he said, slowly swallowing him down. Her throat worked.
"Open your mouth." His heart was going crazy now.
She did. Very slowly. First her tongue slid around her lips as if to get every drop of him then she opened her mouth. His seed was gone. She'd done exactly what he'd asked. That was the exact moment he knew what love was. He knew he was so in love with her there would never be any other woman. Ever. It was Anya or no one.
"Keep your hands there, baby." Now his voice was husky. "You look so beautiful."
"You're a little crazy, Reaper." She said it, but she smiled at him.
"I know. Can you live with my crazy?" He ran his finger through the ropes of cream on her breasts. Rubbed the liquid around her aureoles and nipples. Pinched. Wrote his name. Collected the seed on his fingers and pressed it to her lips. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his fingers in. She sucked. Licked his fingers clean. She was fucking perfect.
"You know something, baby?" He bent his head to kiss her, uncaring that they were both sticky. That she tasted like him.
"I can't wait to find out."
"I'm going to fuck you on that bar. I've fantasized about it so much and knowing you have, I've got to do it."
She laughed, the sound happy. "Please make sure the customers are gone first."
"I'll try. Won't be as much fun without you shrieking, all embarrassed. Gonna fuck you in Ink's shop too. Want him to ink where I spank you. My hand on your ass."
"I might have to draw the line there, Reaper."
"Draw away, baby. I'm fuckin' beat. Have to go to sleep now."
"I have to take a shower."
"You leave me on your skin tonight. Wash me off in the morning." He fed her more of him. He lo
ved watching his fingers disappear into her mouth. The feel of her tongue sliding around and between his fingers, cleaning them, drove him nuts.
She studied his face as if she was thinking of protesting, but in the end, she nodded. He slid off her, rolled her to her side away from him and curled his body around her. He locked his arm under her breasts and buried his face in her hair.
"Did you bring that woman home safely?"
"She's home," he said. "She's alive, and we're not talking about it. I just fucked you, feeling good, babe, don't want to relive that fucked-up mess."
"It's okay, Reaper. Go to sleep. I'm just glad you're home. I was a little scared something might happen to you."
He thought about that as he drifted off. Anya afraid for him while he went off to work. Had anyone been afraid for him before? Czar maybe, but if he was, he hadn't voiced it. Anya was giving him things he didn't know how to process, but they were good things. Everything about Anya was good.
Reaper drifted in an erotic tangle of fiery heat. He had Anya on her knees, her face turned up to his, eyes locked on his, his cock, thick and hard, shoved deep down that hot wetness. Para-fucking-dise. He held himself there, savoring that feeling, the power, the sheer submission in her eyes as she gave him whatever he demanded. This wasn't for her. Not at all. This was all for him. She didn't know. Only he knew. She would serve him. Do exactly as he wanted. Hold his cock down her throat until she couldn't breathe, until her eyes went wide with fear and tears formed. Until she saw the blade coming at her throat, but couldn't do a fucking thing about it.
Fists pounded on his thighs. He heard sounds. Muffled screams. That face. That ugly, disgusting excuse for a human being at him again. Using him. Forcing him to do whatever she wanted. Her partner whipping him, pounding on him with his fists. Her laughter echoed in his ears as his partner rammed into him, as pain exploded in his belly. He struck over and over again at that face. Wanting to kill her. Needing to kill her. He would kill them both.
His eyes snapped open as he reached blindly for the knife he kept close. He realized he had his fist buried in thick hair and he was jerking Anya's head back. His cock was down her throat and his fist hit her cheek, knocking her back and away from him. She crawled like an animal away from him, gasping for breath.
He stared at her in horror, saw droplets of blood on the carpet leading away from him. A single sound escaped his throat. He looked around frantically, for the first time in his life praying, begging whatever powers there were, that he hadn't had a knife. He couldn't move. Couldn't go after her. He was frozen, just standing there, helpless, silent screams tearing his throat apart.
Anya made it to the wall and pulled herself into a sitting position, her lungs on fire, her throat raw and sore. The left side of her face felt mangled, swollen, on fire to rival her lungs. She turned terrified eyes on Reaper. He let out a howl, like a wounded animal. Then he was pounding the wall, over and over, roaring with pain.
Seeing his pain, his hopeless fury, was the worst thing she'd ever witnessed in her life. She was terrified for him, not herself. She knew this was the thing Reaper had most feared would happen. He'd been afraid of killing her. She didn't know what the trigger was, or why it was a trigger, but she recognized that there had been one. He'd tried so hard to keep this from happening, and now, when he knew he'd hurt her, when he knew he could have killed her, she was afraid of what he'd do to himself.
His boots were just a few feet from her and next to them were his neatly folded colors and his phone. She couldn't stop Reaper from hurting himself, his problems were so far out of her realm, but she knew there was someone else who could. She stretched her arm out, not taking her eyes from him. Blood trickled down her cheek. Her left eye was swelling shut. She hurt, especially her throat, but it wasn't the physical pain that was her undoing. Her heart was in a panic. How did she bring him back from this? How did she come back from this? She would be afraid to go to sleep, and so would he.
Her fingertips caught at the phone and she dragged it to her. Her throat was so raw and bruised she doubted she could talk. She wouldn't know what to say to anyone. His phone was pass-protected, but she'd watched him punch in the numbers more than once. She did it, scrolled to Czar's name and hastily typed in: 911 need help with Reaper. Hurry. It's bad. Surely Czar would know what to do.
She drew her knees protectively to her chest, tears running unchecked down her face. He had to stop. He was mangling his hands, punishing himself. She wanted him to stop, but she knew he'd leave if he did. He dropped his hands suddenly and turned to face her. She'd never seen a face more ravaged.
"Anya . . ." He broke off, shaking his head. "Baby. I wouldn't hurt you for the world. You have to know I wouldn't ever do anything . . ." He broke off again.
Her heart broke into a million pieces. Reaper. Her Reaper. Strong. Invincible. He was crushed. Broken. Tears trickled down his face, and she knew he wasn't even aware of them. He didn't come to her. He just stood there, blood dripping from his knuckles onto the floor.
"I'm leaving, Anya. Just know, in my fucked-up way, I love you. I've never said that to another human being. I love you. I'm sorry for this." His hand started to gesture toward the bed of blankets, but then turned to sweep down his body. "I knew I was fucked-up. I should never have taken a chance on your life." He looked around the room, realized he didn't have his clothes and turned away from her.
She had to stop him. Had to find a way. "Reaper."
He stopped moving, but he didn't turn around. Just shook his head. "No, baby. We don't get past this one. I'm not taking a chance with your life, and I don't think I can live without you." He started back up the stairs.
She knew it. She knew what he was planning. He was going to ride his motorcycle right over a cliff. She'd known he would do it the moment she woke up with his hand in her hair, yanking her to her knees, shoving his cock down her throat. Reaper was rough, but he never hurt her. Never. There had been a difference in his touch. He hadn't been the same man and she knew she was in trouble. She also knew she would recover and get past it, but he wouldn't.
She glanced down at the phone she still clutched in her hand and typed in another message. I can't stop him by myself. If you don't get here, Reaper won't survive. She didn't want Czar to think she was afraid Reaper would leave her. He had to know that Reaper would end his life.
Even as she finished typing the last word and hit send, she heard the sound of bikes. Not one. Several. She took a deep breath, praying the locks wouldn't stop Reaper's family from coming right in.
Reaper was halfway down the stairs when Savage, Ice and Storm came striding in the front door. Absinthe, Steele and Preacher came through the kitchen into the great room. All scanned the room, took in Anya's huddled figure with her swollen face, Reaper's ravished features and mangled fists and then it was Savage who moved first. He walked over to the bed, ripped a blanket off the floor and took it to Anya. He knelt beside her and gently tucked it around her.
"Do you need a doctor?"
His voice was so gentle, tears blurred her vision all over again. She shook her head. "Don't let him go. He'll do something crazy. Please don't let him go." Her voice was a thread of sound and every word hurt.
"Take care of her," Reaper said and came down the rest of the stairs.
Savage regarded his brother as Reaper caught up his boots and sat down to yank them on. "Czar's on his way. Wait for him."
Reaper gestured toward Anya. "I did that. Didn't know what the fuck I was doing and nearly killed her. You think anything Czar says to me, you say to me, or any of you says, including her, will have me takin' that chance again? Not fuckin' likely."
"Reaper, please," Anya said, brokenly. She knew it was a mistake immediately. Her voice was husky, her throat raw and burning, and it showed in her tone. She couldn't speak above a whisper even if she tried.
"Baby, I'm not takin' chances with your life and I'm not fucking living without you."
Czar strode into the room. He l
ooked larger than life. Anya couldn't believe how relieved she felt, as if somehow he could work a miracle when no one else had a clue what to do. He took in the scene, and she saw knowledge on his face. No one had to explain to him what had happened or what Reaper intended to do.
"Everyone take a breath. Reaper, stop scaring her. You haven't lost her. She's not the one threatening to leave. That's you. There's always a solution. Your way is bullshit and you're not going there. One of us might not be able to take you, but there's seven of us here and I can call for reinforcements. Go over there and sit your ass down so I can think."
Anya drew the blanket closer around her. She couldn't stop shaking. Now that help had arrived, shock was setting in. She couldn't stop the burning tears no matter how hard she tried. She also couldn't look away from Reaper, silently begging him to listen to Czar. She hoped that childhood faith would kick in.
Reaper hesitated, looked around at his brothers and then walked over to her. Anya watched him come, shocked, as he got closer, at the lines carved deep, the unchecked tears spilling over. He didn't notice them, he didn't even wipe at them. He slid down the wall right next to her, defeated. His shoulder touched hers. His thigh. She was very cold and her body welcomed the heat radiating off of his.
He sat beside her ramrod stiff and then he slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Baby, stop shaking. You're going to break bones shaking like this." His mangled knuckles slid down the side of her face, moving gently over the swelling bruise there.
"Ice, see if you can find water in the fridge for Anya. Steele's going to take a look at your eye and cheek, Anya," Czar said.
She shook her head. She didn't want any of them to look too closely. She didn't want them judging Reaper.
"Yes," Czar said. "Reaper, control your woman."
She opened her mouth to protest and then realized Czar was making Reaper responsible for her. Giving him something to think about other than walking out and driving off a cliff.
"He's right, baby, Steele needs to look at you and see if there's any permanent damage. I don't remember hitting you, but I remember the dream and I was fighting for my life." Again, his knuckles slid down her cheek.