The Reaper (Dark Verse 2)

Morana basked in the glow of this moment in the dark. After the night she had had, after the life that she had had, this was the last place she would have thought herself to wind up at. In the home of

Tristan Caine. In the bed of Tristan Caine. In the arms of Tristan Caine. And yet, she couldn’t think of anywhere else to be. He had given her a taste of two things she’d never had - safety and home. Both had been concepts, ideas that existed in the lives of people who didn’t belong in her world, mirages that illusioned her kind. But he’d been feeding her little doses of both ever since that rainy night in the penthouse, and she was addicted. In the arms of the most dangerous man she knew, she felt the safest she had ever been.

A light sound against her ear broke through her musings.

Morana heard it, and her lips trembled with the sudden urge to chuckle. She pressed them together as the sound came again, softly.

Tristan 'The Predator' Caine snored like a baby.

No wonder he didn’t like anyone in the room when he slept; his entire reputation would be crushed. Lips twitching, she turned her face towards him, feeling his exhale on her forehead as her nose pressed into the happy spot she'd discovered between his neck and shoulder.

That was the moment she found out something new about herself - she was a cover hogger. Sometime during the night, she had completely pulled the blanket over to her side, leaving him half in the cold and half in the snuggly warmth. He had simply come over to her side of the bed in the unconscious retaliation. Between his body heat and her conquered covers, she was toasty. Sighing happily, no idea of the time behind the dark drapes that shut out the light, Morana snuggled deeper into him, that musky masculine scent of his flesh wrapping itself around her like another layer of comfort.

His arm jerked suddenly, jerking her body, making her realize it had been the cause of her wakefulness. His breathing changed, getting heavier, his hand tightening slightly on the side of her ribs. Morana tilted her neck back, trying to see his face but only able to make out the silhouette in the darkness. His fingers spasmed on her flesh, his breaths getting shorter. Morana recognized the signs, having experienced them herself on numerous nights, but she’d never witnessed anyone going through a nightmare. She wondered what his subconscious was showing him. With the brutal life he’d led, most of which she couldn’t even fathom, she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised by this.

Swallowing, her heart clenching, the desire to soothe him acute, Morana slowly placed her hand on his forearm, feeling the muscles flex involuntarily under her touch. No idea what to do, she went with her gut. Tucking her head in, she pressed her lips against his heart, feeling scarred tissue under her mouth, and softly kissed it while stroking his arm.

A low noise rumbled in his chest. His body twitched.

“Shh,” Morana whispered, pressing soft kisses on his chest, stroking his arm over and over again. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

His body tensed, the bicep right beside her breasts bunching tightly as his neck moved. Morana patted his arm, nuzzling into his neck and murmuring the same words repeatedly into his skin.

A clock ticked somewhere in the house. Her heart beat steadily - thump thump thump - in tandem with it. Minutes passed. And slowly, eventually, she felt his strained muscles loosening up, the grip he had on the side of her ribs easing.

Morana spoke against his heart again, “You’re safe. It’s okay.”

“Leave the bed next time,” his raspy voice whispered against her hair. Having not expected him to wake up, Morana tried to pull her face back but his hand, which had been around her torso, came up to the back of her head and held her exactly where she’d been.

She settled in. “Not happening.”

“I can get dangerous,” he informed her, as though the thought had never crossed her mind. She wasn’t an idiot. Morana rolled her eyes but stayed silent.

“I’m serious,” his somber tone brooked no argument. “I can seriously hurt you and not know it.”

She shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.”

A frustrated noise left his throat and Morana tilted her head back, bringing her hand to the side of his head, the sensation of his hair between her fingers amplified in the dark.

“You made me a promise last night in the dark,” she murmured softly, knowing she had his full attention. “I’m making you one now.”

Brushing her thumb over the line of his jaw, feeling the scruff rasping against it, she vowed, repeating his own words. “Never again. You’ll never be alone again. No matter how bad the nightmare gets, I’m going to be right here.”

The weight of the words echoed in the silence between them for long minutes. His breathing didn’t change but his fingers flexed a bit on the back of her head. She knew what this meant to him. She could imagine all the emotions swirling through him, including the most dangerous one of all - hope. Dare he hope that she meant it? Dare he hope after everything he’d been through that he was still capable of hoping? She could imagine because that was exactly the thoughts she would’ve thought. And they were similar - she and him. Two sides of the same coin, two ends of the same string. She knew what giving this vow meant to her. There was no looking back; they were in this for the long haul.

“Break that promise,” he spoke, his voice soft as the underside of a blade, “and I will break mine.”

“Which one?” Morana asked, her heart beating faster as the awareness of him shifting closer seeped through.

He tugged her head up, arching her neck back, his nose brushing against her. “To not destroy you.”

His lips were right there against hers, almost there but not quite. Her face straining closer to bridge the gap but held back by his hand in her hair. She smiled, knowing he could feel it between them.

“Destroy me.”

The dam burst.

His lips crashed against hers in the most beautiful collision, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Everything from the previous night came flooding back - her fear, her close call, her relief at being alive. She could feel it all in the way he kissed her. It was the sensation of reassurance and promise of retaliation combined between his lips and hers. Her arms wound up around his neck, pulling him deeper as he shifted her completely on her back, his much larger form covering hers as he moved his weight on his arms. Their tongues twining, his taste infiltrated all her senses. Morana reveled in the complete, absolute sensation of holding him and having him hold her like that for the first time. Tugging his lower lip between hers, she ran her fingers down his muscular back, feeling all the delineations and scars under her touch, stopping at his very well-formed ass. She had admired that ass in secret multiple times and being able to hold it sent a thrill through her. She spread her legs wider to accommodate him, pulling on that sculpted ass, pulling him in the valley between her legs.