Page 40 of Burn for Her

Her host had arrived.

Was he staring at her? Going through her file? She remained still and focused on the embarrassing fact that her palms had started sweating. The air felt electrified—same as when she made the first swing in a fight. Perhaps that’s why she was suddenly so nervous. For once, Lena wasn’t going to make the first swing.

But that didn’t mean she liked dangling like a punching bag either.

Seriously, part of her felt like a slab of meat hanging there. But she was also exposed and vulnerable, which she secretly liked too.

“Are you there?” She hoped her voice didn’t give away how excited she was.

Pain was right, now that she couldn’t see, her other senses were trying to make up for it. Lena heard soft footfalls come closer to her. She inhaled and smelled the most amazing cologne. “What’s your name?”

Should she be talking? Fuck it, she paid for this experience so she could do what she wanted so long as it wasn’t against the rules. “I know you can’t tell me your real name, but I want to call you something. Master? Sir?” Her head turned when she heard his approaching footfalls land on her right. “Alpha?”

“Reaper.”

Holy. Shit. Her host’s voice was pure seduction. Lust shot straight down her belly and pooled between her thighs. “Reaper,” she purred with a smile.

Here’s hoping he lived up to that name. She needed someone to slay the beast inside her…

Lena came to New Orleans looking for danger. Here’s hoping she finally found it.

“What’s your name?”

Dorian didn’t want to give her his real name. Not here. Not like this. And he knew the rules of the club were no real identities, so he went with “Reaper.”

It wasn’t a lie.

“Reaper,” Lena purred as if his name alone made her wet.

Sweet mother of all that was unholy, he nearly dropped to his knees and begged forgiveness for what he wanted to do to her to make her scream his name until the Devil himself woke and shuddered.

He walked around her. Admired every angle. Breathed through the rising, thunderous need clawing its way out of his soul.

“What are you here for?” His voice dropped to an ungodly level. His fangs pierced his lips with each syllable. He was thankful for the pain and the reminder of what he was right now. It helped keep him in check.

“My file is—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your paperwork. Tell me yourself.”

What did his mate crave so fiercely she’d step into a warzone for? This wasn’t a paradise. It was a buffet. Thank fuck she was dressed in red. That meant no other had tasted her yet. The fact that she was dangling alone in here before he arrived meant her assigned host hadn’t seen her.

Another miracle.

“I want to be edged.” She straightened as much as she could in her position, and he admired her attempt to have some confidence.

His dick strained against his zipper. Edging was only the beginning of his plans for her. He ran a thumb across his bottom lip—the urge to take her and mark her was so strong he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. “Go on.”

Tell me everything I can do to you…

Dorian had gone from denying himself this exact opportunity to refusing to give it up. He wasn’t leaving here without her. He couldn’t. Not now. One glimpse of her in the flesh and she was under his skin. Every atom he possessed set off like a billion little flint sticks, sparking to life. Heating his veins. Melting his control.

A terrible sensation brushed his other senses. Dorian didn’t want a tiny taste or nibble. He wanted to gobble her up whole.

Flexing his hand, he ached to spank her ass just to see his handprint mark what was his. Instead, Dorian curled his hand into a fist, bought it to his mouth, and bit it. The pain brought him back to reality… for a minute.

“Tell me what else you want.”

“I want to be railed hard enough that I go into some kind of subspace,” Lena’s chin thrust out and a brow arched over her blindfold. “I want to float and fly apart. Scream, cry, sweat, and lose myself.”

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