Page 144 of Breaker

“Do you trust me, Kitten?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.

A shiver moves down my back. His brothers trust him implicitly. Cora trusts him. I trust him to follow through asbest he can. My heart though? I have a feeling he’s capable of wrecking it.

“I trust you with my body,” I say.

Reaper’s hand drops. The way he stiffens makes me think I found another way to penetrate his steely facade. Hewantsme to trust him. Not just with my body but with all of me.

He draws in a breath. His touch feathers down my arm. That skull face smirks and screams.

“You say want me, but I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” he says. “I’m made from something evil. Born with the taste of death on my tongue.”

The fingers skimming my arm move to slip over my collarbone, the gentle caress so at odds with his words. My pulse threatens to explode when he moves closer, weaving both hands into my hair, yanking my head back. My body arches into him, feeling heat and hardness press into my belly. Reaper brushes his masked lips over my exposed throat.

His breath heats my skin. “You still want me, Kitten? Even though I’m nothing but death and destruction?”

Liar. He’s more.

My palms land flat on his chest. He stiffens, but relaxes as I ease them lower, feeling the hardness of his body, dipping my fingers into the curves of muscles, letting them skim his nipple under his shirt.

I drop my hands to my sides. This craving in me is so raw, so primitive, that in this moment, I don’t care if he ruins me.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Easing his grip in my hair, he stands to his full height, looming over me.

I should be scared of him.

I should be a lot of things.

“I’ll be gentle with you this time,” he says, voice dripping with darkness.

This time.

“Tonight, you will submit. Everything.”

My heart races.

“Go lie down on your back.”

A throb pulses in my clit. I do as asked, stepping away from him and lying on the bed, flat on my back, heart thundering, stomach heated yet dipping with nerves when he walks toward me.

I’ve been with Striker alone, but I wasn’t nervous. I felt that gentleness in him that first night. He’s so in tune with me, knowing when I need a soft touch, knowing when I need that feral thirst quenched.

Reaper has feed me small bits of his gentle side, but I know it’s there. I don’t know which man I’m going to get now. The one who holds me down forcing me to admit what I want or the man who craves me to the point he hates me for it.

I know how he feels.

This needy ache for him leaves me resentful.

“Grip the headboard,” he says, leaning over to grab something. When he pulls the rope Striker brought in this morning from under the pillow my face heats. He really was watching. “I’m going to bind you to the bed, and spread you open for me. Then I’m going to blindfold you.”

My heart rate kicks up higher as I whisper, “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“No. I mean yes, do it.”

Reaper wraps the rope around one wrist. I look up angling my head to watch as he guides it through the railing and then wraps it round my other wrist, effectively tying my hands to the railing. The hard tug on the rope as he tests the restraints confirms I’m not getting free, making my stomach drop.

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