Page 56 of They Call Him Reaper

He turns his head in my direction but doesn’t move beyond that. “It wasn’t right. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Okay,” I tell him with a kiss on his pec, collarbone, neck, and cheek.

I feel his smile under my lips. “This is the opposite of sleep,cariño.”

“What? I’m being comforting.”

Dante’s chuckle is low and sexy as he turns on his side to face me. “You are being seductive.”

It’s my turn to laugh because I’m genuinely content with falling asleep holding him.

“No. Comforting.” I drop a kiss on his lips. “It’s just an innocent kisses.”

Dante cups the back of my neck and gives me a longer kiss. “Our kisses are never innocent.”

His other warm hand slides up my leg until he grabs the back of my knee. I bury my hand in his hair and stare into his eyes the best I can in the low light. The quiet moments like this are what I love. Just having him here and feeling the warmth of his firmbody pressed against mine is enough to make me happy. Dante’s erection makes its presence known when it pokes my thigh.

“I really was trying to be comforting,” I whisper with a smile.

I try not to pout when he rips my underwear. It was one of my most comfortable pairs. I’ll accept their fate to connect with my husband.

“Oh, Inaya. You need to learn the power of your touch.” He nips at my jaw as he slides into me. Our moans mingle and our lips are a taste away from each other. “Only you have the power to turn me on.” He moves us until I’m on top of him. Dante removes my night shirt, running kisses over the skin. “The only one to ever make it pleasurable.”

His words stay stuck in my head as I ride both of us to orgasm.

Despite the post sex cuddling, my brain is still replaying what he said in a loop. There was a touch of vulnerability in his words.

“Dante? You don’t have to tell me now, but I want to know what you meant.”

One of the things I love about Dante is he doesn’t have the patience to bullshit me. His super memory also aids in his conversation recall.

“Just what I said. I’ve never enjoyed sex before you.”

I know it can happen with women since our bodies should come with instruction manuals, but men are a different story.

“How?” The question comes out before I can think better of it. Dante’s following long exhale tells me more than I want to know.

“Father forced me to lose my virginity,” he starts, immediately making me wish I could drink. “Any sex after that was part of the missions.”

I withhold my comment, although my sadness and anger are already building. Dante starts from the beginning to give me every detail I wanted to hear but dreaded knowing. By the timehe's done, my face is wet from my tears, and I feel more than capable of killing Father myself.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Dante

Carlos never learned patience.He’s been on a warpath since he knocked himself out. His goal for vengeance is consuming him and he’s not focused. Lack of focus breeds sloppiness. Each of his attempts to implicate me in crimes just gives the detectives more doubt because he continues to leave a little of himself behind. He’s blinded by hatred and Father isn’t around to use him as a weapon. A rabid beast without an owner.

It works in my favor; I’ve been able to manipulate evidence against him. He’ll learn the proper way to set a trap for someone at his own expense. I’ve been on this mission too long. It’s making me restless. Father needs to die after his empire fails, so I can move on with my life.

The loud pop of a gun firing brings my attention back to the present in time to see Inaya’s bullet graze the shoulder of a target. The fact that she hit it is an improvement, but she still has much work to do.

“What in the hell was that? Inaya, I already told you. Take a steady breath. Focus on your aim. Slowly exhale. Pause. Fire before your next breath.” I take the gun to demonstrate. “And ease your finger on the trigger. Don’t squeeze hard or force it!”

Inaya gives me that look she gets when she wants to punch me, but knows it’s not a good idea. I wouldn’t hurt her, but she met me when I was my worst, so I understand the hesitation. The creasing in her forehead and her lips pouting out to give me her mad face is still one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen, butcutedoesn’t always keep you alive.

“Frown later and focus,” I tell her. “Try again.”

Inaya places the gun on the table out of silent protest.

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