Page 12 of Reaper's Hunt

There’s only one woman I know who looks like that, a woman who shouldn’t be anywhere near someone like Malik.Fuck.Malik’s late-night hunts for something interesting to obsess over must’ve led him to Selene. Why did it have to be tonight, of all nights, when she was probably dumping that kill I pulled her away from. My jaw tightens as I drag him flush against me, a hint of a growl at the edge of my words. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Malik tilts his head, blue eyes glinting with amusement, unbothered by my tone. “I didn’t,” he murmurs, a smirk curling his lips. “Not really. I wanted to.”

I grab him by the throat, fingers digging into his skin, and growl into his face again, close enough to feel his breath. “She’s mine.”

Malik shakes his head, his pulse steady under my grip, like he’s enjoying this. He probably is. “You’ll have to share my little sparrow,” he teases, but there’s an edge to it, a hunger I know too well. When he fixates on something or someone, he’s impossible to deal with. I know that Selene won’t just be mine anymore, but I don’t have to tell him that.

I tighten my hold, leaning in until our noses nearly touch. “Don’t touch her. I mean it, Malik. Hands off.”

Malik doesn’t take orders. Not from me, not from anyone. He’s an unpredictable storm, and a guy like him would terrify Selene. He’d want to break her, tie her up, play with her head, rebuild her into something he could keep, then kiss it all better. Anything he calls precious, anything he nicknames like that, becomes his next obsession, and I’m not sure Selene could survive it. Not sure I want her to.

I decide to distract him the only way I know how. I crash my mouth against his, kissing him hard, my tongue claiming every inch of him. My hands move fast, undoing his belt, popping the button on his pants, and pulling out his cock, already half-hard in my grip. I give him a few slow strokes, my thumb circling the tip, and he sighs into my mouth, a soft, needy sound that makes my blood heat. “You leave her alone,” I rumble against his lips, my hand working him faster. “Don’t fucking hurt her.”

Malik’s head tips back, his throat bobbing under my grip, but his voice is still light, teasing me as if he’s in control. “I saved her. Kept her from getting caught.” He hums his appreciation of my hand on his cock as he grips my shoulders for purchase. “Who’s Anabella Thatcher?”

My entire body tenses at a name I haven’t heard in almost ten years, a name that shouldn’t be on the lips of my lover. A name that only two people know the true meaning of. The name of a woman I keep at my side and refuse to let see my true feelings.

Selene’srealname.

Knowing that if I interrupt this moment to figure out the truth, I’ll have a problem on my hands. I stroke Malik a little faster, squeezing my hand around his neck a little tighter so he can feel my anger. He starts bucking into my grip, those guttural moans pulling me until he comes fast, hot and messy over my fingers. It’s an obscene picture of desire, those lips parted, his blue eyes bright with need as I lift my hand to his mouth.

“Lick.”

Those eyes sparkle just a little bit as his tongue darts out to clean my hand, the man humming with pleasure as he tastes himself on my skin. He doesn’t stop until he’s sucked up every last drop, looking to me for approval.

“Good boy,” I murmur, knowing full well that Malik is going to fuck the shit out of me when we go upstairs. Unfortunately, there’s a much more pressing conversation that needs to be had. “How the fuck do you know that name?”

“My little sparrow left me a present. She called it Gertrude. Such a stupid name but I like it because of her.” He rushes to a small bag by the edge of the kitchen, his cock still hanging out of his pants, before he lifts up a hammer I definitely gave Selene all those years ago. It was all I had, something I stole from my father’s garage and then carved our names into it. My name wasn’t Dante then, so it’s a bit easier to pretend to not know who the fuck those people are. Malik will figure it out eventually though. The worst part is that Selene left something at the fucking crime scene. She’s getting too sloppy.

I don’t want Malik anywhere near her, but I have to be glad that he was there tonight.

“Yeah, keep that safe for her. Now, go upstairs and get ready for me so I can fuck you to sleep. Ronan says you haven’t been sleeping again.”

Those are the magic words; an unhinged smile spreading across those delicious lips. “Not tired, Dante,” he taunts, slipping the hammer back into his bag. I’ll steal that later. “Can’t sleep when Sparrow’s out there.”

I stalk up to him, dragging him back toward me, my fingers pinching his chin. “You will be passed out when I’m done with you,” I promise. He needs this, needs me to burn the chaos out of him before he does something I can’t fix. Although, it’s probably going to be my ass hurting if I’m honest with myself.

Malik’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Bring Sparrow to play, and I’ll sleep,” he says, raising a hand like a mock salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“You’re the farthest thing from a scout,” I retort, shoving him toward the stairs. “Maybe I’ll bring her if you’re good. Now, upstairs.”

He cackles again, darting upstairs, my mind reeling with the possibilities of Selene between us. It can’t happen, but that doesn’t mean I won’t imagine it. As much as she’s mine, I wouldn’t mind watching her fall apart at another’s hand. However, then I’d have to fucking gut him, and I kind of like Malik.

The fucker’s already sitting on the edge of the bed, fully naked when I step into my bedroom. That smile of his is nothing less than predatory, promising a night that’ll leave me bruised and spent. I should be trying to take him out of his head but some sick, twisted part of me loves these moments just as well. My cock twitches, already half-hard, because I can see it in his posture and his dark eyes that this is gonna be rough.

I peel off my shirt and then kick off my jeans, sighing as the cool air from the cracked bedroom window hits me. “Just don’t leave any marks people can see, babe,” I muse, tossing my clothes into the corner. “I still got a day job.” Not that I care, but Harley will ask, and I don’t want to have to explain shit to him.

Malik hesitates for a second, no doubt casing my skin for the best place to mark me before he lunges, rustling me onto the bed with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs. His mouth crashes against mine, bruising kisses that taste like smoke and hunger, his teeth nipping my lip until I hiss. He moves down, lips and tongue trailing fire across my jaw, my throat, my chest, sucking my skin into his mouth until the skin starts to bruise. Those marks will mix in with the tattoos, hiding Malik’s raw need. Had it been another night, there’d be knives involved and somehow I’m both disappointed and glad they aren’t.

Malik continues his assault, each pull of his mouth sending a jolt straight to my cock, my hands fisting the sheets as he marks me. His teeth graze my nipple, biting just hard enough to make me groan, and I feel his smirk against my skin, the bastard knowing exactly what he’s doing. I’m rock hard and uncomfortable, anticipation building in my chest on how this night will play out. He’ll fuck me until he tires of it or I’ll fuck him after, I’m not sure.

He flips me over with a rough shove, my face pressed into the mattress as his teeth sink into my shoulder, drawing blood. The pain explodes through me before turning into pleasure, Malik rutting against my ass, the man grinding with no mercy as his cock slips between my ass cheeks. I grit my teeth, arousal warring with the sting. “If you don’t fucking use lube, we’re not doing this again. Lube, babe.Lube.” I’m all for a little pain, but that is not the type of pain I enjoy.

Malik lets out a wild growl, half-laugh, half-snarl, and leans over to fumble in the nightstand drawer before grabbing the bottle. He then pops the cap open, giggling as he looks down at me. “So demanding,” he teases, but there’s a hunger in it, a need that matches mine. He slicks his fingers, the cold shock of lube hitting my puckered hole as he presses against me, one finger sliding in. It’s pain and pleasure twisted together, a burn that makes me hiss, but my cock throbs, leaking against the sheets. He adds another finger, stretching me with no patience, his jagged movements telling me he’s already losing control. I push back against him, needing more, needing him to break me.

“Fuck, Malik,” I mutter, voice muffled against the mattress, my hands clawing at the sheets. His dark chuckle rumbles against my back as he presses a kiss to my shoulder blades, his fingers replaced by the blunt press of his cock. It’s the softest he’s going to be tonight, but I’m okay with that.For now.

He slides in slow at first, and then he’s fucking me like a crazy man. As if he’s punishing me for something I’m not yet aware of, his hips slamming against my ass. The bed creaks beneath us, the headboard banging against the wall as I reach up to brace myself on the wood. His hands find mine, one curling into the sheets, the other placed over mine against the headboard as he drives into me, harder, faster, relentlessly.

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