Page 15 of Reaper's Hunt

I frown, my hands stilling on her hips. “Seriously?” I ask, my voice rough with a mixture of amusement and irritation.

“I don’t care how I get my fuck, just that I get it,” she snaps, her eyes flashing. “Stop worshipping my ass and show me what you got.”

A wide smile splits across my face as I undo my pants, not needing to be told twice. I pump my cock a few times, already rock-hard, and flatten her chest against the desk, her hands splaying across the surface for balance. I line up, the head of my cock brushing her entrance, and surge inside, no warning, no gentleness. This is what she wanted, right?

She’s so fucking tight, clenching around me, but I freeze when she lets out a little howl of pain, her body tensing beneath me. My hands grip her hips softly, ready to pull back. “Too much?” This is always an issue when it comes to fucking the random women in my bar. They say they want it rough and then I overestimate what that means.

She pushes back against me, hard, her ass grinding into my pelvis, her pussy trying to strangle my cock. I swear she’s doing that on purpose. “Most of your one-night stands might be soft and pliant,” she growls back at me, “but don’t go easy on me.”

That’s all I need to hear. Well, there’s one more thing. “Safe word?” I ask, because I’m not in the business of pain, not without boundaries, no matter how much I want to wreck her.

An unhinged laugh falls from her lips that makes my cock twitch inside her. “My safe word is ‘don’t fucking stop,’” she says, her hands bracing harder on the desk, her body arching to take me deeper.

Andthat’sall I need. I pull back and thrust deep inside of her again, setting a brutal pace, each snap of my hips driving her into the desk. The wood groans, papers sliding to the floor, her moans echoing through the small office as her fingers claw at the surface. Most women I fuck want the softer side of me, the charming bartender who listens and pours. They don’t want the part that hunts, that breaks, that craves the edge of violence. But her? She’s begging for it, pushing back to meet every thrust, her body a perfect mix of resistance and surrender. I lean over, my chest pressing against her back, and bite her shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough to make her gasp, her walls tightening around me.

“Fuck, you’re something else,” I growl, my hands sliding up to grip her wrists, pinning them to the desk. I fuck her harder, the room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, her moans, my grunts. However, I need more. I need to hear her scream, to break her open until she’s nothing but pleasure and surrender. I pull out, ignoring her sharp gasp, and flip her around before setting her on the edge of the desk. Then I push against her chest, laying her back down on my desk, her wide stormy eyes watching as I lift her leg until her foot is dangling over my shoulder.

Watching her lips part as I fuck back into her wet heat iseverything.She lets out a feral moan, my teeth grazing her calf as I thrust, my free hand finding her clit. I rub it furiously, rough circles that make her buck, her moans turning to cries. Splayed out for me like this, she’s absolutely gorgeous, my hunger for those delicious sounds growing as I drop her leg a little to lean down, teething over her tits through her dress, nipping hard enough to make her gasp, my body contorting to get closer, to drive deeper inside of her.

“Mark me, sweetheart. Show me how much you like this.”

My gaze drops to one of her hands, fingers extending and curling up as if she’s unsure of whether or not to touch me. For a moment, I don’t think she’ll listen. Then her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to break skin, sting the perfect bite of pain I need. She comes hard and fast, shuddering beneath me, her body convulsing as she rides the wave.

“That’s one,” I murmur, a smirk curling my lips. “I’m gonna drag another two out of you before I let you go home.”

I drop her leg completely, letting it fall to the desk and hover over her, my mouth hovering over hers. She’s flushed, sweat glistening on her skin, her eyes half-lidded but defiant. I go for a kiss, needing to taste her, but she turns her head at the last moment. “No kissing.”

“And I kiss when I fuck hard,” I say, my lips brushing her jaw, teasing the sensitive skin there. “Take it or leave it.” She’ll either fix her dress and leave or tell me to go fuck myself. I’ll give her another orgasm regardless but watching her expressive face is giving me ideas.Terribleideas.

She glares up at me, this woman I still don’t even have a name for, before tilting her chin up, offering herself to me. I instantly claim her mouth, the woman tasting like tequila, ginger, and darkness itself. Her lips move against mine as I kiss her harder, my teeth nipping her bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from her.

Restarting my pace, I build her back up to a second orgasm, one of my hands roaming to find her throat, not squeezing, just resting, her pulse racing beneath my fingers.

I feel her tightening again, her breaths coming faster, her hips rocking to meet my thrusts. I angle deeper, hitting that spot that makes her gasp, and rub her clit again, softer this time, teasing until she’s trembling. “Come on, sweetheart,” I murmur against her mouth. “Give me another.” She’s close, her moans turning to whimpers, her nails digging into my arms, leaving fresh marks. I thrust harder, faster, my own release building, the heat pooling in my gut. She comes again, her cry muffled against my lips, her body arching off the desk, and I’m right there with her, spilling into her with a groan that feels like it’s torn from my soul. “Holy shit, you’re perfect.”

I’m still out of breath as I pull back, watching my cum dribble out of her pretty cunt, but I meant what I said.Three times, no less. She’s still trembling, her eyes glassy, but there’s a spark in them, a challenge that makes my cock twitch, already stirring again but she’s not ready for the night I could give her.

Selene

There’saglintofdeviance in Ronan’s eyes, something that makes me push up on my hands a little because I have no idea what he’s doing. I didn’t actually think he was going to make me come that hard, and the way he’s staring at my cunt is doing things to me. Before I can ask him what the fuck he’s doing, he drops to his knees, his hands spreading my legs wider, and stuffs his face into between them.

A gasp tears from my throat as my fingers tangle in his dark curls, the other slapping over my mouth to keep from screaming. It’s so dirty, so fucking filthy, the way his tongue drags inside me, lapping at his own cum, desperate to pull another orgasm from me. My thighs tremble, my pussy clenching around him, pushing his release into his mouth. The sensation’s overwhelming—hot, wet, and depraved, like he’s claiming every inch of me.

I’m shocked by his enthusiasm, by the way he fucks as hard as he promised, no hesitation, no softness, just raw, unrelenting need. Most men talk a big game, but Ronan’s different, a welcome surprise. I’m too sensitive to come again but the pleasure’s ramping up again anyway, threatening to drag me over that edge again regardless.

His tongue works me over, swirling over my clit, dipping inside to chase the mix of our releases. My fingers tighten in his hair and he groans against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine. My other hand slips from my mouth, clawing at the desk, papers crinkling beneath my nails. I’m close again, the oversensitivity making way for another orgasm. His lapping grows more frantic, his fingers bruising my thighs as he digs in a little tighter, holding me open as he devours me. I shatter a third time, a raw, feral cry tearing from my throat as I come, my pussy flooding his mouth with my release and his own cum. He gorges on it, his tongue drawing out every shudder, every pulse, until I’m just a trembling mess trying to catch my breath.

Ronan stands, his face glistening with a mixture of our releases, cheeks puffed out just a little, as he wraps a hand around my neck, pulling me up into a sitting position. His eyes lock on mine, silently asking for my safe word. I know I should use it because I don’t know him, don’t know the depths of his darkness.

I’m the Reaper, a killer who guts abusers for their hearts, but this man’s unraveling me, pushing me into a space I’ve never been. Some part of me, the twisted, hungry part, wants the filth, the claim, the way he’s rewriting my edges. I give a small nod, barely a movement, and then he leans forward to kiss me. His cum and my release dribble into my mouth, spilling down my chin, a salty-sweet mix that’s dirty as fuck, like he’s marking me inside and out. My pussy clenches again, already aching for more, the taste igniting a new hunger I didn’t know I had.

This time when he steps back, the rabid desire in his expression has lessened but he makes no move to clean off his face or mine, leaving us both marked, claimed,ruined. His tongue darts out to lap it up as he helps me to my feet, righting my thong and then my dress like a fucking gentleman.

I run a finger across my chin, staring at the slick mess on my skin, the evidence of what we’ve done. “What is it with men and marking the shit out of me?”

Ronan chuckles, giving me a few more inches to catch my breath, his jeans still undone, his cock half-hard. “You’re too fucking perfect not to mark,” he says, his eyes raking over me like he’s already planning another round if I’d let him. “That fire in you, the way you reacted, the way you strangled my cock. It’s begging to be claimed.”

He stuffs himself back into his pants, tilting his head a little as I shimmy my dress down a little farther. “You don’t even know me,” I mumble. “But hey, you kept your word, pretty boy. Better than I expected.” My words are absolutely a challenge because I’m not done with him either. I’ll stick him in the little bank of men I would actually want another night with. I drag a hand across my face, grimacing at the slickness now on my hand. It’sfine.

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