Page 26 of Reaper's Hunt

His eyes go a bit wider and I’m sure they’re going to pop out of his fucking head, the stench of piss meeting my nose. Any lingering desire to fuck him dies right there, my pussy clenching with disgust instead of want. “You wouldn’t know anyone who’d want you dead, would you?” I probe, fishing for the mysterious caller’s identity.

“I just cheat on my wife sometimes. Look, Selene, I don’t…”

I place a finger to his lips, trying to hold in my laughter. “Sometimes? Philip, let’s be honest. You’ve had a different girl in your bed at least once a month. Never the same one either. Probably worked your way through half of Ashthorne’s twenty-to-thirty crowd.”

“You don’t have to kill me. I’ll give you whatever you want. I have a family.”

Snorting, I tilt my head, settling my ass against his torso as my dress rides up my thighs. “And yet you’re fucking every walking pussy within a ten-mile radius. Be a little more creative than using your family as an emotional grab.”

“I’ve made mistakes, yeah, but this is overkill! Out me to my wife, show her all the pictures, make me lose custody of my kids but killing me? I don’t deserve that.”

He’s not wrong but he is a piece of shit, the fact that he’s bargaining custody over his kids instead of being killed. Like, Jesus Christ. What an upstanding family man. It’s notenoughto justify this kill but I’m going to pretend it is and then sleep like a baby tonight.

“You’re absolutely right, Philip. I really enjoyed dinner, too. Well, no, I’m lying. I’m sorry. Bad habit. Thing is, I would have been much happier at a burger joint or that little spaghetti place beside town hall. You should really stop flaunting your wealth and focus on a girl’s needs. Not that you’ll have the chance anymore,” I muse as I drag the tip of my knife down the middle of his chest. Blood beads against the red line I draw, a grin stretching across my face. “And just so you know, I don’t really do well with the whole emotion thing. I take what I want, use it, spit it back out. And when things have a more-than-one-time use, I do that too. Unfortunately, you’ve overstayed your welcome, and I need to get to the killing part.”

“Bitch, I’ll just scream.”

I shrug, reaching over onto the nightstand for a new piece of tape and then place it over his mouth. He starts screaming, the sound muffled as I pick up my phone and find the playlist I prepared for tonight. The tempo is supposedly the best beat to thrust to. I call bullshit but it’ll set the mood. “Philip, the fact that you thought someone like me wouldn’t have a plan is ridiculous. The fact that you haven’t figured out who I am is hilarious. And the look in your eyes as I dig my knife into your chest to get what I came for is going to be my favorite part of the whole night.”

I twirl my knife again before making a perfect slice down the middle of his chest. “See, most girls like flowers. Not me. I prefer a heart or two.Sixteento be exact. You’re going to be mySeventeenth.See that jar over there? I picked it out just for you. Right, you’re paralyzed,my bad.” A giggle forms on my lips as I deepen my cut, my tongue darting out to coat my lips, the thought of tasting him running through my head.

But I don’t. I don’t have time to play. Instead, I get to work, ignoring his screams and the way the veins in his neck strain and bulge out as I create my masterpiece. Splitting open his chest as I build my flower is the easy part and I lose myself to it as I hunch over him. I’m so in tune with grabbing my treasure that I nearly scream when a firm hand wraps around and grips my hip, another one slipping up to cover my mouth.

Panic spikes through me, my knife hovering over Philip’s bleeding chest, my breath hitching as I feel a man’s heat against my back, his breath hot against my ear. “Sparrow,” he murmurs, “I told you we’d meet again. Thought you might need this.” He removes his hand from my mouth and then my hammer appears at my side, the one he taunted me with a few days earlier.

It’s perfect for breaking bone, but I have no idea how this man found me or why he’s here. Trying to turn, I strain to see his face. “Who are you?” Unfortunately, most of it’s covered by a hoodie and some kind of over-the-top masquerade mask, nothing but a few strands of hair sitting in my peripheral vision.

A rough chuckle comes from him as his hands settle on my waist fully, the man kneeling behind me, between Philips legs. “I want to play.” He presses up against me, his cock sliding between my ass cheeks where my dress has ridden up. “Your lipstick’s pretty, but blood’s prettier.”

Nervous laughter bubbles up in my throat, my body caught between fear and arousal. “I just want to touch my sparrow while she makes art,” he growls as his hand slides around my front, dipping beneath my dress, fingers finding my clit through the lace. “You’re wet,” he murmurs against my ear before sucking the lobe between his lips.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around what the fuck is going on when he’s suddenly got the blunt tip of his cock pressed against my pussy, ignoring the lace strip of my thong. His other hand has moved, his arm holding me around my stomach, keeping me firmly in place. “What are you doing?” I snap, my body betraying me, hips twitching toward him even as my mind screams to fight.

It wouldn’t take much to fight him off but this has always been one of my darkest fantasies, a moment I’ve dreamed about since I killed my stepfather. Every kill afterward made me want to show the man beneath me that he was nothing, that he would never be more than nothing. The man behind me is giving me that chance and as depraved as this is as I stare down at Philip, his chest fileted open, his heart still beating in his chest… I want it.

“Shit, I’m supposed to ask,” the man behind me mumbles.

Like fuck I’m going to be telling him shit. He needs to take. When he doesn’t move, my hips do the work for him, rocking backward to suck his cock into me. That’s all the answer he needs as he thrusts fully into me, his cock stretching me wide when he’s fully seated. Holy fuck, it’sperfect.

I curse myself for wanting this, for liking this. I shouldn’t crave this feeling, and yet it feels like raw power being lorded over someone else. A garbled moan falls from my lips as the man behind me pulls out and then thrusts back in, one of his hands wrapping in my hair and tugging me backward. “Keep cutting, Sparrow. I want to watch.”

“It’s kind of hard to focus with you inside me,” I snap, my pussy squeezing around him, betraying every word. My body’s a traitor, even as my mind screams to fight this desperate, depraved need inside of me. “Didn’t I get you to understand I didn’t want this when I stabbed your fucking leg?”

A cold blade presses against my cheek, and I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.This is why we don’t let strangers fuck us, Selene. Shit.

“With this?” he muses, dragging the very knife I stabbed him with along my cheek. “You gave me a present, Sparrow and it just made me want you all that much more. Can’t wait to make you bleed too.” The next drag draws blood and it’s like a fucking high, the mixture of pain and pleasure swirling through me. Philip starts screaming again and if I don’t hurry up, the drug will wear off and that’s just not an option.

“Tell me you don’t want this, Sparrow and I’ll come back another day. But I can feel you, the way you’re squeezing me, sucking me in. You’re perfect for me.”

I want to fight back against his words but my pussy is already spasming, needing the release I always do after a kill. I struggle to keep myself upright, nowhere to rest my hands since Philip’s chest is kind of… exposed. The man behind me makes a smaller, second cut, blood dribbling down my cheek as he picks a slow, torturous pace.

“I’ll make you come once you get your prize. It’ll be like a reward.”

His teeth sink into my shoulder, the sudden sensation pushing my face forward into Philip’s chest cavity. Blood and organs pump against my face, the scrape of his ribs clawing against my forehead. It’s a fucking mess, something so disgusting I never once imagined it could happen as I made my art. And yet, I don’t have time to dwell on it as the man behind me yanks on my hair again, pushing me to continue my cuts and retrieve my treasure.

Blood’s dripping down my face, the thick scent of copper and death meeting my nose as the man behind me starts fucking into me mercilessly, like a wild animal and yet, still in time with the muscle.

I probably should be appalled that there’s only one thought running through my head right now.

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