Page 18 of Reaper & Ruin
I groaned, letting her push me back into the cushions. “You’re going to kill me.”
She grinned, already straddling me again. “You’ll die happy.”
She didn’t waste time once she had me beneath her again.
Her kisses were slower now. Her hips rolled with quiet confidence, but it wasn’t the same flirtatious game she usually played. There was no smart remark, no bratty taunt, no theatrical moan designed to make me laugh and groan at the same time. Just this quiet, almost reverent kind of focus.
And it hit me somewhere between the way she rocked against me and the way her breath caught on a sigh when I gripped her hips.
She wasn’t playing.
This wasn’t a performance. This was hermeaning it.
I cupped her face with one hand, thumb brushing her cheekbone. “You’re quiet,” I said gently, reading the look in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She paused. Just for a second. Then she nodded once.
But her voice cracked anyway.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her forehead pressing to mine. “I’m sorry I thought you were the villain in my story.”
The words punched something open inside me.
She kept going.
“Iknewyou. Deep down, Iknewyou. I should’ve made sure my evidence was foolproof—not just let grief and anger control me. Even without the parts Atlas manipulated, I still thought it was you. And I know you said I didn’t hurt you with what I did… that my revenge thing wasn’t bad. But I don’t care. I don’t like that I did it to you. That I thought you could do… do such a thing to Missy.”
I let her speak. Every word felt like a breath of cold air after weeks underwater.
But when she started to look away, I stopped her—just gently, with a hand at the back of her neck, bringing her back to me.
“I was hurt,” I admitted softly. “A little. That you thought I could do something like that. That you thought I was capable of hurting Melissa.”
She winced at the name, eyes glossy.
“But I slept on it,” I continued. “And I get it now. I really do.”
My hands rubbed soothing circles against her back, keeping us grounded in the quiet warmth of the firelight and the blanket-nest beneath us.
“You needed revenge,” I said. “You needed something to aim the pain at. And if you hadn’t gone looking… if you hadn’t let yourself fall into that dark place, we wouldn’t be here now. That was why Atlas twisted things. Why I didn’t say right away that I was innocent. You needed someone to blame, and I am okay with it being me.”
I looked around the room—the soft music, the pillows, the faint scent of lavender and citrus battling it out in the background—and back at her.
“If not for your plan, we would not be in this cabin. Hiding from monsters. Together.”
Her bottom lip trembled just enough to make my heart ache, but then she smiled. Just a little.
A real smile. The kind that broke past all the sharp edges.
I smiled back, brushing my nose against hers.
She kissed me again—slow and sweet, hips rocking with new purpose. Our bodies met in sync, not rushing for once. Like we were trying to memorize each other and the ghosts in the room had been put to rest for just one night, and we were choosing softness instead of survival.
It was sweeter than anything we’d done before. Sweeter than it had any right to be.
Because she didn’t crack a single joke. Not then, and not for the weeks that followed. We just existed… and I liked existing.
Being Giovanni was far better than being Reaper had ever been.
