Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I brush my hand over her hair. It’s a wild mass of dark waves and I can imagine what she’d look like on her hands and knees before me, all that wild hair in my fist tugging back her head as I take her from behind.
I’d let her come even after this transgression. Not for her pleasure, but for mine. For me to see her face when her body betrays her.
I wonder how she’d look at me then. After coming on my dick.
Careful. Not yet. Don’t lose control.
“Moth,” I say.
“Reaper,” she responds.
I raise my eyebrows.
She gestures toward my chest. “It’s what they call you. The Grim Reaper. Bringer of death.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know what you are. What your family is.”
“Same as yours.”
“Not the same.”
“Yet you’re not afraid to attack me.”
“I already told you that I’m not going to play good little victim. I will never be that.”
“Been that before?” I ask, gesturing with a glance to her hand.
She narrows her eyes. “No,” she denies. “Now take me down from here.”
I snort, walk to the table against the wall where I keep a bottle of whiskey. It’s where Enzo left the letter opener. I pick it up, study it. It was stupid not to check the desk before putting her in there, but no one uses that room, so I guess the soldier didn’t think to. I’m lucky the thing was small, but fuck it was sharp. I tuck it into my back pocket and pour myself a glass of whiskey. Capping the bottle, I take the glass back over to her and offer her a sip.
She turns her head away, but licks her lips. She’s thirsty, but she’s also stubborn. I sip my drink and look her over. Her blouse is torn, hanging open, beneath I can see a black lace bra. Pants are intact. She’s up on tip toe and her toes peeking out from beneath the wide pant legs are painted a deep purple.
“My arms hurt. Take me down.”
“What happened to your finger?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m curious all the same.”
“Well, too bad for you. Take me down.”
I snort, meet her eyes. Amber. A shade of fire. I knew she’d be like this, didn’t I? From the moment I laid eyes on her in her father’s study. “How should I punish you, Moth?”
Her expression changes then. She’s trying to hide her fear.
“Tell me. Should I beat you?”
“You would, wouldn’t you? Was that all talk when you broke my brother’s wrist for hurting me? Hypocritical, don’t you think?”
I swallow my drink, study her. “Maybe I should take another finger?”
She freezes, no comeback. I set the glass aside and move close enough to reach behind her. I cup her skull before gripping a handful of that thick hair and tugging.
She grunts, but doesn’t ask me to release her. She won’t give me the satisfaction.
“How old are you now? Nineteen, twenty?”
“Twenty.”
“Well, you’re young and I’m sure daddy kept you shielded, living in a bubble.”
“You don’t get to talk about my father.”
“I get to talk about whoever I want. I’m going to give you some advice—”
“Save it.”
“Be careful. My patience only goes so far, Allegra.”
“Allegra? Not Moth?”
“I’m getting bored of this game. You’re owed a punishment. And I always pay what I owe. So, take care with that smart mouth of yours,” I look down at that pretty, albeit big, mouth. I drag my gaze back to hers. “There are many wonderful ways to use it, and it would be a shame to have to cut out your tongue.”
Her breath trembles, her eyes betraying her yet again. I release my hold on her hair.
“What? No comeback? No smartass comment?” I ask, stepping backward.
“Go to hell.”
“I’m already there, sweetheart.” I look her over. “Let’s get these off. See what I’m dealing with here.”
I reach into my back pocket to take out the letter opener. Her eyes grow wide, and she presses her back to the post, tensing her entire body as if readying herself for an attack. She’s not new to violence. Maybe her father didn’t keep her as sheltered and protected as I thought. I slide the flat of the blade carefully over her chest, down her belly. I don’t want to hurt her. The two remaining buttons pop.
She sucks in a sharp breath as if having expected pain. I’m curious about her reaction.
Next, I slip the sharp edge beneath one shirt sleeve, the expensive material easily coming apart, so I barely have to tug. I’m careful not to break skin as I do the same with the second sleeve and soon, the blouse is in tatters at her feet. Next come the pants. It’ll be a shame to ruin them. They’re nice. But I do all the same and moments later, she’s standing before me naked, but for a strapless bra and panties. Matching set. Pretty.