Page 51 of The Reaper's Vice

I stareup at the raw wooden planks from my crawl space beneath Seraphina’s floorboards, twirling my dagger between my fingers as I contemplate the psychotic nature of my actions. I suppose it should be cause for concern—the lengths I’m willing to go to be close to her. To stalk her. To terrify her. Half of me wants to pull her close, to love and cherish every inch of her.But the other…

The other wants to hurt her. To make her pay for making me fall this way. For fucking up my head, weaving into the thread of my existence, linking every single wretched thought toher.

It’s driving me mad. Madder than I’ve ever been before.

Shoving the knife back into its sheath, I rip my phone from my pocket and bring up the feed to Seraphina’s bedroom. For once, her body doesn’t convulse with terrible dreams—the product of the heavy sedative still coursing through her system.

Her dagger is clenched tight in her fist, and I can’t help but chuckle as I remember how close she came to slitting my throat with the thing. If I wasn’t prepared, she would have killed me for sure—but I know how dangerous the little dove is—and that alone is how I was able to escape her apartment.

Luckily, the entrance to the crawl space is hidden at the back of a locked maintenance closet—the remnants of a crevice workers used to utilize in order to tend to the ancient copper pipes winding throughout the walls in the building—so I was still able to enter her apartment after ‘Officer’ Orion left.

After a few minutes of watching the feed, I’ve had enough of hiding under her floors like a creep. I shove my phone in my pocket and press my gloved palms to the ceiling, gritting my teeth when the small hatch doesn’t immediately give way.

Fighting a curse, I flex my back muscles, putting everything I have into getting the damn hatch open. Eventually, the square of floor lifts away, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I carefully slide it out of the way. The cutout is just large enough for me to squeeze my shoulders through, though getting the lower half of my body out takes some skill due to the cramped conditions of Seraphina’s closet.

Immediately, I’m enveloped in heavenly notes of caramel, vanilla, and something nutty—like pistachio. It’s intoxicating, pure Seraphina, and before long, my cock responds to the stimuli.

Gritting my teeth against the friction, I push the closet door wide and step to the foot of her bed, my vision swimming as the strength of her scent grows.

Seraphina’s mouth is slightly parted, lips twitching as small snores explode into the silence. She shifts to her back, and her tank top gets caught beneath her, causing her breasts to pop free of the material.

My breath catches in my chest as I stare down at her perfect, perky tits. The cool air shivers over her skin, causing her nipples to harden to rounded peaks, and my mouth waters at the thought of taking them into my mouth, licking and sucking her until she’s mad with desire and whispering depraved things in my ear.

Unwittingly, my hand trails to my zipper, freeing my cock. It springs from the confines, a pearl of pre-cum sliding from the tip of the silver ring at the tip as my fantasies turn darker. I jerk my palm down the throbbing length, my eyes rolling back as thoughts of Seraphina fill my mind.

Her lips around my cock, her pussy spread wide and dripping with need for me and me alone. I imagine the way her eyes will roll back the first time I split her open, how she’ll scream for me as I carve more of my marks into her skin. I picture her wanting me just as desperately as I want her, and it nearly causes my undoing.

I’m sick. I’m deranged. I’m obsessed with her in ways a person never should be.

Hissing through my teeth, I rip my hand from my cock, destroying my orgasm. Just as Seraphina belongs to me, I belong to her—allof me. Meaning, I won’t be wasting a drop of cum unless it's on or in her.

My mind fractures, and suddenly I’m standing by her head, the head of my cock pressed against her lips. With a groan, I rub it across the two plush pillows, nearly cumming when my cock ring slips between her lips. Fast asleep, Seraphina puckers, giving that small silver ring the gentlest of kisses, and it takes everything in me not to press inside her mouth.

Not now. Soon, though. Very soon.

A fluttering of wings brings my attention to her window, surprised to find Baccus perched on the windowsill, his beady eyes dark and judging. He taps his pointed beak against the glass, the sound of it growing louder with each persistent smack. Snarling, I pull my cock from her and zip it back into my pants, using every last ounce of restraint I have to climb back to the secret hatch in her closet and out the crawlspace.

When I’m back out on the street, I pull up my video feed, my eyes locked on Seraphina’s sleeping form. Bacchus crows from above, circling twice above my head before landing on my shoulder. He nips at my ear fondly, and some of my irritation seeps away as I reach up, stretching him behind the neck.

“I forgive you, you bastard,” I grumble, despite the smirk pulling at my mouth. After all, it was probably a good thing Bacchus interrupted—who knows what would have happened if I kept going the way I was. It’s a dangerous game I’m playing, but it’s one I have no intention of losing.

Seraphina will be mine, one way or the other. Whether she knows it, or not, her life, her soul belongs to me—to the reaper she’s made me into.

I exit the video feed of her room, pulling up the gangbang video I’ve been watching on repeat for the past few days. Just as it always does, I’m filled with a blazing fury—a flame that burns so hot, it consumes my very bones, eats away at all my carefully constructed control and leaves me with nothing but bloodlust.

Without thinking, I hop into my truck and speed off into the night. Right in the direction of Eli Stark's house. It may be stupid, and it may be reckless, but there’s only one thing that really matters.

Making Eli pay for touching my little dove.

23

SERAPHINA

“BEING THAT HOT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL”

When I wake,I’m still shaken from the encounter with the masked man. I know I’ll be unable to put on a brave face for Maggie, so instead, I slip out of the apartment before she wakes, my mind on a massive vanilla latte from the shop around the corner.

My mind is a mess of memories and fragmented dreams as I stumble into the coffee shop. I’m so lost in my own head, I don’t notice when I run smack dab into the back of a tall, muscular man.

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