Page 28 of Reaper

“I need to hurt you.”

“Nico, I’m sorry,” I whimper as the tears spring to my eyes. Not so much from the stinging in my head, but because, other than murder, I don’t really know what he’s capable of. I don’t want to find out.

Rising off the couch, he leans down and lifts me over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs. I don’t want to get blood on the sofa.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

REAPER

I have two hours before Psycho gets here to have her ready, but drugging her now would be too easy. I need to hear her scream and she will, but I don’t want to risk her not remembering what’s about to happen.

Setting her on her feet, I order her, “Face down on the bed.”

“Nico, please.”

Shaking my head, I tell her, “Do as you’re told. This is going to be bad enough for you, don’t make it worse than it has to be.”

Pulling her fist back, she punches me in the face, and I let her. I fucking love it when she fights me. I grin, which only makes her angrier as she looks to the door. Silly living dead girl should be more careful about giving away physical cues. As she attempts to dart past me, I grab her throat, stopping her in her tracks.

She stands in front of me, with tears streaming down her face, and it should probably make me change my mind about what I’m going to do to her. I should feel bad. Yet, I don’t. I’m as fucked up as everybody says, just like she reminded me of tonight.

I point to the bed, and she turns with a huff and does what she’s told. Removing my pants, I grab the knife from my sheath, before spreading her legs and climbing between them. Bella trembles with delicious fear, as her sobs grow louder in the otherwise quiet room. I pull her t-shirt up to the middle of her back, exposing her beautiful ass, and a groan slips out of me. I drag the tip of the knife over her ass, not cutting into her skin, but the way she cries, you would think I’m butchering her.

“You can love me or you can hate me, living dead girl. It makes no fucking difference to me. But you are mine. Mine to fuck and mine to torture. Think what you want of me, but you won’t dare tospeak to me with the disrespect you had for me earlier. I don’t want to cut your tongue out, but I will.”

“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stammers pathetically.

Pressing one hand on her back, I hold her down, because she’s going to fight, or at least try to.

I dig the knife into her ass, carving my first initial.

“N,” I say out loud, while she screams obscenities at me.

“You fucking psychotic asshole.”

I chuckle as I start the next letter. Making the cut, I say, “I,” as the blood runs down her ass. Then I move to the other cheek, and cut into her stunning flesh.

“C,” I say, as she screams so loud that if I had neighbors, I might be worried.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

One last time, I slice into her skin.

“O,” I say, as I watch the way her flesh turns red from her blood. I toss the knife onto the side of the bed, lean down and taste her, the way I’ve always wanted to. Knives aren’t my favorite. This is a trick directly from Psycho’s book, but it works for me, so I did it.

“Your blood tastes almost as good as your pussy.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She shouts.

Pushing her shirt further up her back, I rub the blood all over her exposed skin, and slam inside her.

“Because I can, Bella. I can do whatever I want to you, and there isn’t a fucking thing you can do about it. Cry as much as you want, it has no effect on me. Run, and I’ll find you. I’ve told you before, you have no power here.”

She sobs while I fuck her sweet pussy. Every thrust makes her cry louder, but it doesn’t deter me. I wasn’t going to do this to her. As much as I wanted to, I tried to hold my urges back, but then she did what they all do. She judged me and I knew she needed to be punished. I’ve marked her permanently, and no matter what she does, she’s mine.

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