Page 14 of Queen of The Reapers
“Where are they?” I start, then almost immediately regret my question as soon as I see the hint of amusement in his blue eyes.
“Hmm.” He murmurs, his deep voice sinking into my bones. “Theyhave some business to attend to, though I doubt they’d keep such a lovely creature waiting long.”
Despite his calm demeanor, something about his choice of words sets off warning bells in my head. Suddenly, I’m very aware of the fact that he and I are alone in this house and the only fabric covering my body is a thin white Aerosmith T-shirt.
“Oh, that’s right.” I say, dramatically slapping my forehead for emphasis. “Tristan mentioned he may have to work tonight. Thanks for opening the door, but I better get back to bed. He’d be so angry if I wandered off somewhere.”
Tristan mentioned nothing to me, but I can spot a predator when I see one. And the way his blue eyes follow my every move terrifies me. My best bet is to play up the ditzy girl act and hope he doesn’t see right through my bullshit. Tristan left me locked in here for a reason and I’m willing to bet that this asshole was it.
“Are you sure, Kroshka?” He asks, cocking his head with a strange glimmer in his blue eyes. “You seemed eager to escape only moments ago. Why the sudden change of heart?”
The swift change in his tone is jarring. One minute his voice is smooth, soothing even, but he coats the last question in ice. I try to remain calm, but there’s an undeniable threat behind his words and panic settles in.
“It’s okay, really.” I say, flashing him a smile I don’t feel as I move towards the door. “I just met him and I’d hate for him to think I was so dramatic the second he left. Could this just stay our little secret?”
Pretending I’m insignificant to Tristan is purely instinctive. Something about the way Dimitri stares tells me he is a very calculated man. It’s no accident that he’s here alone with me. He was snooping around the house because he knew no one would be here. Probably planned for it. He thought he was alone and now he’s trying to figure out what he should do with me. My best bet is to pretend like I’m an insignificant dot on his radar. “That’s disappointing.” He muses, slowly advancing towards me. “You didn’t strike me as a liar, Stevie Alexander. But I suppose looks can be very deceiving.”
I rear back and look at him, completely puzzled.How the hell does he know I’m lying? And more importantly, how does he know my name?
“You should leave.” I snap, forgoing the naïve act altogether. “Before you do something stupid.”
He stares daggers at me as he moves towards the exit. Inch by inch, I feel myself reluctantly shrink beneath his gaze. He’s just one man and I’ve faced much worse before, but his presence alone is terrifying.
Just before reaching the threshold, he pauses and leans into me. “I can smell your fear, Kroshka. Tell me, which is it that scares you most? That I’m still here, or that deep down, something within you doesn’t want me to leave?”
Before I can do anything to stop him, he whips around, grabs me by my waist and slams my body against the door, shutting it closed in one swift motion. The shock of what he’s doing and the sheer power behind his force muddles my mind, leaving me frozen in fear as he continues to speak.
“Don’t be shy.” He coaxes, pressing his hard cock into my stomach. “See? The feeling is very mutual. Look at what those deceitful lips have done to me and they aren't even wrapped around my cock yet.”
His vulgar words shake me out of my stupor and my hand whips across his face and slaps his cheek with a loud crack.
“Get the fuck off of me.” I hiss, trying to shove his large body away.
But Dimitri doesn’t budge, and his smile only grows wider.
“We both know that’s the last thing you want.” He grins, gathering my wrists in one large hand while his free hand travels down my body.
I try to wiggle and jerk out of his hold, but the more I struggle, the wider his vicious smile grows. I spit and I kick and I stomp and I knee, but fighting him only seems to make him crush my wrists harder.
I try to wiggle and jerk out of his hold, but the more I struggle, the wider his vicious smile grows. I spit and I kick and I stomp and I knee, but fighting him only seems to make him crush my wrists harder.
The second I feel a thick finger slip in between my legs, I want to cry. Not because of the violation, but because of the cocky smirk that spreads across his face the minute he touches the wetness seeping out of me.
“That’s more like it.” He coaxes, grazing his thumb against my sensitive clit as he slides another thick finger inside of me.
Despite hating every second of what he’s doing, my treacherous body writhes under his touch and he watches with cruel amusement at the involuntary reactions I’m trying desperately to fight.
You feel nothing. You feel nothing.
The sadistic gleam in his eyes terrifies me. This isn’t about my satisfaction. This is about proving a point. To who, I’m not sure. As far as he knows, I’m The Reapers’ girl, which means he knows how much shit he’ll be in when they find out. The asshole is either suicidal, or he has some insane ulterior motive.
I block out every spasm and jolt his vile fingers pull out of me until a hate filled orgasm rips through me. He relentlessly rubs my over-sensitized nub, but I refuse to show it on my face, even as wetness seeps down my leg and involuntary tears stream down my cheeks.
It isn’t until I feel his movements slow down that I know it’s over. He got what he wanted. He didn’t rape me, but with how disgusting I feel, he may as well have.
“All better?” He asks, smirking as he removes his fingers from my slick center and finally releases my wrists.
“Fuck you.” I hiss, my voice coated in venom.
