Page 18 of Reaper's Desire

I slide one hand between my legs, my fingers finding my clit, and the added stimulation is almost too much. I'm so sensitive, so overwhelmed, but I keep rubbing, keep chasing that pleasure. I want more, I want everything he can give me.

"That's it," he groans. "Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

I'm close again, so close, and when he leans down and bites the back of my neck, I shatter. The orgasm tears through me, more intense than the others, and I scream into the pillow, my body convulsing.

He pulls out again, flipping me onto my back, and I barely have time to catch my breath before he's inside me again. "I want to see your face when you come," he mutters, his eyes locked on mine.

He fucks me hard and fast, his hands gripping my thighs, spreading me wider, and I can feel another orgasm building already. It's too much, too intense, but I can't stop it. I arch my back as his thumb finds my clit, rolling hard against it, driving me into another orgasm that's almost too much. His jaw is tense,his abdomen flexing as he drives into me again, and then I feel him throbbing as he comes a second time.

He pulls out of me, rips off the condom, and rolls onto his back on the bed, yanking me astride his face. "Ride my face until I get hard again," he growls, his fingers sinking into my hips, and I obey. I can't stop myself any more than he can seem to stop, and how feral this man is for me is making me feel wild. I want more, for as long as he does.

I ride his tongue, rocking my hips against it, the orgasms turning long and pulsing as he pushes two fingers into me, thrusting shallowly as I grind against his tongue. The pleasure crests and falls in waves until he pulls his hand free, and I hear the rip of foil again before he picks me up and sets me on his thighs. He's hard again, thick and stiff against his abdomen, and he rolls the condom on.

"Ride my cock," he orders, yanking me over it, and I gasp, trembling as I line him up and sink down onto his cock.

The angle is different, deeper, and I moan as I start to move. He grips my hips, guiding my movements, and I throw my head back, lost in the sensation. I'm riding him hard, my breasts bouncing, my body slick with sweat, and I can feel him throbbing inside me. "Fuck," he groans, his hands moving to my breasts, pinching my nipples. "You're so fucking beautiful like this."

I'm close again, so close, and I can tell he is too, already. His breathing is ragged, his grip on my hips tightening, and when he thrusts up into me, hitting that perfect spot, I cry out.

"God, I can't believe you're going to make me fucking come again," he growls. "You're a fucking siren. Christ. What's your name?"

I stare at him, my movements stuttering, and his dark eyes meet mine.

"I want to know what to moan when I fucking come in you for the third fucking time," he growls, and I feel my back arch, pleasure racing through me at the raw need in his voice.

"What?" I gasp.

"Your name," he repeats, his eyes locked on mine. "Tell me your name."

I'd do anything he asked right now. The answer comes easily. "Isabelle," I moan, my body clenching around him. "My name is Isabelle. Isabelle Montague."

The moment the words leave my lips, everything changes.

His entire body goes rigid beneath me. One second, his hands are on my hips, dragging me down onto his cock again and again, and then suddenly they're around my throat—one hand braced on the back of my head as the other wraps around the front of my neck. I see something dark and horrified flash across his face even as his hips jerk up into me, still thrusting, and I have a sudden, insane, terrifying thought.

He's going to kill me.

His grip tightens, cutting off my air, and panic floods through me. My hands fly to his wrists, trying to pull them away, but he's too strong.

What the fuck is happening?

ButGod, it feels good. His face is tight with lust and that shocked expression that makes no fucking sense, as if heknowsme, as if he can't believe he's fuckingme, but I've never met him before. That thought is tangled up with everything else, the slam of his cock into me as if his body is working separately from his mind, and the pressure of his hands on my throat is about to send me into orbit. I've never been choked before, butfuck, I think I fucking like it…

I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't do anything except stare into his eyes and see something that looks like horror and rage and shock… and then, as my head swims and his hands tightenfurther, I feel my entire body tighten as my arousal spikes beyond the point of no return. Despite the fear, despite the confusion, despite the fact that his hands are around my throat—andbecause of it—my pussy clenches around him, and I see his eyes widen, his expression shifting from horror to something else.

Something primal.

His grip doesn't loosen, still on the verge of making me pass out, but suddenly he's

thrusting up into me, harder than before. He's staring at me wildly, as if he doesn't know what he's doing, his thumb pressing into my windpipe as the orgasm crashes through me. He groans, a guttural sound that sends shivers down my spine, and I feel him come, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me.

And then just as fast as we both came, he's pulling out and ripping the condom off, pushing me off him, and grabbing his clothes from the floor.

"Wait—" I start, but he's already pulling on his pants, his movements jerky and frantic. He doesn't look at me. Doesn't say a word. Just grabs his shirt and his shoes and heads for the door.

"Wait!" I call out again, sitting up, my heart pounding. "What—what just happened?"

But he's gone. The door slams shut behind him, and I'm left sitting on the bed, naked and confused and still trembling.