Page 4

Chapter Four

Asha

A stranger—or should I call him my savior?—took me to my apartment. He knew where I lived. But why? Why would he know? Then again, how could someone like him tear apart five men with his bare hands? None of what happened at the club made sense.

Maybe because this wasn’t real life. Maybe I was finally part of the nightmare I dreamed every night, living the moments I’d forgotten each morning. Maybe I’d wake up at three a.m. like I always did and remember nothing.

But why did his lips against mine feel so fucking real? Why was it that the second our mouths touched, I’d never been so turned on in all my life, or so desperate to get someone’s hands on my body?

His kiss felt right when everything about tonight was insanely wrong. I got the sense that I’d lose everything if I kept kissing him and let this thing between us go where it was clearly heading. Except, I didn’t care if I did, and maybe that was the most terrifying revelation of the night.

Sometime between leaving the alley and getting to my apartment, the blood that had drenched the gorgeous killer’s body had disappeared. Not one stain or red patch of evidence was left for my eyes to find. And it was just another nail in the it's-a-dream coffin.

My savior’s fingers caressed the arch of my neck, gliding down until they reached the place where my heart pounded. I sucked in a frantic breath as he tugged my shirt down and dropped his head so he could suck on the exposed mound of my breast popping out of lace. “You taste so sweet, little raven. Sweeter than I ever imagined.”

Little raven? Why does even that pet name feel right?

The stranger’s ghost-grey eyes lifted and connected with mine, and I swear they were glowing. Fuck, everything about him glowed even when I got the oddest sensation that he’d melt into the shadows if I looked away. Like this terrifying stranger was a goddamn phantom brought to life. Everything about him was dark despite shining like the moon in a starless sky. He beamed his own goddamn light.

His devilish tongue traced the line of lace cutting into my breast, leaving a wet, glistening path over my skin. I swallowed a moan, tensing, trying not to imagine the things he could do to me with that tongue of his. I’d never seen one so long. It could’ve been a snake’s tongue if I hadn’t known any better. The only thing missing was the fork in it, but the length wasn’t natural. I couldn’t help but wonder what something that long would feel like between my legs, penetrating me in a way no one’s ever had.

The sensation of his mouth worshipping the skin around my bra wreaked havoc on my pulse, and I couldn’t keep still. My hips moved and my stomach tensed, wading the storm of sensation he gave me without asking, effectively pinned under his massive form and under his control. But still, I didn’t want to escape. If anything, I hoped he’d take whatever he wanted. And I’d watch him do it. It was crazy, but I didn’t want to miss a goddamn second.

With both of his hands, he yanked my shirt apart. The sound of fabric tearing next to my racing heart were all I heard in the otherwise quiet room. Something came over me as the impossible stranger dragged and splayed his large, ring-covered hand down my front. Something carnal and full of dark desires. Something that hadn’t been there until he touched me.

His eyes took the same path as his hand as if he were mesmerized by the sight. As if he'd worship every inch with his gaze alone. I wasn’t naked, but I might as well have been with the way his glowing gaze ate me up. Every curve was delicious to him, especially the extra ones I’d gotten thanks to my terrible schedule and lack of training. He was a king claiming new land. Every part of me was now his to do whatever he wished.

And fuck, I loved everything about it.

No one had ever stared at me like Mr. Killer did. No one looked ready to destroy everything and anyone just to be with me. I couldn’t explain it, but every touch, every caress of his powerful grey-white gaze was possession personified. I should be scared—terrified, actually—but I wasn’t. He could kidnap me, hurt me, even kill me, but for some odd reason, I knew he wouldn’t. Somewhere deep inside of me, I was already his.

I’d been waiting my entire life for him.

My breath came faster, and I struggled to say something in this weird dream I was having. “What’s your name?” I asked in a soft whisper very unlike me.

The stranger dropped a kiss between my breasts and then flicked his gaze back up to mine. “Thanatos. But you can call me Than, little raven.”

Entranced, I watched his hand slide out of view. “Thanatos…are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

I didn’t expect him to chuckle, and when he did, I swore the shadows around us moved in reaction. I barely caught it out of the corner of my eye, but it happened. They’d shifted with him. All of them. Not just the ones his shape cast on the walls, but every single fucking shadow in the room. I couldn’t explain how I knew he was the entire reason they had. In this weird dream world the two of us shared, this devilishly handsome stranger controlled the shadows.

Maybe the night, too.

Instead of answering, Thanatos tossed his leather jacket over the side of the bed and dragged his skull shirt up his huge torso. His beautifully sculpted upper half tautened and reformed when he finally discarded his shirt next to the jacket already on the floor. His skin was beautifully brown even as it glowed cast in moonlight. The shadows clung to every strong contour. But it was his gaze that stole my attention more than the perfectly sculpted form that came into view. The ethereal beams never left mine the entire time he undressed.

I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.

The size of him doubled out of clothes. Every powerful cord and muscle expressed how deadly this man truly was. I’d spent years fantasizing about a guy capable of throwing me around. I never once thought someday I’d meet one who could. Okay, so he probably wasn’t real, and this was still technically a fantasy, but if I was going to lean into this dream—or whatever it was—then I might as well try out the things I never thought possible.

As I laid under him, I yearned to be wrapped inside those enormous arms and pinned down by that dangerous, oversized body. Despite looking like a terrifying monster stalking me in the dead of night, I wasn’t afraid of being eaten by him. No, if anything, I hoped he’d swallow me whole.

I fucking needed him to.

“Come here, Asha,” he beckoned with a penetrating stare and seductive smile.

When did I tell him my name?

If I was smart, I’d run. If I was smart, I’d get out before I discovered what hid behind that lethal smile of his. But I guess I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was.

Tonight, I was the perfect victim.

I moved before I realized, sitting up to be closer to him. To do whatever he bid me to do. Tilting his head, the gorgeous killer grabbed me around the throat with one of his impossibly large hands, his touch possessive but surprisingly gentle, and then he brought my mouth back to his. My lips parted to moan my dangerous savior’s name, but his tongue was quicker. It filled the space of my open mouth and smothered every sound I tried to make. I clung to his wrists, his steady pulse thrumming under my clammy palms.

So, he had a heart? And it pumped blood? It was odd to be surprised, but a part of me was convinced he was dead. Or a vampire. Or maybe even a demon. But I didn’t think for a fucking second he’d have a heartbeat or blood pumping through his veins. I thought for sure that whoever Thanatos was, he’d brought Hell with him and wouldn’t need to worry about pesky things like organs and life-sustaining blood.

So, what was he?

The killer growled, a thunderous vibration that echoed from his door-wide chest before his hand sunk between my quaking thighs and widened the hole my attackers made in my pantyhose. Whining into his kiss, I tried to close my legs, but something wrapped around my thighs and kept them open. I gasped again, my legs yanked farther apart by something I couldn’t see.

Thanatos’s fingers slid over the shamefully wet lace of my thong. Thrusting his tongue between my parted lips, his mouth devoured mine. He sneaked a couple fingers under the lace and teased my clit like he knew exactly what’d get me off most. My stomach contracted, and I bit down on his lower lip by accident.

And surprisingly, he bled.

I was startled when the coppery-tang hit my tongue. I hadn’t expected someone like him to bleed. If anything, I thought he’d have unbreakable skin. But probably most shocking was the overwhelming urge to drink him—to lap up every drop like it was my own personal drug of choice.

I licked the blood off his lips, savoring the taste, drunk on it. My head slowly fell back in a tipsy daze, affected by whatever witchcraft was in his blood.

Thanatos groaned, his hold on my jaw clenching. “Fuck. I never thought I’d love it so much when you finally bit back, but do it again. As much as you’d like. I want my blood inside you.” His eyes glinted, catching the moonlight. “Like my cock will be, little raven.”

His other hand slipped into my red hair and yanked my head farther back. I swallowed a moan, a hard throb hitting between my legs where his fingers still tormented me. I fought to stay off the edge. I was going to come if he rubbed any harder. The quake in my thighs and tension in my lower belly told me so. But worse than that, I was so thirsty. I yearned for the same thing he did.

Dark hair fell around Thanatos’s eyes, giving him a crazed look as he watched me—the willing prey who wanted nothing more than to be eaten. His jaw clenched and the cords along his neck strained. Wetting his lips, the killer’s white-hot gaze dropped back to my mouth. With another feral sound, the hand in my hair tightened, and his thumb rubbed my clit without mercy.

“Thanatos…” I moaned.

Biting my neck hard enough to get a gasp, he penetrated me with two of his fingers, scissoring them inside. My pussy clenched around them, fighting but desperate for it. Finally, he kissed me hard enough to suck the air out of my lungs, whispering against my lips, “Bite me, little raven.”

Scratching my nails down his back, I did exactly what I was told. I bit him. It was out of character for me, but I blamed the fact that this was all a dream. Come tomorrow and I’d unpack the fucked-up things I did here. But for now, I gave into the urge to do whatever he commanded.

I tasted his blood again, no longer hesitating. It was rich and delightful. Nothing like I’d expect. Nothing like real life. He tasted like sin, delicious and forbidden. My lower half throbbed and clenched harder around his fingers, and his satisfied growl was enough to make me brazenly fuck myself on his hand. After a second, his blood coated my throat, and I couldn’t help the sounds of feral need leaving my throat. I continued to drink it like I’d been thirsty forever.

Before I understood what was happening, I was on my back, arms tied up to the headboard by something I couldn’t see with his head between my legs. I stared down in shock, confused by the black wrapping around my thighs to keep them bent, open, and immobile. Looking up, the same darkness wrapped around my joined arms. I tested the feeling, unable to pull or move.

Am I being bound by…fucking shadows?

Again, I should be mortified. I’d been attacked only a short time ago, and here I was with some stranger who’d been the one to tear them apart, becoming his sexy plaything with barely two words exchanged between us. Bound by shadows, no less, and completely at his mercy. I should want to run for my life, to fear for my future with his head between my legs, but I didn’t. Not even a little bit. I wanted it, too. Call it the suspension bridge effect or temporary madness, but I was willing to sell my soul to the Devil just to have one night with him.

This is a dream.

It was the permission I needed to enjoy it, and when his tongue finally tasted where I was ridiculously wet for him, my head flew back and my chest pushed off the bed, surrendering the way I wanted to from the very beginning.

Because this was a fucking dream.