Page 19 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter seventeen

Mavik

I zoom in on the camera feed until I see an up-close shot of Peyton’s face from his bedroom.

My three computer screens show distinct feeds from the concealed cameras in his apartment.

I like to hide them in mundane objects he would never blink twice at.

His bedroom is, of course, my main focus, which I monitor from four different angles, including an aerial view of his bed from the lamp in his ceiling fan.

Every camera feed flickers on and records either when it detects motion or when I program it to.

The recordings are stored on my private network that only Hunter and I have access to—the same secure network that stores recordings of all our kills.

Our network is undetectable because the signals are constantly routed through several countries, never settling on one server.

He’s so beautiful. Frustration is etched across his features, and I’m pretty sure I put it there thanks to the avoidance tactics I used during our workday.

For the past two hours, Peyton has been occupied with carving something that resembles a rabbit, ultimately forgetting to eat dinner. The damn boy needs a keeper.

The rest of our workday sped by as I avoided Peyton and prepared for my meeting with Daniel Sinclair tomorrow.

There’s a good chance the old fart might not even show up, but I have to hope for the best. I never would have guessed that the man I wanted to kill most from my list would be the hardest to get to.

Assuming the asshole shows up tomorrow, I’m going to have to present him with a business opportunity he could never pass on.

Something to dangle in front of his face long enough to get multiple meetings and opportunities to take him down.

He’s the last fucking person on my kill list. The final person I need to complete my revenge.

Peyton tugs his shirt over his head and haphazardly tosses it in the hamper I know he keeps hidden in his closet.

What would it be like to marry Peyton? To wake up every day with him trapped in my arms. Unable to escape.

Naked, like a sacrifice waiting to be marked.

I meant what I said; things are complicated.

I’ve convinced myself over the years that Peyton was off limits, that he’d be the pretty little obsession I can satiate through hidden security cameras, social media accounts, and glass windows.

I can’t let Peyton distract me from my goal. Not when I’m so close. But the reality is, I need to marry someone if I want to keep my company. Who better than the only man I’ve ever wanted to possess?

Peyton walks over to the edge of his bed and turns on his lamp on the nightstand. He eyes his drawer for a moment, causing me to sit up straighter. “Looks like someone is really frustrated tonight.” I smirk when Peyton pulls out his favorite blue dildo and bottle of lube.

My pants feel tight as my cock grows hard. Peyton continues stripping by kicking off his shoes and tugging off his socks. His pants are next until he’s in nothing but a pair of black silk panties. The coral ones are my favorite, but these are just as sexy.

He crawls onto the bed, not bothering with the light.

Peyton just leaves it on, almost as if he wants me to see.

I growl low in my throat when he closes his eyes, starts to tease his pretty pink nipples, and writhes on the bed.

The moan that tumbles from his mouth is sexy as hell.

Damn. Does he really moan that loud in bed?

“Fuck, that’s it, boy. Show me what you like,” I say to the image of Peyton on my screen.

“So damn responsive.” He’s done nothing but play with his nipples, tugging on them and thrusting his silk-covered dick into the air.

Finally, his fingers trail down his sides until they rest on the waistband.

Slowly, he pulls the panties down his thighs until he’s able to slip one slim ankle out of the material.

His left ankle is still wrapped in silk when he blindly reaches for his dildo and lube.

He’s messy when he pours some lube onto the silicone cock, letting the liquid drip onto his chest. Fuck. I want to mark all that porcelain skin. Replace that silky liquid with my cum and smear it onto his chest.

I unzip my pants and fish out my hard cock, happy when I realize the dildo appears to be almost as big as me. He barely preps himself with his fingers before placing the tip at his hole. When he pushes it inside, his mouth drops open into a silent moan.

“Good boy. That just means you’ll be able to take my fat cock someday.”

Every gasp, every whimper, and every sigh become louder when I turn up the volume.

He moans in sync with each time the dildo sinks deeper inside; in and out until he builds a perfect rhythm that causes his toes to curl.

I stroke my cock in time with his thrusts, imagining it’s me pounding that tight little hole.

“That’s it, boy, fuck yourself faster,” I say, as I mirror his movements, stroking myself even faster.

“Mavik,” he whimpers, causing precum to gush from my tip. Hearing my name on his lips has me hurtling toward the edge.

His heels dig into his mattress before his hips lift, allowing the dildo to sink in deeper. My cock throbs as I analyze the other monitors, watching him fuck his dildo from various angles before returning to the aerial view.

Peyton’s body trembles. He’s right on the edge, too.

His eyes blink open, and holy fuck, I swear he looks right at the camera in his ceiling fan as he uses his free hand to stroke himself.

“That’s it, Daddy. Fuck me harder. I love the way you look in that mask,” he says, tipping over the edge and spraying his chest with cum.

I groan, my whole body locking up. I come hard to images of me fucking my boy’s tight hole with my mask on.

The next morning, I’m straightening my files and getting ready to make my way to the boardroom for my meeting with Daniel Sinclair.

Ten more minutes. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen my father’s closest friend in person.

A zing of energy that I usually only get right before a kill rushes through my body.

Considering his assistant hasn’t called, and the world hasn’t exploded yet, I’m going to assume this meeting is finally going to happen.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out.

Peyton: The boardroom is ready, sir.

I asked Peyton to go all out. I want to woo the fuck out of this asshole.

I don’t think he suspects that I’m the man eliminating his inner circle, one leech at a time, but he’s been so damn hard to get ahold of.

I want him to feel like a fucking king long enough to let his guard down around me.

I grin. Fucking finally. The last man on the list. I’m almost finished.

That happy buzz is still vibrating through my body when I type out a reply.

Mavik: Good boy.

Whistling, I can’t even be bothered by the fact that I said something wildly inappropriate to my assistant. But screw it, watching him fuck himself on a dildo isn’t very professional either. I’ve seen Peyton’s private search history. I know what my kinky little assistant is into.

There’s a light knock on my door. Peyton is standing there, cheeks flushed either from embarrassment or arousal, probably both.

“I don’t understand why you’d bother to pull out all the fancy drinks and food for this man.

He’s canceled numerous meetings with us throughout the years.

Is his business really that important? Because it seems like we’ve been just fine without him.

In fact, he has a very questionable reputation.

It’s probably better that we don’t do business with him. ”

“You did your research on the man.” Warmth fills my chest, mixed with a sense of pride.

This. This is why Peyton is so damn invaluable.

He’s not just another mindless employee taking orders and doing what they’re told.

He’s loyal. Always researching future and potential clients.

And he isn’t afraid to give me his opinion, even if he thinks we’ll disagree.

“Of course, I did.”

Feeling confident, I walk by Peyton and casually brush my body against his as I act like I’m squeezing through the door. That slight intake of breath is intoxicating.

I check my watch. “You have five minutes before he’s supposed to arrive. If you want to hit the restroom before the meeting, you’d better do it now.”

Peyton nods. “I’ll be there in a moment. I’m going to doll up my coffee in the breakroom,” he says before pausing. “Do you think it’s odd that Mr. Sinclair asked that I be there too?”

“A little, but he’ll probably have his assistant, Peggy, with him too.”

“Oh, joy,” he says sarcastically.

I chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry about it.” The truth is, some potential clients and investors do all kinds of things to test the employees. I don’t really care what kind of trick Mr. Sinclair has up his sleeve; I know Peyton can handle himself. I’m here to get intel on Daniel.

I walk into the boardroom and then freeze. Daniel Sinclair isn’t the man standing at the head of the table. Someone else is. He’s significantly younger, maybe closer to Peyton’s age. His back is facing me. The stranger is in a flashy, tailored suit that screams money. This isn’t a mere assistant.

I clear my throat.

Mr. Flashy turns around slowly, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. As soon as he sees me, he smirks and swaggers toward me, hand extended. “Mavik,” he greets, tone dripping with cockiness.

I allow my mask to fall into place as I hide my anger. Instead, I let confusion show on my face as I reach for his hand and shake it. “Have we met before?”

“We have, yes, when we were younger. Drake. Drake Sinclair.”