Page 24 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter twenty-one

Mavik

“ W ill we have safe words?” he asks suddenly, swaying his hips to the sensual music. He’s still wearing the sparkling blue tux pants, but he ditched the jacket and dress shirt and stripped down to the tank underneath.

I practically choke on my drink. “Say what now?”

Peyton laughs as he confidently takes my glass of whiskey and brings it to his lips. The lights of Club Veriz sparkle brightly around us. We are in the VIP section of the club at a private table. Off in the distance, my mother is dancing with Iris and Hunter.

I pluck the drink from my very tipsy husband’s hand and pull him into my lap. “What are you talking about?” Peyton sways. Okay, maybe my little assistant is more than just tipsy.

“You know, safe words and limits.”

Fucking hell, we haven’t even kissed yet, and the boy wants to talk about safe words. I swipe the pad of my thumb over Peyton’s lips. “Are you talking about kinks, husband?”

God, husband. I think I can get used to that word.

Peyton nods eagerly. “Why don’t I say a kink or fantasy, then you tell me one?”

I chuckle, continuing to trace his tantalizing bottom lip. “Just how many kinks are you into, sweet Pey?”

“Do I have to have a limit?” Mischief sparkles in his eyes. “I like the idea of somnophilia.”

My cock jerks in my pants, and my fingers dig into his hips, holding him in place. “Giving or receiving?” I ask in a rough voice.

“Both.” He tries to wiggle in my lap, drawing attention to the press of his round ass against my hard length. The little brat is doing it on purpose. “Wouldn’t it be hot to wake up to someone pleasuring you?” he wonders, innocently batting his lashes.

Millions of images flood my mind at once: me taking him; him pleasuring me; me covering his mouth and sliding into his lubed-up hole while he sleeps; Peyton wanting me so badly he can’t wait till I wake up.

“Fuck. There’d be nothing hotter than waking up to your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock, Pey. ”

He blinks. “ Fuuuck ,” he whispers.

I pull him tighter against me, guiding his ass to press harder against my erection. “What else?” I whisper into his ear. The club music plays loudly around us, and I can’t entirely be sure he even heard me, but he shivers at the sensation.

“Aren’t we supposed to be taking turns?”

“What else, Pey? Tell me what else you’re into,” I command. I slide my hand under his tank top and skim his skin with my fingertips. If the little tease is going to get me hard in a dance club, then I’m going to return the favor.

“I like the idea of you dominating me, manhandling me, being so turned on that you can’t do anything but take me frantically, nearly feral. I like the idea of primal play. The chase,” he moans wantonly. “To have you just shoving yourself inside me, unable to stop yourself.”

“You like it rough,” I growl low in my throat, guiding Peyton’s hips so that he’s practically giving me an erotically charged lap dance right here at our table.

Peyton laughs. “Do you like that, Daddy?”

I freeze, heart pounding. “Are you saying you’re into Daddy kink too?”

Peyton nods. “Yes.”

“What does the kink mean to you?”

“I mean, it’s hot to call someone Daddy in bed, but it’s more than that for me.” A flush spreads across his face.

“Go on,” I encourage.

He takes a deep breath. “Whether I call someone Daddy, or Sir, or something else entirely, I want to find the person who yearns to take care of me. Protect me. Keep me safe while he makes sure I do basic things like eat, sleep, or even play. It’s hard to explain,” he sighs.

“I’m an adult, and of course I can do these things on my own.

I like to be independent and useful while I’m at work.

But that’s because I know what I’m doing when I’m there.

I have a purpose. At home, I just want to turn off my brain and trust someone enough to let me… submit.”

The thudding beat of my heart is so loud, I can’t hear the music around us. All I can see is Peyton. The only thing I can feel is him in my lap. A dream. “That’s beautiful. Thank you for telling me.” I want to lean in and kiss him.

He shrugs, staring off in the distance. “I just want to find my person. The person I would do anything for, and he would do anything for me. Someone to call mine.”

Suddenly, Iris appears by our side and tugs at Peyton’s hand. I almost snarl at her like a predator who’s finally getting what he desperately wants for the first time.

Instead, I lean back in my seat and sip my whiskey.

My CEO mask falls back into place as I watch my assistant join our friends on the dance floor.

Peyton sways his hips, his head thrown back, arms in the air.

Fuck. I’d do anything for this man. His words replay in my head.

I already do all those things. I protect him, keep him safe, kill for him.

I want to do more. I want to be his. Need it.

I slide out of my seat, ready to join my boy on the dance floor, when my phone vibrates in my pants.

Daniel Sinclair’s name pops up on my caller ID. What the fuck?

“Daniel,” I say cheerily into the phone. “Give me a moment to get somewhere I can hear you.” I walk into the restroom, where the music is muffled.

“Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem, son. I heard congratulations are in order.”

I still. Congratulations? How did he know?

“Why yes, sir, but how did you know?” My heart is pounding in my ears again, and the hand that isn’t clutching my phone with a death grip is flexing into a fist.

“I heard you got married tonight. Is that not true?”

I grit my teeth. It’s not like we kept it a secret; everyone in my building knows, but still.

Years of dodging me, and now he calls out of the blue to congratulate me?

Understanding slams into me. He must really like the proposal.

I chuckle. Of course, he has to. It’s a fake, bullshit proposal that makes it look like I’m giving him forty percent of my stock and making him a partner.

I’m about to bring up the said proposal when he speaks up first.

“Have you heard from Carl Reilly?”

Ah. Yes. Shit-for-brains Carl. He was chopped up and disposed of. “No, sir. Not for a while now.”

“Please just call me Daniel. I was your father’s best friend, after all. We’re practically family.”

“Right, of course, Daniel,” I manage, anger still boiling in my veins.

“Speaking of family, how is Sophia?”

White-hot fury thrums through me. You piece of fucking shit.

Get my mother’s name out of your fucking mouth.

Memories of the horrid things I saw him do to her pop into my head.

He was the worst. My poor mom. The bruises, the fear, and the tears.

The hopelessness on her face. It took fucking years—y ears —for her to smile again!

Rage. It’s all I can see. My heart is pounding, and my nails are digging crescent moon shapes into my palm, cutting so deep I hope I bleed. I place Daniel on mute and scream into the phone. I scream and scream, roaring out my rage.

“You know, the cops called. Rian Burns and Tate O’Malley are missing. Not to mention, Andrew Faletti, Jacob Larsson, and Tony Russo were all found dead. Someone is targeting us. Targeting my inner circle. It started with your father. You might want to lie low as well.”

There’s something in the way he says it. It’s like he knows or suspects. Maybe it’s paranoia, but I think he’s either figured it out or he’s digging for answers. I need to tell Hunter.

I unmute the phone. “I can take care of myself, Daniel. If the fucker who killed my father comes after me, I’ll be ready,” I lie. “Now, I’d better get back to my husband. Thank you for the warning. Don’t forget to look at the proposal I sent home with Drake.”

Daniel chuckles. “Of course, son.”

My nails dig back into those cuts. Son. That fucking word. The word my father used to threaten me with.

“Oh, and Mavik? Tell your pretty mother I miss her.” He ends the call. My whole body vibrates with unleashed fury. He knows. He must.

Daniel Sinclair is going to die a slow, painful death.

It takes me about fifteen minutes to gather my composure enough to leave the restroom. Hunter is still on the floor, dancing with my mom, Iris, and Peyton. It all looks very platonic, which is good. With all the anger coursing through my veins, I can’t afford to kill my best friend.

As if sensing me, Hunter looks up, and I wave him over. “What’s up?” he asks as soon as he’s by my side.

“I need you to take my mom out of the country. Keep her safe. Maybe take her to your villa in Italy.”

The cocky smirk slips from his face. “What’s going on?”

I tell him about my call from Daniel.

He nods. “I’ll make it seem like it’s a surprise. A wedding gift of sorts. A gift from you. While you go on your honeymoon, she gets to enjoy a trip of her own. I’ll tell her I have business in Italy and that we’ll stay at my place. I’ll watch over her, Mavik, I promise.”

I pull my friend into a grateful hug. “Thank you. Now, I’m going to bring my husband home and make sure he’s safe.”

He’s still dancing at the edge of the floor, eyes closed.

I walk right up to him. As if sensing me, Peyton blinks his pretty eyes open, his bright blue gaze immediately finding mine.

He smirks at me before sensually moving his hips to the music and closing the distance between us.

I wrap my arms around him as we begin dancing.

All the tension and anger leave my body until he’s nothing but my sole focus.

“If looks could kill,” he murmurs in my ear, running his fingers through my hair, nails scraping against my scalp.

I pull back and arch a curious brow, amused.

“Did I ever tell you how hot it is when you stare at me like that?” he asks.

“Like what?”

He waves his index finger in a circular motion in front of my face. “It’s like you’re either hungry or… murderous.” He cackles as soon as the words leave his pretty lips.

Murderous. Murderer.

My heart skips a beat. He sways to the left, and I have to catch him before he falls over. I know he only meant it as a joke, but that dark part of me revels in the ‘ what-if .’ What if he truly saw me? What if he accepted me? All of me. I shake my head, shoving those thoughts away.

“You’re drunk,” I state, and he giggles.

Fuck . This is exactly why I kept Peyton at a distance all these years.

No one knows me better than this man. It only took him a month to have Mavik Blackwood, CEO, all figured out.

But how long would it take for him to discover Mavik Blackwood, serial killer?

How long would it take for him to discover the darker side of me I’ve kept hidden from the world?

Probably not long at all, if I’m being honest. Peyton is smart. There’s a reason I didn’t show Peyton any other part of my personal life. How would Peyton react if he ever found out he’d married a serial killer?

A waitress walks by the edge of the dance floor. Peyton tries to take another shot, but I place it back down on the tray. “That’s enough, little light. Let’s go home.”

He smiles up at me sloppily. He’s an adorable drunk.

Once I get him to my place, I bring him to the bathroom, help him brush his teeth, undress, and help him into my loose dress shirt so he can sleep. And when he’s in bed, blinking up at me slowly, I tuck him in, tenderly kissing his forehead.

His words from earlier replay in my head. I just want to find my person…someone to call mine.

“I could be yours.” If you’d let me. If you would accept me.