Page 27 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)
Chapter twenty-three
Mavik
I send Peyton a text letting him know I’ll be home late tonight. The fear mixed with the amount of relief on Peyton’s face as soon as he saw me at the café fucking lit me up inside. I’ll do anything to protect my boy.
Now, I’m wired as fuck. I don’t know whether this is pent-up energy from having Peyton grinding in my lap before marking me with his cum, if it’s that I was left hard and horny alone in my office, or if it’s because I need to kill the man I have tied up in front of me.
Drake Sinclair is one boring motherfucker.
I’ve been stalking him for a few weeks now, trying to find the perfect opportunity to take him.
Every evening after work, Drake leaves the company that good ol’ Daddy owns.
He eats dinner at various expensive restaurants, sometimes meeting with a friend, but almost always alone.
Before wandering over to an exclusive member-only strip club.
Every night, he picks up a new stripper, takes them home, and fucks them.
It wasn’t until tonight that he actually deviated from his routine.
Tonight, he took a pretty male stripper with curly blond hair home.
He looks similar enough to Peyton that I knew it wasn’t a coincidence.
He had sex with the stripper just as he did with all the rest. The whole thing was so boring and predictable that when Peyton texted me, I decided to head home.
I almost took off my mask and gloves and called it a night. That was until I heard the scream.
I stormed into Drake’s house and found him straddling the poor blond and beating his unconscious body.
I didn’t even think, just reacted on instinct, jabbing the syringe into Drake’s neck and shoving his limp body into my trunk.
The blond was still unconscious. Seeing his pretty curls mixed with blood made me sick.
What if this were my Pey on the floor? Unable to leave the poor guy, I carefully took his cellphone from his pocket and called 911.
It only takes an hour of torture at a secure location that Hunter and I use as a kill room for Drake to start confessing his crimes. The bastard is just as horrible as his father, preying on the young and hurting them.
“You know, Drake. You almost had me fooled. I thought maybe, just maybe, you weren’t stalking my sweet Peyton. But tonight, you had to show your true colors, didn’t you?” I ask.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he shouts, thrashing against his bindings. “I have nothing to do with your fiancé.”
“Husband,” I correct, sliding my brass knuckles on.
A part of me revels in the fact that if I can’t get Daniel Sinclair, then his piece of shit son will do in the meantime. Blood is still dripping from his empty eye sockets like a gruesome picture of bleeding mascara.
“I promise it’s not me. I’m not stalking Peyton. I won’t even look at him ever again.”
I laugh. “No, you won’t.”
He stills as if only now remembering why he can’t see. “My eyes! You’re sick. You’re a monster just like me.” He sobs. “That little assistant of yours will never want you when he sees the real you.”
By the time I make it home, I’m exhausted. There’s food waiting for me on the table. Instead of eating, I pack it away in the fridge. All I want to do is see Peyton.
He is sleeping in the guest room, his innocent face at peace, looking like a tempting angel with all his creamy skin on display. For the first time since marrying him, it feels wrong that I made him sleep here rather than in my bed. Our bed.
Loneliness fills my chest, the pain making it hard to breathe.
I rub at the spot over my heart, but it won’t go away.
Maybe it’s because we officially crossed a physical line earlier today, or maybe it’s because Drake’s words keep playing in my head on repeat, but I don’t want to be alone tonight.
Since Peyton moved it, my whole life has shifted. He’s more important than anything.
Not wanting to disturb him, I leave the room and shower. I scrub all the blood off my body as violently as I can. When I’m finished, I brush my teeth before slipping into a pair of black briefs. Then, I stare at my bed. And I keep staring.
Everything feels wrong. Too empty.
‘That little assistant of yours will never want you when he sees the real you.’
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I make my way back to Peyton’s side.
I stare down at his sleeping form. How many times have I watched him sleep through camera lenses and bedroom windows?
This is different, though. I can hear every little intake of breath, and I can see his lashes resting against his skin.
As if sensing me, Peyton’s eyes blink open. He yelps in surprise and bolts upright.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
Peyton’s shoulders relax, but his pouty lips turn down into a frown. I focus on them, so pretty and plush. We’ve been married for how long, and I haven’t even kissed him yet? Guilt swirls in my stomach. I made him strip down and practically give me a lap dance, but I couldn’t even kiss him?
‘That little assistant of yours will never want you when he sees the real you.’
“Mavik?” Peyton rubs at his eyes.
I sigh sadly. “Get some sleep, little light.”
His face scrunches in confusion, and I turn away, but Peyton’s soft voice stops me. “Come here,” he whispers.
Peyton slides back down under the covers before lifting the corner like a peace offering.
I crawl into bed next to him. My heart is beating frantically in my chest. I’ve killed many, survived countless dangerous situations, and led meetings with some of the world’s most intimidating CEOs, and yet, this tiny, beautiful man has the power to slay me.
I lie as still as possible, staring up at the ceiling fan. Peyton maneuvers around so he’s kneeling over me. Warm hands cup my cheeks. Even in the moonlight, Peyton is stunning.
“Thank you for taking care of me today, Daddy,” he whispers.
I close my eyes, willing my heart to stop beating. Something about this moment is both healing and heartbreaking.
“I’ll always protect you,” I whisper back. “Drake will never scare you again.”
“I know. I trust you. You’ll always keep me safe.” His fingers explore my face, tracing my jawline. My cheeks. My lips. “Can I kiss you, Mav?”
My eyes flutter open. I tangle my fingers in his hair, right at the base of his neck, and tug. He moans.
Fuck. This sweet boy. “Yes, Pey. Kiss me.”
He’s so close now, and the stare he’s giving me is so intense, like nothing I’ve seen from Peyton before.
I pull him down to me and press our lips together.
It’s the lightest of brushes. Just a taste.
A barely there touch that still somehow shoots lightning sparks of need down my spine.
I pull him in closer so he’s lying on top of me, gravity doing the work and pressing us tighter together.
This kiss changes, turns into something more desperate.
This first kiss is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s passionate. Frantic. There’s an undercurrent of something charged. Something electric. Peyton whimpers, and his hand finds his cock, fingers slipping under my waistband. “It’s your turn, Daddy. This time, let me take care of you.”
Then, he’s crawling down my body and wrapping his warm lips around my length.
“Fuck. You feel so good. How is your mouth this tight?” I swallow hard, thrusting up into this throat. “Please, Pey.”
Peyton chokes and pauses. I peer down at him, about to apologize, but the playful smirk he gives me leaves me speechless.
“That’s it, husband. Beg for my mouth. Use me. Make it rough.”
My body comes alive, buzzing with something alive. My thrusts start off small, almost tentative and testing. Without leaving my cock, he guides one of my hands back to his hair, where he encourages me to push. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, and it makes me lose control.
With a frantic need that’s pure animal instinct, I fuck his mouth.
Thrusting hard and fast, while grasping his soft curls and holding him in place.
I do what he wants, making my movements rough and claiming.
My legs begin trembling. Each thrust drags grunts and groans from my mouth.
All the while, Peyton is moaning and whimpering, begging for more with just his sounds alone.
“Fuck, boy. I’m not gonna last. I’m going to come down your throat and mark you from the inside.”
Peyton doubles his efforts, sucking harder and doing something fucking magical with his tongue.
And then, I’m gone. Exploding and flying as I come. Coming so hard, I black out, fading into the darkness.
I’m vaguely aware of Peyton shifting and cuddling against my side. “You’re perfect, Mavik.”