Page 30 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter twenty-six

Mavik

T hree fucking days and I have no idea where my husband is.

At first, a part of me thought some unknown stalker got to him.

That maybe, just maybe, Drake Sinclair was telling the truth when he promised me he wasn’t following my husband.

When I came home to a ransacked house, I thought someone had taken Pey from me, but the security feeds showed me that the little hellion who’d torn up our place was him.

Then, I watched him find my phone, magically plug in the password on the first try, and promptly throw up after watching one of my murders. Of course he fucking ran, but to my shock, he took my burner phone with him.

He immediately sent emails and texts to his friends and family, stating that he would be MIA for about a week, but I think it was just a ploy, because after messaging everyone, he shut off his phone.

He even left his car here. Just poof. Gone .

I’m surprised that he didn’t take his brother with him, but I have a feeling that deep down, he knows I would never hurt his brother.

The fact that the cops haven’t sent SWAT after my ass probably means I’m safe.

Peyton hasn’t told anyone. I might still have access to my secure network from my laptop, but I don’t have any way of tracking my burner phone’s location.

Only Hunter can do that. We purposely set it up this way in case one of us was in trouble, or one of us was discovered.

Only his burner phone can track mine and vice versa.

I pull up the network with my laptop and suck in a deep breath when notifications pop up. I spot the reason immediately. Peyton has watched several of our kills. Fuck, what must he think? My eyes scan the videos, and I pause when I notice there’s one video he’s watched multiple times.

Jimmy Melton.

My heart races when the notification pings, and the same video is playing again.

Peyton is currently watching me kill the man who abused him for years.

Fuck . He shouldn’t be watching this. It’s one thing to wish your abusive ex dead, but it’s something else entirely to watch someone you know kill said ex.

The crazy urge to find him and wrap him up in my arms is strong. I want to hold him and keep him safe.

But how can I keep him safe when the monster is me?

The next morning, I give up when I realize I’m in over my head and I need help.

My emotions are running high. The man I married has found out his husband is a killer.

He has access to all our kills. And it’s not just my kills; it’s Hunter’s too.

Hopefully, Peyton thinks I’m the only one.

But it’s only a matter of time before he discovers a kill that took place when Pey and I were out of the country.

I dial Hunter’s number since he’s the only one who can track the burner phone. “Hey, Mavik. What’s up? Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon right about now? Is Peyton already tired of your ass?”

“Hunt,” I say seriously. “We have a situation.” It only takes me a few moments to explain. He’s cursing the whole time, and I can hear him tapping furiously on his laptop.

After several tense minutes, Hunter barks out a laugh. “I never gave your husband enough credit. He’s smart.”

“Where is he, Hunter?” I ask. My voice is rough with anger and something else.

“Your mother’s place. The little minx has been hiding out at Mommy Dearest’s place while she vacations here with me in Italy.”

My heart races with nerves and excitement. “I’ll take care of this.”

“You’d better.” Hunter’s voice turns deadly. “And if you don’t, I’ll take care of him myself.”

Rage boils through me, and I snap. “I said I’ll take care of him. Lay a fucking finger on him, Hunt, and you’re dead. You hear me?”

Hunter laughs, but there isn’t any humor in it. “I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing, brother.”

I sigh.

Fuck. So do I.

It only takes me about fifteen minutes to get to my mother’s place. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful contrast of light and shadows among the tree branches.

Sliding out of the car, I slip my skull mask on and quietly close the door so I don’t alert Peyton.

The nice thing about my mother’s place is that it’s secluded enough with nothing but a strip of forest behind her, but there are still neighbors close enough that if they decided to pop by my mother’s unannounced, it’s probably better that I conceal my face.

Sticking close to the house, I peer through the windows just like I’ve done hundreds of times while spying on my pretty little assistant.

It’s different this time, though. When he sees my mask, he’ll know it’s me.

I peer through every window carefully, frustrated when I don’t spot him.

He isn’t in the living room, the kitchen, or my mother’s bedroom.

That only leaves a bathroom, the guest bedroom, and the dining room.

I’m surprised when I notice that the curtains of the guest bedroom are wide open. Of course he’s in there. He probably didn’t want to bother my mother by messing up her bed, instead opting to stay in the spare room.

As soon as I glance inside, I freeze.

Peyton is sprawled out on the bed in nothing but lingerie.

His hand strokes his hard cock lazily, but what surprises me the most is the fact that he’s jerking off while watching a video play on my burner phone.

It slams into me. I know exactly which video he’s watching.

The video of me strangling his ex with my bare hands.

Looks as though my sweet little Peyton isn’t as innocent as I thought.

Fuck. Me.

He’s gorgeous like this, writhing on the bed like a tempting gift from the devil. I never could’ve imagined this reaction. I move closer, and sure enough, I can kind of make out what’s happening on the phone screen through the closet mirror next to him.

When my fingers wrap around his ex’s neck, Peyton lets go of his cock and uses that hand to wrap his own fingers around his neck.

I know he’s imagining that it’s me cutting off his circulation and pleasuring him.

The sight is so fucking intoxicating. I want to barge through the house and fuck him just like this.

But then, Peyton drops the phone and resumes stroking himself. And just when I couldn’t think this image couldn’t get any more tempting, he stares at the window. Almost as if he’s searching. Waiting.

He’s looking for me. For his masked lover to make an appearance. So, I give him exactly what he wants. I use the flashlight on my phone to illuminate my mask and step even closer to the window.

I see the moment Peyton notices. His eyes become hooded, and his strokes pick up the pace.

Until he realizes I’m not a figment of his imagination and screams. He bolts upright in bed.

Before he can form a plan, I’m sprinting to the front of the house and using my other spare key on my keyring to unlock the door.

Rookie mistake, because by the time I’m storming into the house, Peyton is already out the back door and sprinting toward the trees.

He’s still in nothing but his lingerie, but at least he was quick enough to tuck his hard erection away and slip into a pair of black boots.

Peyton is a fucking vision with all his pale skin jiggling in that pretty lace.

I know it’s so fucking wrong, but my libido decides that this is one sexy-as-fuck game, and by the end of the night, I will be inside my husband.

Giving my Peyton a head start—and my cock a few strokes—I wait one more moment before I take off after him.

The crunching of the leaves and the snapping of branches up ahead tell me exactly where Peyton is. Since I’m a practiced predator, it doesn’t take long for me to catch up to my boy. His breathing is labored, and his pace has slowed dramatically.

A branch snaps under my foot, and Peyton hears. He whips his head back and looks over his shoulder. He gasps when he sees me in my mask right behind him. He tries to run faster, but it’s useless. He trips, and I use his momentum to push him to the ground.

I yank him by the ankles and drag him closer to me. The air whooshes from his lungs. I climb on top of him, still fully clothed, but the feral part of me doesn’t care. I could probably rut against his body and be happy.

“Mavik?” Peyton asks in a shaky, labored voice. He already knows it’s me, but seeing the skull mask means he probably wants confirmation. Such a smart boy.

“Did you miss me?” I pin his wrists above his head.

He gasps, struggling, or hell maybe grinding against me. “It is you.”

I slide a hand down his body, noting the way some of the lingerie has ripped in places. He tries to kick me, but I press my body against him, letting my weight smash him against the forest floor. “No, don’t do that,” I tsk. “How will I reward my good boy for keeping all my secrets if he struggles?”

He gasps. “Th-that’s not what I’m doing! You’re crazy.” He thrashes and kicks more. The movement only gets me harder.

“And yet, you haven’t said your safe word, love.” If he says it, I’ll stop. He doesn’t realize it yet, but Peyton holds all the cards.

I lift my body weight off him and rip the lacy material of his decorative bralette off him.

He moans. He fucking moans . The sound flips a switch in me.

I lower my face to his neck and suck a mark onto his skin.

He whimpers, grinding harder. My hand finds his cock, and I wrap my fingers around his thick length.

“Fuck. Look how hard you are for your husband. Is this what you want, Pey? You want me to take you right here, to fuck you into the dirt?”

His breathing becomes more labored. Giving up the fight, he rubs his erection against my thigh. “Please, Mavik,” he begs. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, little light. As much as I want to do that, I need to make sure you can’t run when we’re done.

My little brat has been a naughty boy.” Carefully, I wrap my hand around his throat and add a little pressure.

One of his hands wiggles free, but to my shock, he places his hand over mine, adding pressure until he passes out.