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

Chapter seven

Mavik

M y heart pounds erratically as I press myself against the apartment building, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows.

That was too damn close. The patio light flickers on, and I press myself harder against the stucco wall, the sharp surface digging into my back.

The extra flare of pain only adds to my arousal.

I’ve never been this damn hard in my entire life.

Fuck me, my assistant is absolutely crazy.

He was totally getting off on the idea of my watching him.

The way he looked wearing that pretty scrap of material before he peeled it off.

The concentration in his blue eyes as he stared at the glass door, and stroked himself… the way he screamed my name.

Goddamn.

There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to scrub that image of my assistant pleasuring himself for me out of my mind.

Unable to fight the fire burning in my blood, I yank out my cock with a growl and close my eyes.

I stroke myself furiously, almost angrily, to the images of my dirty little assistant.

He fucking did this to me. Turned me into a desperate mess.

I haven’t forgotten the way I’ve made minuscule mistakes around him or the way he’s distracted me.

This is why I never crossed that imaginary line we’ve been toeing for years.

Never flirted with my assistant or gave in to those pleading eyes and bratty remarks.

I never let anyone this close to me. Because deep down, I know it would be so easy to give up everything for Peyton.

There’s something about him that calls to me on a cellular level.

I want to cherish him, take care of him, and keep him safe.

And that dark side of me wants to lock him up in my house, chain him to my bed, and own his body, heart, and soul.

But I can’t. I’m so fucking close to my goal. I only have three people left on my kill list.

Revenge always comes first.

I can’t afford to make errors or entertain frivolous thoughts of a life with this beautiful man.

Still. I can’t get the image of him falling apart with his own hand squeezing his throat and his back arching off the sofa out of my head. I want him so damn badly. I want to replace his fingers with my own and mark all that creamy skin so everyone knows he’s mine.

Suddenly, the sound of the latch on his patio door clicks, and it slowly slides open.

I freeze, hard cock still in hand, and excitement racing through my veins.

He’s insane … and I fucking love it. My pretty little light likes to tempt darkness.

There’s no way someone in their right frame of mind would be opening their door after seeing a masked figure watching them.

I didn’t intend to get close enough for Peyton to see me through his window, but a part of me craved a reaction.

Consequences be damned. I wanted him to see me in my skull mask, staring at him, knowing that he’d just put on a show for an unwanted audience.

A part of me wanted him to know that his boss isn’t all good.

There’s an evil shadow that lives inside of me, and I want Peyton to know it.

To look into its dark depths and accept it.

To accept me, darkness and all.

Footsteps sound on the patio. If Peyton were to lean over the railing and peer around the corner, he’d see me here leaning against his wall. I grin and resume stroking myself. Slowly this time.

The screech of a patio chair sounds as he drags it back.

I assume he’s sitting there, probably wondering if I was a figment of his imagination.

Music suddenly pours from his phone, and heavy metal fills the air.

If Peyton were a smoker, I could easily imagine him propped in his chair, ankles crossed, taking a long drag, deep in thought.

Just the thought of him being mere feet away, probably smelling faintly of his cologne, sweat, and sex, has my cock leaking and desperate for that tight hole he kept showing off.

I jerk off to the sound of Peyton’s music and pretty images of him in my head.

His music is loud enough that I know he won’t be able to hear me, but still, I imagine him finding me here, gasping with fear as his eyes study my mask and dilate with arousal.

I come to the image of me shoving Peyton to his knees and painting his face with my cum.

And when I finish, I quietly tuck myself away, lust-drunk and satisfied, before making my way back to my car.

On the drive home, I decide I’ll play it off as if I were out with a friend and had a few too many drinks when I texted him.

I don’t need Peyton suspicious and using his pretty little brain to piece things together.

I need Peyton and me to go back to the way we were before I went insane and flirted back.

I’m so close to finishing what I started eighteen years ago, I can’t afford any more mistakes.

It isn’t until I get back to my place that I realize my biggest mistake by far. I left the white flower with drops of my blood on Peyton’s table.

Fuck .