Page 45 of Reaper’s Ruin (Reaper’s Ruin Trilogy #1)

I stepped back, struggling to maintain control. “You don’t know what you’re asking. I’ve been alone for eight hundred years. If I let go...” I shook my head. “With what I feel for you, I won’t be able to hold back. I can’t. I won’t ruin you. You’re too good. Too pure.”

Her eyes darkened, determination and desire mingling in their depths. “I’m not asking you to hold back. I’m not some virgin sacrifice, Rhyker. I’ve had sex before—boring, careful, vanilla sex with boyfriends who never made me feel the way I feel with you.”

My vision went red.

Mine .

The thought snapped through me like a whip.

The image of another man touching her—laying his hands on what was mine —was enough to push me over the edge.

But knowing she’d been with others, that she wasn’t untouched, that I wouldn’t be shattering something delicate but instead claiming something already hers to give?

It broke me.

Utterly. Completely.

The thought of other men touching her sent something primal and possessive surging through me.

I wanted to fuck her so hard I’d carve my name into her soul with every thrust until the only one she ever remembered, the only one she’d ever beg for, was me.

I’d claim every inch of her so completely, so ruthlessly, I’d erase every trace of the men who came before—wipe them from her skin, her mind, her memory—until only I remained.

Etched into her body. Burned into her soul. Branded into her afterlife.

She must have seen it in my eyes because she pressed her advantage, stepping forward until our bodies were almost touching. Her gaze never left mine as she devastated me with her next words.

“You’re scared to ruin me? Don’t be. I want you to ruin me.

Wreck me. Break me apart and make me yours.

Unleash every inch of your power and don’t you dare hold back.

I don’t want gentle. I don’t want careful.

I want to be ruined by you, Rhyker.” She leaned in, lips at my ear, voice shaking with need.

“Wrecked so thoroughly I’ll feel it in the afterlife. ”

My honor shattered.

My control shattered.

Every wall I’d built to keep her out—gone in a single breath.

I wouldn’t be her first.

But gods help me...

I would be her last.

“You’re mine,” I growled, grabbing her behind her head with a ferocity that should have terrified her.

But she matched my hunger, rising on her toes to meet my mouth as I claimed her lips with mine. Mouth crushing hers in a kiss that had waited lifetimes. The kiss was nothing like our first—this was desperation, possession, the release of something we’d both been holding back for too long.

Her moan shot through me like lightning, and suddenly there was no air, no castle, no danger. No life, no death, no past, no future—just us . Just the two of us tangled in a wildfire that couldn’t be stopped.

I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist as I pressed her against the wall, my mouth never leaving hers.

She tasted like storm wine and desire, her lips parting eagerly beneath mine.

My hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, swallowing the soft moan that escaped her.

“Rhyker,” she gasped as my mouth moved to her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath my lips. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

The pleading in her voice broke something loose inside me—the last thread of restraint snapping like brittle glass.

I carried her to the massive desk, sweeping Lord Cassius’s possessions to the floor with one arm, uncaring of the noise or mess.

All that mattered was her—her warmth, her scent, the way she clung to me as if afraid I might vanish.

She gasped, eyes widening at the display of strength, but there was no fear in her gaze.

Only heat. Only desire. Her fingers worked at the fastenings of my jacket, shaking with urgency.

I helped her, tearing away the restrictive formal clothing that separated us.

Buttons scattered across the floor as fabric gave way beneath impatient hands.

She paused, her eyes traveling over the planes of my chest, her fingers tracing the carved lines as she stared at me with awe. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against my throat as her fingers drifted down my chest to my stomach.

My cock surged inside my pants, the simple touch almost making me come on command. I didn’t want to end this too soon. It wasn’t just centuries of denial making me ready to unravel with the simplest breath... it was her.

A growl rumbled in my throat, and I pushed her backward, laying her back on the desk and caging her beneath my arms.

“Do you want this?” I asked, my voice barely recognizable, rough with need. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I want this,” she replied without hesitation. “I want you. All of you.”

As if to answer my question, she pressed me back to standing and rose in front of me.

Her gaze locked with mine as she reached back and pulled the ties keeping her dress secured.

Slowly, like exquisite torture, I watched as she undid her laces, one agonizing second at a time.

No fear flooded her eyes, no hesitation.

Desire.

Only desire reflected in those glassy orbs.

My mouth went dry when her dress fell away, pooling at her feet revealing soft curves and pale skin bathed in moonlight.

I couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe .

Eight centuries or a thousand lifetimes. It didn’t matter. I would never see anything more perfect, more utterly beautiful.

“Touch me, Rhyker,” she breathed, and those three words nearly destroyed me.

Raw, possessive desire surged through me as I pushed her backward.

She hit the desk, her bare ass sliding onto the rich wood.

My hands trembled as I touched her—Death itself reduced to shaking by this half-human, half-fae woman who had crashed into my existence and shattered everything I’d believed about myself.

I traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip with reverent fingers, committing every inch to memory.

She leaned back, her soft neck exposed as she spread her legs wider. My gaze fell to the wet, pink skin between them, and I nearly came undone as my cock throbbed with desire to bury itself in her.

I dropped to my knees, whether by choice or not I didn’t know, but I kneeled before her like a man worshipping at her altar.

I reached forward, my touch hesitant at first as if this couldn’t be real.

She couldn’t be real, but when I slid my fingers against her warmth, felt her slick skin beneath my fingertips, heard her moan, I knew this was no figment of my imagination.

Desperate to know what she tasted like, I leaned forward, parting her lips with my fingers, rubbing my thumb against her swollen clit before gently, slowly, tasting her with my tongue.

Her legs shook on either side of my head as she whimpered.

I savored her taste, relished it as I worked her with my tongue.

Her hips moved, encouraging me on, then I dipped a finger inside her.

First one. Then two. She moaned louder, pressing herself against me, begging me for more.

I answered.

I flicked my tongue against her while my fingers slid in and out, memorizing the taste of her, the feel of her, the sounds rolling out of her mouth on repeat .

“Rhyker, oh my God, Rhyker.”

My name. She said it like a prayer.

Her hips bucked, moving against me, encouraging my fingers deeper and deeper.

I pressed them farther inside her, and my tongue devoured that soft clit I could have licked for eternity.

Her taste. Her sweetness. The sounds she made as I circled it slowly then faster, every cry, every moan, telling me exactly how she liked it.

I felt her tightening. Felt her body responding. I didn’t let up, didn’t slow down. I wanted to make her shatter so hard she forgot everything and everyone who had ever come before me.

“Rhyker!” she cried out, and I didn’t even care if the guards down the hall heard her scream. If they dared to come in here and caught us, I’d slaughter them all then fuck her on this desk with their bloody corpses scattered around us.

She came undone at my touch, and when I felt the last of the waves flooding her body, I licked her softly one last time then rose above her.

She lay back on the desk, skin flushed and exposed, her eyes hooded and heavy with satiated desire. She looked up at me like I was salvation and destruction all at once.

But I wasn’t done with her yet. She’d begged me to wreck her, and wreck her I would. I would fuck her so hard that not even obliteration could erase me from her mind.

She reached out, her fingers tracing the skin above my waistband, her teeth catching her lip as she spread her legs wider, inviting me in.

“Do you want this?” I asked, my voice barely recognizable, rough with need. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I want this,” she replied without hesitation, her fingers trailing just beneath the waist of my pants. “I want you. All of you.”

“Are you certain?” I asked one final time, poised at the threshold of something I knew would change me forever .

Her answer was to undo my pants, pulling my cock into her hand, her eyes never leaving mine.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.

Show me,” she whispered, her voice raspy with need as her hand slid down my shaft.

“Show me true passion. Show me what it feels like to be taken completely. Show me what eight hundred years of wanting looks like.”

A sound tore from my throat—half growl, half plea.

I couldn’t deny her. Couldn’t deny myself. Not anymore.

“You want to be ruined?” I rasped, palming her thighs as I stepped between them. “Then look at me while I do it. ”

Her gaze locked to mine, unwavering. Bold. Brave. That damn fire in her eyes, the one that had lit something dead in me from the beginning, burned hotter than ever.