Page 46 of Reaper’s Ruin (Reaper’s Ruin Trilogy #1)

“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered.

“Maybe you should be,” I growled.

With control long abandoned, I leaned down, caging her between my arms as I claimed her mouth again. Her legs parted for me, welcoming, inviting. I knew we should slow down, should take our time, but the hunger between us was too fierce, too urgent to contain.

And then I took her.

Raw. Hard. Desperate.

We both shattered.

There was no control left. No composure. Just teeth and hands and the low, filthy sounds of skin against skin and the way she said my name like a prayer she’d finally stopped whispering and started screaming.

She was fire beneath me. I was the storm crashing down to meet her.

And nothing, nothing, had ever felt more right.

When our bodies joined, the sensation was so overwhelming I had to close my eyes, had to pause to absorb the feeling of perfect completion. Eight centuries of emptiness, of cold detachment, vanished in the warmth of her body. She gasped, her back arching, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Rhyker,” she breathed, my name on her lips more powerful than any incantation.

I began to move, slowly at first, savoring each sensation, each subtle change in her expression. But the fire between us couldn’t be contained. Our movements grew more urgent, more desperate, a primal rhythm as old as time itself.

She cried out—loud, raw, unfiltered—and I buried my face against her throat, gasping against the heat of her skin. She was so tight, so hot, clenching around me like her body recognized mine. Like it had been made for me. I could barely hold back. I didn’t want to hold back.

She was mine now.

Every stroke was a claim, every breath she gave me a tether I clung to like a man crawling out of oblivion itself. I drove into her with punishing thrusts, each one knocking the air from us both. The desk creaked beneath her. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the chamber.

Her nails scored down my back. Her teeth grazed my shoulder. She was just as wild, just as desperate—grinding her hips up to meet every thrust like she couldn’t get enough. Like she needed me as badly as I needed her.

And fuck, she was so loud . Begging. Moaning. Panting my name like she couldn’t stop saying it. The dirty things coming out of that perfect, filthy little mouth only made me want her more.

She was perfection beneath me—responsive, unashamed, meeting each thrust with equal fervor. Her hands traced the scars across my back from battles fought centuries ago, accepting all of me without question or judgment .

“I’ll never forget this,” she gasped, voice breaking as she rocked against me. “Never—Rhyker— more —”

I gave her more.

My mouth found her breast, tongue flicking over the tight peak before I bit gently—just enough to make her cry out and arch beneath me. Her whole body shuddered, and I felt her tighten around me, her orgasm spiraling through her like lightning crashing through glass.

“ Fuck. ” The curse tore from my throat as I watched her fall apart. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

I should’ve slowed down. I should’ve been gentle. Given her time to bathe in the aftermath of her release.

I couldn’t.

I grabbed her by the waist, hauling her to stand then commanded her. “Turn around.”

She did—breathless, trusting, hair wild and cheeks flushed.

I grabbed her hips, and then I slammed into her from behind and took her— hard and fast and brutal. She met me thrust for thrust, no hesitation, no fear. Just us, caught in this violent, perfect storm we’d been circling for days.

Gods, she was even tighter this way. Her body welcomed me, her cries muffled by her arm braced against the wood, and I gritted my teeth, holding on by a thread as I pounded into her, losing every last scrap of control I’d ever had.

I was going to come. Too fast. Too hard.

And I didn’t care.

“Say it,” I demanded, my voice a rough snarl. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” she gasped. “ You. I’m yours, Rhyker.”

That was it.

I groaned her name like a prayer and exploded inside her, hips stuttering, pulse thundering.

At that same moment I lost control, my wings exploded from my body, the dark shadows consuming the space around us as they curled forward, surrounding us.

My forehead dropped to her back, and for a long moment, all I could do was breathe her in.

She was shaking, still clinging to the desk, her legs trembling as I held her on the desk— his desk. The very man that had murdered her had somehow gifted me this woman— my woman—and gods did I hate myself for feeling grateful to him.

She would have lived her mortal life, never knowing I existed, while I haunted the shadows for eternity, alone.

Part of me wanted to reach into his chest and rip out his heart for what we’d done to her. But the other part? To be grateful for the tragedy that had brought her to me—what kind of monster had I become? But how could I wish for anything different—anything that would’ve meant she’d never come here?

Never found me.

Never became mine.

And just like that, I felt it—that terrifying, exhilarating clarity.

I was hers.

She rolled onto her back, her eyes meeting mine before drifting to the shadowy wings still curling like smoke behind me. Her lips parted, breath catching as she took in my true form—naked, powerful, otherworldly.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch the edge of one wing. It rippled at her touch, and her eyes widened with wonder. “You’re beautiful, Rhyker.”

No one had ever called Death beautiful before. The word lodged in my chest like a blade. But the heat in her eyes, the way she looked at me like I was something magnificent instead of monstrous—it undid me completely.

When the last of the shadows melted away, I was just Rhyker again—naked, spent, shattered, and completely hers.

I collapsed onto my back on the desk, slipping an arm around her and pulling her against me like I could keep her there forever.

Her skin was flushed, glowing in the soft moonlight.

Hair tangled. Lips swollen from my kisses. And absolutely fucking radiant.

She’d just let me lose every shred of control I’d clung to for centuries and trusted me with it.

And it wasn’t her that was ruined... it was me .

I had tried to hold back so hard knowing if I gave in to the feelings I fought for her, that I would be totally and irreparably fucked .

And now—now I was.

I brushed my hand down her back, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her spine like I could memorize it through touch alone. I could feel her still shaking in my arms. Not from fear. Not from pain.

Just us . The weight of what we’d just done. What we were .

She rested her cheek against my chest, listening to my heartbeat like it meant something. Like she didn’t just blow apart every line I’d drawn to keep her at a distance. Like this wasn’t the beginning of the end.

Because she was going to leave.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after.

Or maybe tonight. When I ripped the truth from Cassius, even tonight, she could get her peace. Soon, a door would come for her. A doorway carved from peace and closure and all the answers we were chasing. And she would step through it.

She’d find her afterlife.

And I... I’d stay here.

Alone.

In the shadows .

With nothing but the memory of how she’d felt beneath me, how she’d looked at me—like I was something more than Death. Like I was a man.

And now that someone had, now that she had... I didn’t know how I’d survive watching her go.

I’d survived losing everything before. My home. My family. My world.

But her?

Losing her would break me in a way I wouldn’t come back from.

She shifted slightly, nuzzling closer, her hand splayed over my chest like she was trying to keep something inside me from slipping away. “That was...” she whispered, words trailing off like she didn’t even know what to call it.

Sacred? Destructive? World-ending?

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “It was.”

Her fingers curled tighter. And in that moment, I almost said it. Almost told her that she’d ruined me in return. That she held more power over me than anyone else ever had.

But I didn’t.

Because if I spoke it aloud, it would be real.

And when she walked through that door...

It would destroy me.

But for now, for this brief moment in time, she was mine and I was hers.

And that would have to be enough.