Reaver(32)

Clinging to those precious memories, Harvester thrust her tongue between Reaver’s velvety lips. For a heart-sinking moment he did nothing, but when she flicked her tongue against his, he responded with a low moan that flowed through her like a caress.

Sliding her hands upward from his shoulders to his neck, she traced the tendons that strained under his skin and the veins that pounded beneath her fingertips. A rumble started low in her belly, the hunger she needed to take care of soon but that always grew worse when she was aroused.

The taste of Reaver’s blood had only whetted her appetite, and the thought of sinking her teeth into Reaver’s warm flesh and taking the ultimate nectar that composed an angel’s blood made her fangs throb and lengthen.

She’d been disgusted by the idea of feeding when she’d first fallen, but gradually, she’d learned to tolerate it. Then like it. And now it was a pleasure she looked forward to.

Especially if she got to feed from an angel.

She didn’t care that drinking from an angel brought out her evil side.

A shudder of anticipation ran through her, followed by unwelcome reservations. She no longer had to play fallen angel, did she? Yes, she was technically a True Fallen, and she had all the needs that came with it. But she was supposed to be a good guy underneath her evil veneer. Shouldn’t she be at least trying to be decent?

Reaver’s teeth pinched her bottom lip, gently, and all her self-doubt faded into the background.

“Reaver,” she whispered against his mouth.

The next thing she knew Reaver flipped her onto her back and slammed his heavy body on top of her. His smile was cold as he looked down at her.

“Come on, Harvester,” he said, his voice husky, unused, and so damned sexy even when he was trying to intimidate her. “Did you really think I’d let you get the upper hand?”

“Of course not,” she said bitterly. “The great Reaver doesn’t let anyone get the upper hand. He doesn’t let anyone in, does he?”

He frowned. “Where is that coming from?”

A sudden stab of anxiety pierced her gut. Where, indeed. She had no idea if Reaver let people in or not. And why in the realm of fuck would she care, let alone be bitter about it?

Something was happening to her, and whatever it was, she didn’t like it. She used to know exactly who and what she was. Even when she was hanging from hooks in Satan’s living room, she knew what she was, even if what she was amounted to nothing but a slab of meat.

But since the moment Reaver stormed into her life to rescue her, everything she knew was turned upside down. Was she good? Was she evil?

Only one thing was certain: For the first time in her life, she was lost.



Very little could confuse Reaver. Harvester not only confused him; she twisted him into knots. His body reacted to her even as his brain tried to make sense of the things she said and did. No one else had ever done that to him. At least, no one whom he could remember.

“Well?” he prompted. “What makes you think I don’t let people in?” She was right, but how did she know that?

“I don’t want to answer,” she said crisply. “Now who has the upper hand?”

She shoved against him, a halfhearted effort. She was testing the waters, determining if she was strong enough to unseat him. She wasn’t, even though his body was still recovering from the paralyzation and was numb from the thighs down. Everything above that was in full operational mode. Everything was working too well, in fact, leaving him breathless, hot, and aching after Harvester’s kiss.

“I’m still on top of you,” he said. “So I wouldn’t get too cocky.”

She arched under him, blatantly rubbing against his erection. Oh… yeah. Forbidden pleasure jolted him all the way to his balls.

“I’m not the cocky one.” She smiled, all innocence and sugar. “So now that you have me under you, what do you plan to do to me?”

Plan? Or want? “I don’t plan to do anything to you.” He started to push away, but she grasped his biceps, digging her nails into his skin to hold him.

“Wait.”

Tired of her games and her taunts, annoyed with himself for becoming aroused by the one person in the universe he knew would use it against him, he snapped. “What?”

Hurt darkened her eyes but was gone so fast he’d have missed it if he blinked. “Nothing. Get off me.” She shoved at him, this time in earnest, but he didn’t budge.

He made an effort to soften his tone this time. “Tell me what you wanted.”

“Fuck off.”

He looked down, trying to get a read on her, but he kept getting derailed by the dark circles under her eyes. She was healing from her torture experience, but far too slowly, and they might still have a long way to go.