Page 8 of Scream, Little Thief

The masked man places my leg over his shoulder so he can go in even deeper and pushes his tongue into my pussy, licking up my wetness.

“I want to hear you scream tonight, little thief.” Reaper’s hot breath makes my neck tingle. “I want everyone to hear you come screaming.”

He lowers his fingers just a fraction to let me answer, though I doubt he’ll like what I have to say.

“What if I don’t want that?” I pant.

Reaper’s laugh is deep and cruel, his arm around me like an iron grip. “Then you’re lying to me, and to yourself.”

It’s so hard to concentrate with his friend still playing with my clit and my pussy. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I won’t start tonight.

“Am I, now?”

He nods at the stranger eating me out, who thrusts a finger inside me.

Electricity zings through my body, the feeling making me moan out loud, but I’m not as distracted as they think I am.

I spread my legs wider while simultaneously pushing back against Reaper’s chest to gain momentum, then I kick at the stranger’s elbow, shoving his hand to the side and pushing him off-balance. Using their surprise, I twist and turn until I’m out of Reaper’s embrace—and I run.

Water splashes. Heat and adrenaline pump through my veins. I don’t waste time grabbing my clothes, but I do pick up my whip. The only thing I can use in my defense.

When I turn around, Reaper’s already coming for me.

I don’t think. I just act.

I lunge my whip at him, using it as a weapon for the first time.

His reflexes are astounding. Instead of ducking, he catches the other end in his hand without even flinching. Then he starts pulling me toward him.

Even though I should let go of the handle, I don’t. Because deep down, I don’t want to run away from this. From him. I want every filthy thing he’s promised me. Whatever that says about my mental state, I couldn’t care less. This is what I need. Him. In whichever way he sees fit. Because in the end, I always get way more than I could ever imagine.

When I’m standing right in front of him, Reaper turns me around and pulls my arms behind my back. I don’t fight him this time—not even when he opens his belt and ties my wrists with it.

“Get to the chaise longue. On your knees, back turned to me.”

For a second, my gaze wanders to the other guy who licked my pussy only a couple of seconds ago. He’s standing next to the hot tub, water droplets running down his chiseled torso.

I swallow hard.

My limbs are trembling, but I position myself on the cushion, legs spread, heart pounding. My skin’s still wet from the hot tub, and goose bumps erupt on my arms and my legs, but I’m not cold. How could I be, under Reaper’s fiery gaze?

Well, the patio heaters might also be helping.

I can’t see what’s happening behind me, but I can feel their stares on me, their eyes wandering over my body, over every curve, just like their hands will.

But it’s Reaper who steps up behind me. Even if I can’t see him, his powerful presence is familiar. Just like the tickling of excitement, because I don’t know what’s about to happen or what he’s going to do to me.

His fingers grab my ass first, massaging my cheeks.

Then he rasps in my ear, “Seems like someone wants to be punished tonight.”

CHAPTER SIX

“Idon’t⁠—”

A scream cuts me off. It’s my own scream, and it turns into a moan of pleasure when Reaper slaps my ass a second time.

Fuck, I love the sizzling sensation. I’d never let another man do what he just did, but with him, it’s different. I crave every second of it.