Her Reaper's Arms by Charlotte Boyett-Compo (ebook pdf reader for pc TXT) 📕

would know I’d spent the night with you.”

Thunderclouds shifted over the Reaper’s face. “And?” he prodded.

She bit her lip. “I was afraid they might view me as they do the other girls here.”

His fork clunked to his plate though he still kept hold of it. “They’d gods-bedamned better not view you as they do those whores!” he growled.

“They don’t!” she was quick to tell him. She held his irate stare and repeated that

the townspeople did not see her in that light.

“All right then,” he finally said, and shoveled the eggs into his mouth. He downed

three strips of bacon and the rest of the eggs before she’d barely started on her food.

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By the time she’d finished eating, he had consumed everything on the tray she

hadn’t wanted and had taken a spoon to the jam, polishing it off as though it were

dessert.

“You like sweets,” she observed.

Bevyn shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He needed his tenerse and he needed

Sustenance, but his cock was in dire need of something else and he felt like kicking

himself as he looked at the empty jam dish.

“Milord?” Lea queried.

“Wench, there are two things I need when I rise each day,” he said.

“Oh!” she said, and scraped her chair back. “I forgot about your medicine.”

He watched her go to the saddlebags and take out the vac-syringe. His heart did a

funny little squeeze as he saw her load the hypodermic then come over to him to

administer it. He held very still as she injected the fiery payload, trying his best not to

flinch but looking forward to having her massage away his pain with her cool little

fingers.

“What else do you need, milord?” she asked.

She was so close to him—her scent invading his nostrils, stirring his cock—and the

overload of sugar he’d consumed was making his shaft as hard as flint.

“Sustenance,” he managed to say, shifting again in the chair to try to relieve the

pressure of his erection.

“B-Blood?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“I usually carry some with me but I ran out and I’ve had to take…” He stopped,

looking up at her suddenly pale face. “Wench, no! I’ll not be sinking my teeth into you.

Don’t…”

“Why not?” she asked although she was trembling. “I am your mate, am I not?”

He frowned. “Aye, but…”

“Is that not my right?” she asked. “My duty to you?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said. “I can ride over to Clewiston. Each territory has a

refrigeration unit that houses the plastibags. The Citadel sends out Sustenance by train

on a regular basis for the Reapers. I…”

“Here,” she said, sweeping her long hair away from her neck. “It is my right and

my duty. Take from me.”

He shook his head. “No, wench. I…”

“Clewiston is an hour’s ride away,” she said. “Your hand is shaking and that will be

a long ride, now won’t it?”

Bevyn looked at her neck then shook his head again. “Don’t tempt me, milady,” he

said. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” she repeated. “Take what you need, Reaper! I demand it as my right!”

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A part of him needed something far different from her and the more he looked at

her beautiful neck, the more he wanted it. Before he gave it any more thought, he

hopped up from the table and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.

Lea thought he was simply lying her down so she’d be more comfortable but when

he flung her skirts up and out of the way and began fumbling with his fly, she just

stared at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Too…much…sugar,” he said, crawling atop her. “Entirely…too…much…sugar!”

He was inside her before Lea could react to his curious words. Full and thick and

pulsing within her, his shaft was a wondrous delight that had her circling his neck with

her arms. She was a bit sore from the previous night but his warmth inside her was

starting a fire that she realized she was eager to have spread through her.

“Is this how you want to start each day, milord?” she asked with a laugh.

“Is there a better way?” he countered, grinding his hips against her.

“You still need Sustenance,” she reminded him.

“Aye,” he said, and bent to her neck, his fangs lengthening.

Although his body was beating at him to pump wildly into her to assuage the

burning need in his cock, Bevyn had just enough patience and discipline to cloud her

mind of the pain his fangs caused as he sank them gently into her neck, impaling her,

drawing her sweet blood into his mouth. He heard her sigh and felt himself jerk inside

her.

A light mist of numbness had spread over Lea’s mind but her lower body was

responding to the hard rod sliding in and out of it. She was aware of his mouth at her

throat, could feel her life’s blood being drawn, but there was no pain. If anything, it was

highly erotic and when he swallowed, she trembled in his arms, her sheath tightening

around him.

He gave as he took and with his hands under her delightful little rump holding her

tightly to him, he stoked her fires as he stoked his own and they came at the exact same

moment, her climax the sweetest thing he could imagine as he lapped at the dual

wounds on her neck, closing them. Retracting his fangs, he rolled off her, carrying her

with him, holding her atop him as he looked up into her sated eyes.

“You have bewitched me, milady,” he said in awe. “You are fast becoming an

addiction I know I will never break nor is it one I would ever wish to.”

“Is it not time you had something of your own, something that belongs only to you,

Bevyn Coure?” she asked.

Why she said it, Lea would never know, and she was as shocked by the words that

came out of her mouth as was the man lying beneath her.

“Milady,” he whispered, and gathered her to him, tears flooding his golden eyes.

They lay like that for a long time with his arms tightly around her, Lea’s cheek on

his shoulder. Her fingers danced gently along the buttons—undoing them slowly—

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