His mouth found my neck, targeting the most sensitive spot below my ear. A gasp escaped as heat flooded me, knees weakening. Slowly, he released my wrists, almost as if he could sense how desperately I yearned for him. I threw my arms around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. My head tilted back instinctively, giving him better access. His teeth grazed my pulse, sending electric currents through my body.
“The human body is remarkable,” he murmured against my skin, scientific observation mixing with raw hunger ashis fingers explored. “How it can respond even after trauma. How it can want…despite everything.”
My breath caught as he curled his fingers upward, finding that perfect spot that made my knees weak. I grasped his shoulders, nails digging into muscle.
“This doesn’t mean I need you,” I managed, a desperate attempt to maintain control. Not when everyone I’d ever needed had disappeared or been taken. The thought of losing yet another person terrified me more than anything else in this world.
His fingers stilled inside me. He looked into my eyes, seeing through my defenses. “No. But you want me.” He pressed deeper, making me whimper. “Say it.”
I bit my lip, fighting even as my body clenched around his fingers.
“Say it, Maeve,” he demanded, his thumb circling my clit with maddening lightness.
“I want you,” I finally whispered. “Fuck, I want you.”
Something flashed in his eyes—triumph, hunger, vulnerability. He backed me against the wall, caging me, one hand beside my head while the other continued between my legs.
“Look at you,” he said, voice hushed. “They told me people were just targets or assets. They never said…” His voice trailed off. “That someone could make me ache for a touch this much.”
His free hand mapped my body, tracing my waist, my breast, pinching my nipple withcalculated pressure that pulled a ragged moan from my throat.
“Spread your legs for me.” His command resonated, brooking no argument.
For a heartbeat, I resisted—not because I didn’t want to, but because surrender had always felt dangerous. Journalists maintained a distance and controlled information. We didn’t yield.
But this wasn’t an interview. And I was tired of always being in control.
I complied, shifting my stance wider as water streamed between us. He gave a low growl of approval.
“That’s it, just like that…” he murmured, fingers moving with devastating accuracy. “So responsive… so fucking wet already.” He pushed deeper, adding another finger, stretching me. “You’ve been thinking about this too, haven’t you? Tell me. Ever since our first time together, I’ve been unable to get you out of my head.”
“Yes,” I admitted, my cheeks burning at the admission. But I didn’t care. God, I didn’t care. “I’ve thought about your hands, your mouth… your cock inside me.”
Something shifted in his expression—genuine surprise. I noticed his hands were trembling against my skin, betraying his perfect control.
He caught me noticing, and his breath caught. “You make my fucking hands shake. No one’s ever done that before.”
His admission hit me harder than any touch. This man, programmed for absolute control, was affected by me in ways he couldn’t suppress.
“They would have terminated me for this weakness,” he said in a voice so low I barely heard it. There was something terrible and honest in his eyes. “For wanting something for myself.”
His words settled between us. This wasn’t just sex—it was defiance. It was him claiming humanity they tried to strip away. It was both of us refusing to be what Oblivion wanted: him a weapon, me a broken shell.
“I shouldn’t be capable of this,” he confessed against my ear. “They designed me to simulate desire only as a weapon. This is…different. This is mine. Ours.”
Before I could process his words, Reaper dropped to his knees. Water cascaded down his shoulders, highlighting his defined muscles.
My gaze slid downward to his cock—hard, thick, intimidating. Heat rushed through me. I wanted him inside me with primal urgency.
“Put your leg over my shoulder,” he commanded. “I’ll keep you standing.”
I hesitated, conscious of my recovering strength. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Trust me.” His eyes locked with mine. “I won’t let you fall.”
Something in the phrase resonated beyond this moment—a larger promise. I carefully lifted my leg over his broad shoulder, exposing myself to his hungry gaze.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against my inner thigh. His hands spread me apart. “So fucking beautiful.”
