Queen of The Reapers by Jessa Halliwell
Seven
The second myskin touches the cold sheets next to me, I know something’s wrong. I open my eyes and wake up to an empty room cloaked in darkness. Tristan isn’t here and probably hasn’t been here for quite some time.
I glance at the clock on my marble nightstand and do a double take. 12:17 AM. We fell asleep around 9:30 PM, which means he couldn’t have slept for more than a couple of hours. Tristan promised that he’d stay with me tonight. Something must have happened for him to break that promise and leave like this. Something big.
Scrambling out of bed, I whip the black silk sheets to the floor, throw on an oversized band t-shirt, and march straight for the door. If something is going down, especially if that something involves my sister, I have to be there.
As soon as I grab the door handle and feel the resistance of the lock in place, my heart immediately sinks. The asshole locked me in. Again.
“Tristan!” I scream, slamming my balled fists against the wooden door. “Open the door!”
The pain in my palm kicks up, but I shake it off. I need to get out of here now.
“I know you’re out there.” I call out, getting more hysterical by the second. “Open the fuck up!”
Assuming he’s outside is a hunch, but I know the guys. Even if something is going on, they’d never leave me completely unprotected. Hell, they didn’t even leave me alone with their own staff.
I’m about to start another bout of yelling when I hear heavy footsteps approaching. Silence fills the air as unease creeps into my mind. Shit, what if it isn’t the guys?
I instinctively step back as my heart thunders in my chest. What if someone broke in and my dumb ass just put a huge target on my back? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Beep.
The second I hear the mechanical sound of the door unlocking, my worry instantly washes away. It has to be them. They’re the only ones with access cards. They don’t even give members of their own security team that kind of clearance. Staff still use regular keys and are only allowed access to certain spaces on the estate.
Giving the door just enough space to open, I’m ready to give whoever it is a mouthful, but I nearly choke on my words as the door swings open.
My eyes bulge as a complete stranger strolls into my room. He isn’t one of The Reapers, but that isn’t what catches me so off guard. The man is monstrous. A few inches shy of Tristan and Cyrus in height, but at least 1.5x their mass. While The Reapers maintain lean muscular physiques akin to The Greek Gods, this man has the body of a barbarian. Thick cords of muscle fill out the fitted herringbone slacks he wears and as he cocks his head, his golden brown brushed-back hair gleams in the pale moonlight. He relaxes his sharp, bearded jaw as his soft blue eyes scan the entire room before landing on me.
“Who are you?” I ask, looking at him accusingly.
They would never leave a stranger alone in their house like this. Let alone give him an access card. Who the hell is this guy?
“I could ask you the same.” He laughs with the tinge of a Russian accent. “I am many things for many people, but you can call me Dimitri.”
“Dimitri.” I say, drawing out his name as I cock a brow and assess him further.
He wears a freshly pressed white shirt that doesn't have a wrinkle in sight, a flashy diamond-encrusted Rolex watch on his wrist that's probably worth more than my old car, and a smug smirk on his golden tanned face that screams wealth and power. I’m not one to judge a book by its cover, but this man has Russian Mafia written all over him. Still, the question remains, is he a friend of The Reapers or a foe?
“Where are they?” I start, then almost immediately regret my question as soon as I see the hint of amusement in his blue eyes.
“Hmm.” He murmurs, his deep voice sinking into my bones. “They have some business to attend to, though I doubt they’d keep such a lovely creature waiting long.”
Despite his calm demeanor, something about his choice of words sets off warning bells in my head. Suddenly, I’m very aware of the fact that he and I are alone in this house and the only fabric covering my body is a thin white Aerosmith T-shirt.
“Oh, that’s right.” I say, dramatically slapping my forehead for emphasis. “Tristan mentioned he may have to work tonight. Thanks for opening the door, but I better get back to bed. He’d be so angry if I wandered off somewhere.”
Tristan mentioned nothing to me, but I can spot a predator when I see one. And the way his blue eyes follow my every move terrifies me. My best bet is to play up the ditzy girl act and hope he doesn’t see right through my bullshit. Tristan left me locked in here for a reason and I’m willing to bet that this asshole was it.
“Are you sure, Kroshka?” He asks, cocking his head with a strange glimmer in his blue eyes. “You seemed eager to escape only moments ago. Why the sudden change of heart?”
The swift change in his tone is jarring. One minute his voice is smooth, soothing even, but he coats the last question in ice. I try to remain calm, but there’s an undeniable threat behind his words and panic settles in.
“It’s okay, really.” I say, flashing him a smile I don’t feel as I move towards the door. “I just met him and I’d hate for him to think I was so dramatic the second he left. Could this just stay our little secret?”
Pretending I’m insignificant to Tristan is purely instinctive. Something about the way Dimitri stares tells me he is a very calculated man. It’s no accident that he’s here alone with me. He was snooping around the house because he knew no one would be here. Probably planned for it. He thought he was alone and now he’s trying to figure out what he should do with me. My best bet is to pretend like I’m an insignificant dot on his radar. “That’s disappointing.” He muses, slowly advancing towards me. “You didn’t strike me as a liar, Stevie Alexander. But I suppose looks can be very deceiving.”
I rear back and look at him, completely puzzled. How the hell does he know I’m lying? And more importantly, how does he know my name?
“You should leave.” I snap, forgoing the naïve act altogether. “Before you do something stupid.”
He stares daggers at me as he moves towards the exit. Inch by inch, I feel myself reluctantly shrink beneath his gaze. He’s just one man and I’ve faced much worse before, but his presence alone is terrifying.
Just before reaching the threshold, he pauses and leans into me. “I can smell your fear, Kroshka. Tell me, which is it that scares you most? That I’m still here, or that deep down, something within you doesn’t want me to leave?”
Before I can do anything to stop him, he whips around, grabs me by my waist and slams my body against the door, shutting it closed in one swift motion. The shock of what he’s doing and the sheer power behind his force muddles my mind, leaving me frozen in fear as he continues to speak.
“Don’t be shy.” He coaxes, pressing his hard cock into my stomach. “See? The feeling is very mutual. Look at what those deceitful lips have done to me and they aren't even wrapped around my cock yet.”
His vulgar words shake me out of my stupor and my hand whips across his face and slaps his cheek with a loud crack.
“Get the fuck off of me.” I hiss, trying to shove his large body away.
But Dimitri doesn’t budge, and his smile only grows wider.
“We both know that’s the last thing you want.” He grins, gathering my wrists in one large hand while his free hand travels down my body.
I try to wiggle and jerk out of his hold, but the more I struggle, the wider his vicious smile grows. I spit and I kick and I stomp and I knee, but fighting him only seems to make him crush my wrists harder.
I try to wiggle and jerk out of his hold, but the more I struggle, the wider his vicious smile grows. I spit and I kick and I stomp and I knee, but fighting him only seems to make him crush my wrists harder.
The second I feel a thick finger slip in between my legs, I want to cry. Not because of the violation, but because of the cocky smirk that spreads across his face the minute he touches the wetness seeping out of me.
“That’s more like it.” He coaxes, grazing his thumb against my sensitive clit as he slides another thick finger inside of me.
Despite hating every second of what he’s doing, my treacherous body writhes under his touch and he watches with cruel amusement at the involuntary reactions I’m trying desperately to fight.
You feel nothing. You feel nothing.
The sadistic gleam in his eyes terrifies me. This isn’t about my satisfaction. This is about proving a point. To who, I’m not sure. As far as he knows, I’m The Reapers’ girl, which means he knows how much shit he’ll be in when they find out. The asshole is either suicidal, or he has some insane ulterior motive.
I block out every spasm and jolt his vile fingers pull out of me until a hate filled orgasm rips through me. He relentlessly rubs my over-sensitized nub, but I refuse to show it on my face, even as wetness seeps down my leg and involuntary tears stream down my cheeks.
It isn’t until I feel his movements slow down that I know it’s over. He got what he wanted. He didn’t rape me, but with how disgusting I feel, he may as well have.
“All better?” He asks, smirking as he removes his fingers from my slick center and finally releases my wrists.
“Fuck you.” I hiss, my voice coated in venom.
I throw a solid punch to his jaw and my fist slams into the flesh of his cheek with a loud crack. He’s surprised by the hit and his head wildly jerks back before he’s able to recover.
“In due time, Kroshka.” He chuckles, rubbing his cheek as he moves me aside to open the door. “In due time.”
I don’t know what comes over me. I know I should stay quiet and cower away. I have no weapons, no real means to defend myself against this monster of a man, but all I can focus on is doing whatever I can to hurt him like he hurt me. To draw blood from that stupid, smug face of his.
“Hey!” I yell, chasing after him as he walks down the hallway. “We aren’t done here asshole, not by a long shot.”
I grab a hold of his elbow and jerk his gigantic body around to face me.
“They will find you, and when they do, you’ll wish you never laid a single fucking finger on me.”
Threatening him is irrational. He knew what he was doing and what the repercussions would be when he touched me, but I want to see his fear. I want him as terrified as I was.
“I know your men.” He says, brushing me off of him. “Better than you ever will. Trust me, Kroshka, there will be no love lost. Not over a toy, like you.”
“A toy?” I scoff, stepping in front of him to face him head on. “I’m a fucking person and I didn’t ask for any of that.”
“Refresh my memory.” He says, eyeing me up and down with a clear look of disdain. “Did you ever tell me to stop?”
No.
“Did you ever say no?” He presses further.
No, again.
“My point precisely.” He says, laughing at my silence. “You simply needed to say the word, but you didn’t. That, my sweet girl, was your truth. You don’t want to admit it, but your body craved my touch.”
I stare up at him for a few moments, at a complete loss for words.
This man is a fucking sociopath. A literally fucking sociopath.
As he moves to step away, I etch every single detail of his face into my brain. I want to know, beyond any doubt, that I have the right man when I come for him. And I will come for him. Whoever this Dimitri asshole really is, he’s a dead man.
“Before I forget,” He says, stopping a few inches past me. “If I were you, I’d keep this brief encounter of ours quiet. The Reapers are a valuable asset to The Organization and I’d hate for something to happen to them because their confused little toy foolishly threw herself at their boss.”
Their boss.
“Be sure to clean yourself up before your men get home.” He says, flashing me a cocky smirk. “I’m sure those possessive bastards would hate to see how wet another man can make their toy.”
And just like that, the rage within me boils over. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but we’re well beyond that now. How dare he threaten my men? How dare he insinuate that what he did was anything but assault? Dimitri foolishly thinks he can throw the weight of his position around and that it’ll intimidate me, but newsflash asshole, I don’t give a fuck what your job is. I’m not a part of The Organization and the only rules I abide by are my own.
I clench my fists so tightly they turn white. I’ve never been so enraged. Never felt so incredibly unhinged. If I had the power to, I would rip Dimitri apart limb by limb and he knows it. He stares at me again and for the first time, I see a glimmer of unease cross his face. Good motherfucker, you should be scared. I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I know one thing: Dimitri will die. And I’ll be the one smirking as he takes his final breath.
“We interrupting something?”
Cyrus.
At the sound of his voice, I freeze and shame flushes my cheeks almost immediately. I slowly turn around and come face to face with Tristan and Cyrus as they step onto the second floor landing. I know what it must look like to them. Even without a mirror in sight, I can tell my skin is flushed, my hair is mussed from trying to fight him off, and my knees are still wobbly from the orgasm he forced out of me.
“It’s not-” I stammer, struggling to find the right words.
“Relax, Kroshka.” Dimitri chastises, wrapping his arm around my waist in a gesture that is anything but friendly. If they didn’t already assume something happened, seeing his aggressive touch is the nail in the coffin. “The twins love sharing their toys. Isn’t that right, boys?”
Cyrus only stares at us, his brows furrowed in a mixture of rage and disbelief.
“Of course.” Tristan offers, his features smooth and his tone even. “What’s ours is yours, brother.”
Brother.
Rage boils in my blood and I can’t decide what angers me more. That they left me here alone with a stranger and basically just gave him the green light to fuck me or that, according to Dimitri, I am just one of many woman they’ve shared with him.
“I trust you’ve already taken care of our little problem?” Dimitri asks, flashing them a toothy grin.
“Atlas is on it.” Cyrus spits, his eyes solely focused on the hand still wrapped around my waist. “It wasn’t a four-man job after all.”
“What problem?” I ask, then almost immediately curse at myself for bringing the attention back to me.
A dark chuckle fills the room as Dimitri’s features morph in delight. I’m doing a real shit job of staying unseen. I look at Cyrus and Tristan, but their expressions are as unreadable as ever. What the fuck is going on?
“So curious.” Dimitri croons, patting my cheek. “Intriguing little thing, is she not?”
Cyrus scoffs and stares at me with pure disgust in his eyes.
“If you find that whole deer-in-the-headlights thing appealing.”
Why are they acting this way? Had they sobered up after everything that went down yesterday? Realized that being with me had caused them nothing but headache after headache.
“Yeah,” Dimitri says, licking his lips as he looks my body up and down. “Very mI dIf the twins notice Dimitri’s blatant ogling, they don’t show it. Instead, they focus their angry glares on me.
“What the f… fuck are you doing out of your cage, Pet?” Tristan asks, finally cocking his head in my direction. He says nothing else, but the bone-chilling look on his face speaks volumes. I’m terrified of the man glaring back at me, more scared than I ever thought I’d be. So scared that for a moment I forget he’s actually waiting for me to answer him.
“I… I was looking for you.” I hesitate, not wanting to dispel any information in front of Dimitri. “I thought something happened with that thing and I thought I could help.”
Cyrus snaps out of his trance and the bitter laugh he barks out rattles my bones.
“You thought you could help?” Cyrus scoffs, glaring at me with so much bored disinterest that it hurts. “No offense, Pet, but we have actual business to attend to. So why don’t you go back to your fucking crate like a good little toy and wait until we summon you.”
I walk back to my room, too deflated and hurt to bother trying to hide it. The last thing I see before Cyrus slams the door in my face is the satisfied grin on Dimitri’s brutish face as he mouths the words “Until next time… Pet.”