The Reaper's Mate

by Celia Aaron

  CHAPTER THREE

  MATHIEU

  SHE FEELS IT THE same as I do. The pull. The need for me. I follow her, unable to do anything else. The need to claim her aches in my chest, but I want her to feel safe. I want her to know it’s me, her mate, that claims her. So, I’ll follow her swaying hips, her round ass, and her shapely legs wherever necessary. Then, once I complete her little task, I’ll claim her delicious body and take her to her new home. Easy.

  She glares at me over her shoulder as we exit the ballroom, her aura flaring and popping. “Stop following me!”

  “You don’t want my help?”

  “Shit.” She shakes her head, as if to clear it. “Yes, I do. You’re just making me …” She throws her hands up, the nails painted a light pink.

  Pink reminds me of her nipples. I could see their shape through her top. What color pink would they be? Light or dusky? My already-hard cock surges at my imaginings. In the end, their color doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they will be in my mouth as I sink myself between her legs. I groan at the thought.

  “What was that?” She tosses me a look as we hurry past the catering staff.

  “Nothing.”

  Some of them ogle her, and I want to destroy them. The desire to grab my scythe and cut the men down is only overshadowed by my need to stay close to her. Laying them to waste can’t happen … Yet. I pin each of them with a hard look as we pass.

  “Fabulous party, darling!” An older woman in a Cleopatra costume calls from across the kitchen.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Trevor. Everything to your liking?” Annabelle’s voice remains bright, though her aura darkens the slightest bit. Cleopatra stresses her out for some reason.

  “Very well done. I think the only thing we lack is more champagne.” She snags a chocolate covered strawberry and runs her tongue along it while giving me a pointed stare. “And maybe a few more handsome fellows like that one with you.”

  “I’m on it.” Annabelle takes a few more steps and stops. “I mean I’m on the champagne, not on the men.” She coughs.

  “No judgment here, darling.” She eats another strawberry with lascivious gusto, and I’ve never pitied fruit more.

  “I’ll be back in just a moment, Mrs. Trevor. Please enjoy your party.”

  “Oh, I am.” She leers at me and tongues a strawberry.

  I follow Annabelle out into the alley where a woman in a pixie costume waits at the rear of a delivery truck.

  “Thank fuck! My cooch is like ice.” The pixie hops from one foot to the next, but stops with one foot in the air when she sees me. “Holy shit, who’s the god?”

  “We aren’t gods, technically. The mother of all reapers—my mother Lyandra—is an angel.”

  Annabelle shoots me a look over her shoulder. “You sound insane. You know that right?”

  I begin to wonder if I might start our mating off with a spanking. A smile overtakes me at the thought of her bare skin beneath my hand.

  “That smile only makes it worse.” She turns away and walks the few steps down to her friend.

  I stare at her ass, barely hidden from me by her short, white skirt. I want to sink my teeth into it after turning it red with my palm. The mark on my chest burns, urging me onward to claim her and finish the ritual that will make her mine for eternity.

  “You are enormous. Are the goods down below as big?” The pixie gawks at me, her eyes wide.

  “Vera!” Annabelle rubs her upper arms, and I realize she must be cold. I’ve let my mate grow cold. Disappointment stabs through me, and I hurry to her and wrap her in my arms.

  “Hey.” She tries to move away, but I keep her close, giving her what little warmth I have. I love the sizzle of her aura as I press my cock against her back. She can’t hide her arousal from me.

  Her scent floats around me, and I can’t stop touching her. My hands rove her waist, around to her soft, feminine stomach, then lower to her hips.

  “He’s definitely got a thing for you, boss.” The pixie grins up at me.

  “He’s like a rash I can’t get rid of.” Annabelle’s tone is testy, but I can sense her melting.

  My cock demands I throw her down and claim her. Not yet.

  “So.” The pink-haired pixie points to the padlock on the back of the truck. “How are we going to get the booze out?”

  Annabelle leans forward to inspect it, and I get an enticing view of a white thong peeking out above her skirt. I want it in my mouth where it belongs.

  “Maybe we could call a locksmith or something? Or do you think the hotel might have a crowbar somewhere?”

  I reach past my curvy angel, grip the handle mechanism, and yank. The lock disintegrates as the door of the truck shoots upward and stops with a clank.

  The pixie backs up a step and looks from the truck to me and back again. “Holy shit!”

  I bend down and press my lips to Annabelle’s ear. “Are we done here?”

  “Boss, I was just coming to find you.” A man walks toward us from the end of the alley.

  I grab Annabelle’s waist and pull her into me. No one will come between my mate and me. I’ll cut down any man who tries to get in the way, even if taking a life out of turn is a one-way ticket to Hades. It would be worth it.

  “Whoa, down boy.” My curvy angel grabs my wrists and turns around to face me. “I’m going to need you to keep your hands to yourself for a few minutes while I handle this, okay?”

  “Not okay.” I stare into her sparkling blue eyes, and the urge to taste her plump lips almost overwhelms me.

  The man approaches my elbow. “Sorry, I had a, um. There was this, uh—”

  “I don’t give a shit about your excuses. Get the champagne moving now, or you’re fired. Got me?” I didn’t think it was possible, but the take-charge tone of her voice turns me on even more.

  “Yes, boss. I apologize.” The man stares at his shoes.

  “Where’s Marco?” She doesn’t seem to know it, but her small hands are pressed to my chest, her thumbs caressing me slowly.

  I love the feeling of her against me. Can she sense the bond like I can?

  The pixie stares as Annabelle continues rubbing my chest over my black tunic. I would have thought the waifish pixie cute only a few hours ago. But now, the thought is abhorrent. Only Annabelle, she’s the sole female I will ever want. And right now, I want—no, need—to be inside her. I’ve freed the champagne from the truck as she requested, so now we need to move along to being naked together with my cock firmly embedded in what I’m certain is the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted.

  “Who’s the mountain?” The man hitches a thumb at me. A thumb I want to break.

  “He’s—” She catches my gaze and pulls her hands away. Color rises along her cheeks, as if she realizes she’s been stroking me in front of the pixie and the man. “I’ve never actually gotten your name.”

  “Mathieu Tobias Gindriel Halcyon Scythian.”

  My mate glances to the pixie, who gives her a look of chagrin. “Okay, let’s go with Matt.” Annabelle turns back to the man. “This is Matt. Where is Marco?”

  The man scratched his head. “I’m not sure—”

  I shoot my hand out and grip him by the throat. “No one lies to my mate.”

  His dark eyes begin to bug as I squeeze and lift him off the ground.

  “Put him down!” Annabelle beats on my forearm.

  I lower him to the pavement. “Try another answer. If you lie to her again, these will be the last words you utter.” My hands itch for the smooth elm handle of my scythe.

  The man cowers and presses his hands to his throat. “Upstairs, room seven-thirty-two.”

  “Vera, handle the booze. Luigi, step out of line again, and you’re gone.” Annabelle puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll go fire Marco. It’s too late for him.”

  “Got it.” The pixie nods and hikes a leg to climb into the back of the truck. For the first time in my immortal life, I avert my eyes. This mating thing is no joke. I can’t ev
en look at another woman.

  You have to take her soul. I ignore the dark thought. But the midnight chimes begin to sound all over the Quarter, and I realize I only have a little more than three hours with my mate before her time is over.

  But does it have to be? If I refuse to take her soul, then she’ll stay here. The idea lights a fire in me. I’ll save her from the drunk driver, and her soul will be safe. I know the penalty for failing to reap a soul when it’s time, but I don’t care. My mate will never know the sting of death. I will see to it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ANNABELLE

  DESPITE MY EFFORTS, MATT refuses to stay downstairs at the party while I handle business with Marco. So, we’re riding the elevator together. The door closes, and he starts crowding me.

  “Can we just, I don’t know, ride the elevator without touching?” The words feel wrong as they tumble from my tongue. Which is odd. Because it’s what I should be saying. But it’s not what I want.

  “Why?” He walks toward me until my back hits the wall. He’s huge, and gorgeous, and the grim reaper outfit is shutting off all the lights in my brain while lighting up every nerve ending between my thighs.

  “It’s just that I don’t even know you. And you have those eyes. You move fast, too fast. I’m not sure—”

  “I am.”

  “What?” I peer up at him, and staring into his face is like looking into a dream that’s half frightening, half turn-on. He strokes my cheek with this thumb. Okay, maybe three quarters turn-on.

  I should push him away, but I don’t. I can’t seem to control myself when he’s close.

  “Who are you?”

  “I told you my name.” He brushes my hair behind my ear, and I lean hard against the wall of the elevator.

  “No, but really. Your eyes. Your—your everything. It’s like you aren’t…” I stop myself before I say something crazy.

  He tilts my chin up, so I get another stunning view of the light eyes and unbelievable pupils. “I’m yours.”

  “What?” I can’t catch my breath. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. I’m yours.”

  “In the alley, you called me your mate. What did that mean?”

  He leans closer, his lips so close to mine. “That you and I are bound together by fate.”

  The elevator stops and pings. I dart around him and out the opening doors. But, as I’ve learned, I can’t get away from him. He’s already at my side even though it should be impossible for him to move that fast.

  My earpiece is on a constant crackle, likely because of the distance from the main signal seven floors below. I pull it out along with the small microphone attached to it. My heels sink into the carpet as I walk down the hall at a brisk pace. Maybe if I can walk fast and handle Marco, then I’ll feel like I’m in control of this party, my feelings, and the situation with the strange man who walks silently at my elbow.

  “You didn’t have to come with me for this. It’s probably going to get ugly.” I count off the rooms until I reach Marco’s.

  “I won’t leave you. You’re mine.”

  A door to my right opens, and Mr. Trevor stumbles into the hallway with two young women following behind him. The night just keeps getting better.

  “Annabelle, what are you doing up here?” He tries to right himself, but only manages it when one blonde bimbo takes his arm.

  “Come on, Daddy.” She’s dressed like a little girl and can’t be twenty-one. He’s three times her age.

  I wish I could turn around, walk away, and un-see all of it.

  Mr. Trevor’s eyes narrow. “You won’t say a word about this to my wife.”

  “No sir.” I shake my head and try to maneuver past the second woman, but she’s too high to realize she’s standing in the middle of the hallway with one breast hanging out of her top.

  Mr. Trevor steps toward me. “If you even think of talking—”

  His voice breaks as Matt grabs his wrist and forces Mr. Trevor to his knees.

  “Don’t touch her.” Matt’s voice drips venom. He keeps one hand on my waist as he leans forward and forces Mr. Trevor lower.

  “Matt, please.” I won’t lie—I enjoy the fear in Mr. Trevor’s eyes, especially since he was mid-threat when my self-appointed body guard took him down. But I don’t want anyone getting hurt, especially not my client. “Let him go.”

  Matt’s growl vibrates against my back as he throws Mr. Trevor’s wrist out of his grip like it’s a piece of trash. “Never touch her.”

  Mr. Trevor falls back against the wall and stares up at Matt. “I won’t.”

  “Get out of my sight.” Matt wraps his arm around my middle and hauls me back against him.

  Mr. Trevor scrambles to his feet and leans on his girls as he makes good time down the hall away from us.

  “I’m fucked.” I sag against Matt, who holds me up as if I weighed nothing. “I’m so fucked.”

  “What? Do I need to handle him?” He turns me around so I face him. “Say the word, Angel.”

  “Handle him?” I can’t comprehend what he’s offering. “The way you wanted to handle the bozos downstairs?”

  “Exactly like that. Yes.” He lifts me until I’m eye level with him. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm you.”

  My breath catches in my throat as his gaze flickers to my lips.

  “You’re mine.” He presses forward, and when his mouth meets mine, all confusion is blasted away and replaced with heat.

  I’ve been kissed before. My virginity has been gone for years. No, I never found the right guy to settle down with, but who needs one when they make all these amazing vibrating toys? Matt’s kiss makes me realize the error of my ways. He walks forward until I’m pressed against the wall, then slides one hand under my ass, holding me steady as his mouth does wicked things.

  I moan when he palms my breast. His growl returns, but this time it’s a sensual purr that sets my nipples on high alert. He slides his fingers across the bottom of my thigh to my pussy. I squirm when I realize my panties are already soaked to an embarrassing degree.

  When his finger makes contact with the satin, he tenses and breaks the mind-blowing kiss.

  I’m mortified, too afraid to open my eyes. “I can just, um. If you’ll put me down, I’ll go.”

  He slides the material to the side and sinks a thick finger inside me. My back arches, and I gasp. I open my eyes and he’s all I can see, his pupils swirling faster with even more beautiful pin pricks of light.

  “You will never leave me. Never.” He thrusts his finger inside me for emphasis. “I’ll die before I’ll let you go.”

  I writhe at the sensation of his finger rubbing my spot.

  The elevator dings down the hallway and male voices echo. Matt turns his head, then yanks me off the wall, and grabs the door handle to the nearest room. With a small push, he breaks the inner locking mechanism and carries me inside. The room is unoccupied, and he slams the door behind him.

  No hesitation, he carries me to the bed and lays me down. He prowls on top of me, his lips on mine and one of his hands tangling in my hair. His erection presses against my thigh. He’s pushed me from zero to sixty in the space of a few moments. This is reckless, dumb even. But I can’t stop. My mind is on auto-pilot, and my body is desperate for everything he has to offer.

  I go wild—clawing and pulling at his robe as it pools around me on the bed. I’m desperate to get closer to him, to feel his heat against me. Why do I get the feeling that I’ll never get enough of him?

  I open my mouth wider and he groans in satisfaction and yanks my hair so that I have to arch up to him. He’s so hard, as if his body is made of marble. I wonder what’s beneath the clothes and run my hands down his back.

  He leans away from me and gets to his feet. “Don’t move.”

  With a flick of his wrists he pushes the hood back from his head. Smooth raven hair tickles the tops of his ears, and I’ve never seen a more handsome face.

  “You’re be
autiful.”

  He smiles, and the dimples give him a boyishness that makes my heart fall on its face. “I’m nothing compared to you.”

  What? I sit up and try to clear the haze of lust. No man I’ve ever been with has ever said anything like that. I have confidence, okay? Plenty. I know I’m smart and a go-getter. But the body compliments he’s serving up are so far from how I see myself that I can’t square the two.

  “Is this some sort of trick?” Anger creeps into my words. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “That’s the idea, yes.” He pulls the blade from his back and leans it against the wall.

  I rise to my feet, embarrassment heating my blood. “I’m leaving.”

  “No.” He unbuttons his shirt with inhuman speed, then spreads it wide.

  I stare at the hard muscles, the perfect nipples that I’d love to bite. But then my eyes are drawn to the flesh over his heart, and my knees threaten to buckle.

  “Wh-where did you get that ink?” I point, and he takes my trembling hand in his.

  “It’s not a tattoo. It’s the mark of my mate.”

  “What?” The room begins to spin. The mark on his chest—I know it. I doodle it anytime I get bored. Every notebook from my high school and college days has some iteration of that mark. An intricate array of swirls and dots, it became my signature to the point where I’d gotten it inked on my lower back. I slide my hand around to it. The mark is hot, practically burning.

  Matt takes my palm and presses it to the mark on his chest. “We’re bound. I’m your fated mate. I was sent to claim your soul, but I swear to you now that I will never claim your soul or willingly allow anyone else to claim it.”

  “What?”

  “That is my oath, and a reaper’s word is unbreakable.”

  I shake my head. There’s nothing else to do when you meet a person as insane as Matt must be.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MATHIEU

  “HOW LONG HAVE YOU been stalking me?” She struggles against my hold, and damn if her fight doesn’t turn me on more. The spanking I’d pondered earlier resurfaces.