TAINTED LOVE: RIDING WITH THE DEVIL

AT THE MERCY OF THE REAPER

ISABELLA REYES

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

My heart hammered against my ribs as Rafe guided me out of the VIP section with a hand wrapped possessively around my waist, fingers digging in like a brand. My black dress felt even shorter now, and I was painfully aware of the cool air hitting the bare skin between my thighs. He had slid my soaked lace panties down my legs right there in the shadowed corner of the VIP lounge, eyes locked on mine with that dark, predatory smirk while I stood frozen in mortified arousal. Then he’d casually tucked them into the inner pocket of his leather cut like a trophy.

“These belong to me now,” he’d growled against my ear. I was still throbbing from his fingers.

Tonight should not be happening.

Rafael Voss — my terrifyingly cold billionaire CEO by day was the Reaper by night. And the Reaper was far scarier. The way he’d snarled at his man earlier, the raw violence in his voice… it should have sent me running. Instead, here I was, letting the devil himself lead me out of the club.

What if he finds out I’m her? The mousy assistant they call Ugly Betty. The girl in baggy cardigans and braces who brings him coffee. I’d die. Literally and figuratively.

Yet my body betrayed me with every step. I wanted him so badly it ached.

Outside, the rain had eased into a misty drizzle. Rafe pulled out his phone, voice low and commanding.

“Bring the car around. Now.” He didn’t even say please. Thirty seconds later, a sleek black Maybach glided up like it had been waiting in the shadows.

He bundled me into the backseat first, then slid in after me. The door had barely shut before the car pulled smoothly away from the curb.

“Penthouse,” he told the driver, then raised the privacy partition with a press of a button. It didn’t feel private enough.

"What about your bike?" I asked, as I wondered how the Maybach was even on standby.

"Don’t worry about it, Bella. It's safe,"

Rafe didn’t waste a single second.

He hauled me across the seat and onto his lap so I straddled him, my dress riding all the way up. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry, dominating, claiming. One big hand fisted in my hair while the other gripped my bare ass, pulling me down hard against the thick ridge of his erection straining through his leathers.

“f**k, Bella,” he groaned into my mouth. “Been hard since I first touched this p***y in the club. So wet for me already.”

I whimpered, cheeks burning with embarrassment because I knew the driver could probably hear every gasp and wet kiss.

“Rafe… the driver—”

“Don’t care,” he growled, biting my lower lip. “Let him hear how pretty you sound when you’re dripping for me.”

His hand slid between us. Two thick fingers pushed inside me without warning, curling deep. I cried out, burying my face in his neck as he pumped them slowly, deliberately, his thumb circling my swollen c**t. The wet, obscene sounds filled the backseat. I was mortified… and so turned on I could barely breathe.

“You’re clenching around my fingers like you’re starving for c**k,” he murmured, voice rough with lust. “Such a good girl. My innocent little secret.”

If only you knew how not-innocent I feel right now.

I rocked against his hand desperately, chasing the pleasure while fear and adrenaline spiked through me. This man could ruin me in every possible way; career, body, soul; and I was riding his fingers in the back of his luxury car like a woman who’d lost her mind.

By the time the Maybach pulled into the private underground garage of his tower, I was shaking on the edge of release. Rafe withdrew his fingers, brought them to his mouth, and licked them clean while staring straight into my eyes. The sight made my stomach flip.

We barely made it into the elevator.

The moment the doors closed, he had me pressed against the mirrored wall, lifting one of my legs around his hip as he ground his c**k against me. His mouth was on my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks.

“Mine tonight,” he repeated like a vow. “All f*****g mine.”

The penthouse was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the City’s glittering skyline, dark modern furniture that probably cost more than my entire life, original art on the walls, and a sleek open-plan design that screamed billionaire power. I caught only flashes of it as Rafe carried me inside like I weighed nothing.

No tour, no drinks, no small talk.

He kicked the door shut and had me on the massive island in the kitchen within seconds, my dress bunched around my waist. His leather cut hit the floor, followed by his shirt, revealing the full terrifying glory of his inked, muscled torso. The coiled viper tattoo seemed to watch me as he freed his heavy c**k from his pants.

“Rafe, wait —” I started, suddenly overwhelmed.

He leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other guiding his thick length along my slick folds.

“No waiting, baby. You feel how hard you made me?” He pushed the head inside, stretching me. “This is happening.”

I gasped at the burn, the overwhelming fullness as he sank deeper in one slow, relentless thrust. He was big; almost too big, and the dangerous intensity in his storm-grey eyes pinned me harder than his body did.

“f**k… so tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to mine. “Perfect little pussy.”

Then he started moving deep, powerful strokes that rocked the island and stole my breath. I clung to his broad shoulders, nails digging into his back as pleasure bordered on pain. Every thrust felt possessive, claiming, and dangerous.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice rough. “I want to watch you come apart on my cock.”

I did. And I did come apart hard, crying out his name as the orgasm ripped through me. He didn’t stop. He f****d me through it, then carried me to the bedroom, dropping me onto silk sheets. The silk sheets felt cool against my overheated skin as Rafe dropped me onto his massive bed. The bedroom was pure power with dark walls, a wall of glass overlooking the glittering city, and a four-poster bed that looked like it had been built for exactly this. For him.

I barely had time to catch my breath before he was on me.

“Hands above your head,” he ordered, voice low and commanding. Not a request. A command.

My arms obeyed before my brain could catch up. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a pair of sleek black leather cuffs lined with soft fur. My eyes widened.

“Rafe… I’ve never—”

“I know.” He caught my wrists, buckling them efficiently to a discreet ring hidden in the headboard. The click of the locks sent a dark thrill racing through me. “Tonight you don’t get to touch unless I allow it. You don’t get to come unless I say. You’re going to learn what it means to surrender, Bella.”

Being restrained like this... naked, legs spread, completely at the mercy of the most dangerous man I knew, should have sent me into full panic. Instead, heat flooded between my thighs. My treacherous body was dripping for him.

He stood at the foot of the bed, slowly unbuckling his belt, eyes devouring every inch of me. The Reaper was fully in control now. No trace of the polished CEO. Just raw, tattooed dominance.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice rough with approval. “Tied up in my bed like a perfect little gift. Still scared?”

“Yes,” I whispered honestly, tugging lightly at the cuffs. The leather held firm.

“Good.” He crawled over me, fully naked now, every hard muscle and inked line on display. The viper on his chest seemed to coil as he moved. “Fear makes it sweeter.”

He kissed me brutally, then worked his way down, teeth grazing my throat, sucking hard on my n*****s until I arched and whimpered. When he reached my soaked center, he spread my thighs wider and looked up at me with those storm-gray eyes.

“You don’t come until I tell you. Understand?”

I nodded frantically.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes… Sir,” I breathed, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

His dark smile was devastating.

“Good girl.”

Then his mouth was on me. Tongue, lips, and teeth devouring my p***y with merciless skill. Two thick fingers pushed deep inside, curling against that spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. I cried out, hips bucking, but he pinned me down with one strong arm across my lower belly, forcing me to take every sensation.

I was right on the edge, trembling, when he pulled back completely.

“No... please—” I whimpered, desperate.

He slapped my inner thigh sharp, stinging. The shock made me moan louder.

“What did I say about coming?” he growled.

I was panting, tears of frustration pricking my eyes.

“Not until you say…”

He rewarded me by sliding back up my body and feeding his thick c**k between my lips.

“Suck,” he commanded, fisting my hair. I did, eagerly, messily, while he f****d my mouth in controlled thrusts, praising me in that rough voice.

“That’s it. Take it like a good little slut for me.”

The degradation mixed with the praise made my head spin. I’d never been spoken to like this, never wanted it until now.

He pulled out suddenly, flipped me onto my stomach with my wrists still cuffed above me, and yanked my hips up. The position left me completely exposed.

The first hard smack landed on my ass. I yelped.

“Count them.”

“One!” I gasped.

Another. Harder.

“Two... ah!”

By the time he reached ten, my ass was burning and my p***y was clenching around nothing. I was a dripping, whimpering mess.

Rafe gripped my hips and slammed into me in one brutal thrust. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but so good. He set a punishing rhythm, one hand fisted in my hair, the other reaching around to torment my c**t.

“Whose p***y is this?” he growled, pounding into me.

“Yours—” I sobbed, the pleasure bordering on overwhelming.

“Louder.”

“Yours, Rafe! Yours... please—”

He pulled my head back, teeth sinking into my shoulder as he f****d me harder. The power imbalance was intoxicating. This man could destroy my life with a phone call, and right now he owned every inch of my body. The fear only made the pleasure sharper.

He reached up and unclipped one cuff, only to flip me onto my back again. This time he hooked my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half as he drove even deeper.

“You’re going to come on my c**k now,” he commanded, thumb pressing hard on my c**t. “Right f*****g now.”

The orgasm crashed over me like a violent wave. I screamed, body convulsing, walls clamping down around him. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow, chasing his own release with deep, possessive strokes until he buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, filling me.

For a moment, the only sounds were our ragged breathing.

He stayed inside me as he reached up and released my other wrist, then gathered me against his chest. His hand stroked possessively down my back, over my stinging ass, soothing and claiming at the same time.

“You did so well, baby,” he murmured, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to my temple. “But we’re nowhere near done. I’m keeping you here all night.”

I shivered in his arms, equal parts terrified and exhilarated.

What have I done?

The billionaire CEO was already intimidating. The Reaper was something else entirely, and I had just willingly handed him complete control over my body… while hiding the biggest secret of my life.

If he ever discovered I was Ugly Betty, the mousy assistant from his office…

I didn’t even want to imagine what this dangerously dominant man would do.

.

The night blurred into heat, sweat, and raw need. He took me again and again, slow and teasing, then hard and punishing, his hand fisted in my hair, his mouth whispering filthy praise and dark promises against my skin.

Every moan reminded me how risky this was. Every thrust made me forget why I should be terrified. And every time he growled “Mine,” a treacherous part of me wondered how long I could keep my secret before the Reaper discovered exactly who he was ruining so beautifully.