Reaper's Justice

Reaper’s Justice

Charlotte Boyett-Compo Reaper’s Justice is set in the world of the WesternWind series, but can be read as a standalone story.

Kasid Jaborn never thought he would find his soul mate. He had given up hope of ever knowing the gentleness of a woman’s hand upon his body. Locked down behind the steel doors of the Reaper compound, Kasid runs into the one woman destined to be his. In the sweltering heat of the closed building where the Citadel’s air-conditioning has failed and tempers are beginning to flare red-hot, Kasid and his ladylove start their own raging inferno.

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Reaper’s Justice ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Reaper’s Justice Copyright © 2010 Charlotte Boyett-Compo Edited by Mary Moran Cover art by Syneca Electronic book Publication March 2010 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

REAPER’S JUSTICE

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Reaper’s Justice

Chapter One The Citadel

Kasid Jaborn came awake with a start. The tattoo on his left arm was burning as though it were being freshly applied. He swung his legs from the bed to stare at the tat. His Reaper night vision was sharp as a shard of glass and the flesh around the viper was red and raw, weeping blood. “By the Prophets!” he growled and ran his hand over the laser-etched tattoo, expecting his palm to come away wet with blood. However, there was no blood. His skin was smooth and dry. Black brows slashing together fiercely, he rolled his shoulder for the burning pain of the fiery red welt around the tat hurt like hell. “Why the hell are you hurting me now?” he snarled. The tat was over two hundred years old and shouldn’t be throbbing as though it was new. Springing from the bed, he stomped into the bath, cursing under his breath. After flipping on the light, he thrust his arm under the faucet at the sink and turned the cold water on full blast. Yet the scorching agony remained. The Reaper groaned. Not from the pain—he’d been trained to endure pain—but from sheer frustration. Not once in all the years since he’d had the prophets-be-damned thing etched into his skin had he felt any sensation from it. As much as he hated the tat and that for which it stood, it had never bothered him until now. “It’s her,” he said between clenched teeth. “It’s because she noticed it.” And had recoiled, he thought as he jerked his arm from the sink. Growling brutally, he twisted the handle of the faucet to stop the flow of water then snatched a towel from the bar. 5

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“She thinks me a monster,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arm in the soft cotton. Sinking to the bathroom floor, he slumped against the wall. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” he cursed, beating his head hard against the cool tile. “I am a monster and she knows it!” Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how he looked at it—she was the One. He knew it to the very marrow of his bones, yet he’d scared her away. She was his Destined, his soul mate, the only woman he could ever love. She—who would have been the only woman with whom he could ever lay—was lost to him, beyond his reach. “Justice,” he whispered, seeing her in his mind’s eye. The fierce scowl on his dark face softened and he repeated her beautiful name, drawing it out like a caress. “Justice.” Dark auburn hair worn to her hips, black eyes that were as clear as the waters of the deepest mountain stream and a face so lovely it made him ache all over just thinking of it. She was all he could have ever wanted in a female. She completed him. The problem was she didn’t know it. “And never will now,” he spat. Drawing up his legs, he hung his head, ignoring the blazing pain searing into his arm. The agony in his heart was much worse than any physical hurt. He went back over their meeting, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he had wrecked his future. Like pressing his tongue to a sore tooth, he worried it in his mind, going over every detail, resurrecting everything he said, he did, until that fateful moment he had rolled up the sleeve of his black silk uniform shirt.

***** Hot. Reaper body temperature was much higher than that of a human male and when one felt the heat, it was sweltering. The corridor felt like the inside of an oven. He was sweating profusely, the black silk clinging to his flesh as he headed for the Reapers’ dining room. Because of the 6

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lockdown ordered by the Triune Goddess, no windows in the Citadel could be opened, no door set ajar to catch a breeze, no vents open to allow in fresh air. The machine that made the artificially cool air that circulated through the huge fortress had ceased to work and now the building was like an inferno. Everyone was on edge, testy, snapping like dogs over a bone. Tempers were beginning to erupt—even among the Reader team. Already in a bad mood, hungry, itching to put his fist through Prime Reaper Arawn Gehdrin’s face, Kasid was glaring at the tiles beneath his boots. It was his keen sense of smell that brought his head up for the scent of gardenia suddenly filled his nostrils. She was a vision as she came toward him. Dressed in a dark green gown, her copper-colored shoulders were bared by the gathered elastic bodice of the garment. Full breasts swaying gently as her hips rolled enticingly, she was barefoot, her toes painted a deep scarlet. “Rom,” he said softly. “She’s Rom.” He came to a halt as though at the end of a tether as she drew near. The white of her teeth in her dusky face when she smiled made his knees weak. “Milord Kasid,” she said, inclining her head slightly. She stopped a few feet away and the scent of the gardenia perfume invaded his lungs and drove like an arrow to his cock, instantly hardening it. Swallowing the sudden dryness that coated his mouth in a cotton sheath, he had to clear his throat before speaking. “You have me at a disadvantage, milady,” he said, trying to keep his eyes from devouring her. As it was his gaze dipped to her bosom and he all but fell to his knees when he noticed the hard buttons of her nipples pressing against the bodice of her gown. “Justice,” she supplied. “Justice Vadim. I was named for the Eighth Virtue.” He tested the name on his tongue—unaware he’d spoken in a reverent tone until he felt the heat infuse his cheeks. He cleared his throat again. “Kasid Jaborn,” he said and

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would have groaned if he hadn’t caught himself in time. Of course she knew who he was! he thought with acute mortification. She had called him by name. “You are from the Diamhair Galaxy, are you not?” she inquired. Her ruby lips formed the words, her voice as sweet as that of an angel. “Akhkharu, is it?” “I am from Akhkharu,” he said with an emphatic nod. This time he was unable to stop the groan from erupting. “My father is the stable master,” she said as though she hadn’t heard his stupid blunder. “Your horse is magnificent.” Her tongue came out to curl over her bottom lip. “I believe him to be the handsomest of all the Reaper stallions.” “Araibis?” he asked and had the urge to dig the toe of his boot into the tile like an embarrassed schoolboy. “He’s just a horse.” He bit his tongue then hurried to assure her he was a good horse though. “He is Rysalian, is he not?” “Aye. The goddess gave him to me.” “I’m sure he’s a good mount?” The word sent a shiver down his spine. It conjured steamy sexual encounters beneath red silk sheets. It spoke of thrusting hard cock and welcoming soft sheath. It hinted of heated couplings and scarlet fingernails raking down his back, bracketing his hips, grazing his rod. It offered sweet moist lips wrapped around an aching cock and he could almost taste the spicy fluids sliding along his questing tongue as he lapped at her core. It whispered, take me, take me and do what you will. “Lord Kasid?” The Reaper shook himself, flinging a hand up to erase the vivid image of their bodies locked together in a heated embrace. “Are you all right?” she asked. She put a hand to his shoulder and he jumped back, feeling as though he’d been struck by a lightning bolt that made his toes tingle.

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“Milord, I am sorry!” she said, realizing her mistake. No one dared to touch a Reaper without his express permission. “I meant no offense!” Kasid stared wide-eyed at her. It wasn’t offense that was careening through his system but the knowledge that—at long last—he had found the One—the Chosen One. The woman the goddess had created just for him and had decreed be his was standing in front of him at long last, her lips trembling with what he knew was fear that he would punish her for her presumption. “No, milady, no,” he said, shaking his head wildly. “You gave no offense. You are… You are…” He backed away from her, suddenly so heated he thought his uniform would burst into flames. He reached up to snag the knot of his leather tie, working it loose from his neck, gasping for every labored breath he dragged into his lungs. “You are…” He could not find the words to tell her that she was his woman. There would be no other man for her as long as he drew breath. Any man who touched her after today would die horribly at his hands. Sweat poured down his temples, from beneath his arms, and his shirt stuck like glue to his skin. He ran the first three buttons open with quick flicks of his wrist then reached for his cuff. It felt to him that if he could not get at least a small amount of air flowing over his superheated body, he would spontaneously combust right there before her. He unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow and at that moment she saw the viper coiled upon his forearm. “Ghoret!” she cried out, black eyes wide. “Aye, but…” He got no further for she turned and fled, her bare feet slapping against the marble, long hair and skirts swaying as she ran. “Justice, wait! I’m not one of Raphian’s minions!” he yelled after her, but she had already turned the corner and was out of sight.

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“Way to win friends and influence possible relievers of pent-up lust,” someone mumbled, and Kasid spun around—fists clenched and ready to do battle. “Whoa, fella! It was just a joke.” Kasid clamped his mouth tightly shut to keep from verbally lashing his fellow Reaper, Phelan Kiel. He forced his hands to relax, took several deep breaths then raised his chin. “She is not a reliever of pent-up lust,” he said forcefully. “She is the One.” “The one?” Phelan repeated, brow furrowed. “What do you mean she’s…?” He stopped, one dark brow slashing upward. “You mean the One?” “I knew as soon as she touched me, but she saw the tattoo and ran,” Kasid said miserably. Phelan’s amber gaze dropped to the offending tat. He plowed a careless hand through his hair. “Well, I admit it isn’t as stylish as my owl, but I’m at a loss to know why it scared her enough to make her shriek like that. I thought you’d insulted her somehow.” “It is evil, this tattoo,” Kasid snarled. He rubbed at the offending mark. He had tried to cut it out of his flesh but it had only grown back along with the layer of skin he’d flayed from his arm. “It is the Signiat of Raphian.” “It is also the Signiat of re-birth and great sexual prowess,” Phelan reminded him. “It was not given to me by the goddess but by the immoral Ceannus. It is a mark of shame.” Phelan shrugged. “It marks you as a Reaper, my friend. If we don’t have a problem with it, humans have no right to.” “But she is my Chosen, Phe!” Kasid said, irritated that his voice sounded like that of a whiny old man.

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“Then don’t sweat it,” Kiel said. “If she’s your destined, Morrigunia will put things to right.” He slapped a comforting hand on his fellow Reaper’s shoulder then continued on his way. “Are you sure the goddess will put things to right?” Kasid called after him but Kiel didn’t respond. Instead, he threw up a careless hand in answer.

***** Kasid pushed up from the bathing room floor and walked to the sink. The burning had lessened but it was still there to remind him of the evil done to him so long ago, that marked him as something more—or less—than human. He reluctantly raised his eyes to the mirror—thinking to see the dead man he had been glaring back at him. Instead, the reflection that greeted him was the same as it was every morning when he closely trimmed his thick beard. Thick, black curly hair framed a dark copper complexion that was set off by the vivid amber glow of his eyes beneath bushy brows. There was pudginess to his face that he didn’t like but that was better in his view than the rail-thin version of himself before he had met his fate to the Ceannus’ blade. Then he had been almost emaciated, every rib showing beneath his worn robe, his cheekbones gaunt, dark circles beneath his lusterless eyes. “I was an ugly dude back in the day,” he said aloud and almost smirked. Staring into his own eyes—that had once been as black as pitch but were now the color of rich honey—he remembered the Ceannus throwing him into a rolling cage alongside his twin, Khnum.

“We are among the Chosen, little brother!” Khnum bragged. “Why are you complaining?” “This can not be happening. I am a novice at the monastery. I am to be a Brother of the Wind. I—”

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“You are to be a balgair,” Khnum cut him off. “Together, you and I will help the Masters eradicate the Reapers on Terra and see mankind on its knees before the Ceannus!” “No,” Kasid denied. “I will not work for those who worship Raphian, the Destroyer of Men’s Souls. I have dedicated my life to works of good, not evil.”

Kasid sighed deeply and he turned from the mirror. His protests had fallen on deaf ears. The Ceannus—an evil band of scientists from a far galaxy—had plunged a knife into his heart, drained the life from him then implanted a hellion into his back. The hellion, the revenant worm, had brought him back to life. He was now host to the thing that had nested into his kidney and laid her honeycomb of fledglings that gave him his powers. The pain when he had transitioned from man to wolf-like creature had been nearly unbearable and once he changed back to human form, he knew life as he had known it was no more. Within an hour, he and fifty others were on their way through time and space to the distant world called Terra. Khnum had embraced the wickedness of the Masters but Kasid had not. The first chance he got, he fled the Ceannus’ camp and made his way to the Citadel, the fortress ran by the Shadowlords and home to the immortal Reapers. “It was the good instilled in me that saved my soul,” he muttered as he went back into his bedroom and slumped on the bed. “Khnum’s evil claimed his when he became balgair.” Two sides of the same coin, his grandfather had once said. One born to do evil, the other born to do good. Though he had to prove himself to both the Shadowlords and the Reapers, he was now a part of that elite corps of lawmen who patrolled the Serenian Territories. He was an immortal shapeshifter who needed blood to thrive and who had a symbiotic relationship with the revenant worm that made him what he was. He could change into lupine and avian form but not viper and for that he was grateful to the Triune Goddess Morrigunia, the Patroness of the Reapers. 12

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“And the voice of your conscience.” Kasid was startled by the sweet voice so close to his ear. He swallowed hard, fearing turning his head to look at the goddess. “It wasn’t the tattoo that frightened her, Kasid,” Morrigunia said. Bright red hair shown like a blazing campfire and piercing green eyes stabbed straight into his heart. She was the most beautiful woman to ever step down from the vault of heaven and the mere sight of Her made him hard. “Go to her,” the goddess ordered with a careless wave of Her hand. “She awaits you.” With that, She vanished in a plume of copper-colored smoke that smelled of sweetbriar. Not a man to question authority, Kasid sprang from his bed and rushed to the door. He had it open before he realized he was naked. “That won’t do,” he grumbled and flashed his palm from forehead to groin and the black Reaper uniform covered him in the blink of an eye. He would pass even the High Lord Ben-Alkazar’s strict inspection. As he walked, he held his head high, his chin forward. After all, he was going to claim his mate and that was something a Reaper did only once in his lifetime.

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Chapter Two The palms of her hands were sweating as she paced. Already she had spoken to her father, her mother, her sister—but most importantly—her grandmother. The entire clan was awake and waiting. “Let him come to you,” her father had ordered. “Let him think it was his decision,” her mother advised, shaking a finger. “When you open the door, grab him and drag him inside. Don’t give him a chance to get away,” her sister Charity recommended. Her grandmother had smiled. No words. Just a smile and a knowing nod. When the knock came at her door, she jumped, spinning around, her eyes wide, her mouth suddenly dry. “W-who is it?” she said, and was annoyed her voice squeaked like that of a cornered mouse. “Lord… Ah, Kasid. Kasid Jaborn.” Justice’s knees nearly buckled. She reached out to grab the back of a chair to brace herself. She licked her lips and was surprised she could hear the beat of her heart in her ears. “May I speak with you?” She swallowed hard, eyes darting around the room to make sure everything was neat and orderly. Reapers were orderly men, she’d heard, and did not appreciate clutter. At least, that was what her sisters had told her. “Milady?”

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Groaning because she was keeping him waiting, she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and walked slowly to the door. Her hand trembled as she reached for the knob. “Grab him and drag him inside,” Charity had counseled. “Rip that uniform off his back and straddle him like he’s a wild pony in need of training!” As she eased the door open, she peeked at him through the crack. “Aye, milord?” she asked timidly although she had the wild desire to do exactly as Charity had directed. “Snake,” he said then cleared his throat. “I’m not evil.” She heard him groan, watched the discomfiture infuse his handsome face. She opened the door a bit wider. “I know you are not, milord. You are a Reaper.” His hand went to the sleeve beneath which the tattoo rested. “It was not my intention to frighten you.” She opened the door all the way, smiling nervously. “You did not. It was not the tattoo that made me take flight.” A frown etched across his forehead. “Then why did you run from me?” “My púridaia—my grandmother—is drabarni,” she replied then smiled hesitantly. “A fortuneteller.” His frown deepened. “Milady, I am not following. I…” Justice gave in to the desire that was building inside her and reached for him, grabbing his arm to drag him into her room, slamming the door shut behind him even as his lips worked to speak. Before he could, she plastered her body to his, speared her hands through his hair and took possession of his mouth.

Kasid’s eyes popped as she ground her luscious body against his. He grunted as she crooked one leg around his hip for better purchase, stunned by her actions. When her

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tongue slipped past his lips he thought it time he took control of the situation. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss, his arms going around her so fiercely he thought an earthquake could not have dislodged them. She tore her mouth from his. “She said when I met a man…” He took back the kiss, walking her backward toward the divan, lifting her to carry her the rest of the way. Once more she broke free of the punishing kiss. “Who had the sign of the sapper…” “The what?” he mumbled against her ruby-red lips. “Sapper,” she replied as he fell with her to the divan. She grunted from his weight. “Viper.” “Um,” he acknowledged, his hand going to her firm breast. “I would know,” she panted as she wedged a hand between them to palm his hard cock. “Know what?” he queried then rained hot kisses down her chin, her throat. “He would be my kirvi,” she said. “Kirvi?” he repeated. Instead of answering, she hooked her leg over his and arched her hips to him. “Make love to me,” she whispered into his ear. “Now. Make love to me now.” “Kirvi?” he said again. “Beloved of my soul,” she explained. Kasid didn’t need a second invitation to take what he already considered his. He reared up, grasped the bodice of her gown and rent it to her navel, growling fiercely when he saw her naked breasts, the nipples hard and pleading to be tasted. Lowering his head, he latched onto one dark pearl, his hand dragging the hem of her gown up her taut thigh. “Aye, milord,” she sighed as his fingers grazed her bared mound. “Mine,” he mouthed around her nipple. 16

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“Yours,” she agreed. Swirling his tongue around her areola, he stabbed at the sweet tip again and again before drawing the nubbin into his mouth to suck firmly upon the engorged bud. He grazed it with his teeth—worked it gently back and forth—then moved to the other breast. “My sweet milord,” she muttered, her hands buried in his hair.

His strong pulling on her nipples made Justice lift her hips. She wanted the impalement of his thick finger. She wanted to feel the pleasure she’d been assured came after the slight pain of initiation into womanhood. Never having known the touch of a male, she nevertheless knew what transpired between a man and his mate. Her education had come—not from her mother—but her two older sisters. She had learned things from Charity and Prudence that would have shocked her mother. “He will want you to suckle his cock,” Prudence had told her. “And the correct way to do this is…” Charity had her own tried-and-true method of “swallowing the eel” as she labeled it. From her sisters’ knowledge of their husbands’ wants and pleasures, Justice had earned an invaluable education—or so said her sisters. “He might want to thrust into your ass but if you do not like it tell him so,” Prudence insisted. “It is painful though he will tell you he enjoys it.” “You won’t,” Charity put in but at Prudence’s hiss, she shrugged. “Well, perhaps you will. You will not know until you try. As for me, no. I do not like it.” “Nor do I, but do not discount any form of pleasure your man wishes to try until you see for yourself. Suckling him will give him much pleasure and you will find it very stimulating as well,” Prudence said. “I love the taste of my Hector,” Charity said on a long sigh. “I want to taste you,” Justice said and was unprepared for Kasid’s finger thrusting deep within her. 17

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“What?” he asked, his head coming up. “You want to what?” “To taste you,” she repeated. She put her hands to either side of his head. “Do you not wish to taste me?”

Kasid eased his palm down her mound and used the pads of his fingertips to gently spread her nether lips. His middle finger entered her slick opening just a fraction of an inch to set her juices flowing. He felt her hands tense in his hair and he thrust a bit deeper—keeping her soft folds open for his tender invasion. His middle finger was buried deep within her moist sheath. He wasn’t sure since he’d never lain with a woman—though he’d often had his cock sucked by the occasional whore—but he thought perhaps he had already deflowered her. He wanted nothing more than to bare his cock and slide between her sweet thighs. He wanted his rod where his finger was. “Aye, I want to taste you but I want to make you mine first,” he said finally, swallowing against the dryness that had invaded his mouth. He thought it only proper to claim her before doing such intimate things to her body. “I am already yours,” she said. Her eyes flared when her words caused her cunt to tighten around his fingers. Kasid groaned. “Milady, I am near to bursting. Be careful what you do to it!” “May I see it? Touch it?” Another groan came from the very depths of the Reaper and he sprang from the divan so quickly he nearly lost his balance. With a sweep of his hand, his uniform vanished and he stood before her with his jutting pride weeping a single drop of pearly liquid.

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“Oh!” Justice said with a gasp. She was not prepared for the sight of such a massive appendage standing straight out from his thatch of black curls. The broad mushroom head fascinated her. Hand trembling, she reached out to touch it. “So hard,” she said, running her fingers up and down his length. She ran her thumb over the slit to catch a single drop of pre-cum then brought her hand to her mouth to taste. “By the Prophets, milady, you are killing me!” he said, his voice strangled. “Salty,” she proclaimed then smiled shyly at him. “I look forward to a larger taste of your love juice.”

Kasid was breathing hard, straining to keep from coming for his eyes were glued to the drops of moisture wetting her rosy folds. He dug his fingernails into his palms to keep from falling upon her and rutting like a wild stag. As her hand closed around his throbbing erection, he had to clamp his teeth together. Unable to take another moment of the torture, he carelessly waved his hand again and her torn gown disappeared. He barely heard her gasp of surprise that she was suddenly naked before he was on his knees beside the divan, grasping her thighs to pull her legs over his bare shoulders. “I want a taste too,” he growled. He heard Justice suck in a hard breath as his mouth closed over her core. The wet heat of his tongue pushed against her opening, flicking up one fold and then down the other, swirling around her, robbing her of speech. She squirmed beneath his onslaught. The moment he thrust his thumb into her opening, a strangled squeal came from the back of her throat and she slammed her hands to his head, pushing him tightly between her legs. His growl of satisfaction made her clench hard against his thumb. Latching onto her clit, Kasid began to rhythmically thrust and remove his thumb, feeling her inner muscles clamp around him with each stroke. He wanted her so enflamed with lust that when he pressed into her, she would come quickly and hard. 19

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“Let me know the right moment, Mo Regina!” he pleaded with the goddess whom he knew was watching. “I think the moment is now, My Reaper,” came a cooing voice in his ear. “Best you hurry.” Kasid was up and over his woman in a heartbeat. He took hold of his cock and guided it firmly into her moist slit. He slid his other hand beneath her rump to lift her for a better position. There was a slight stiffening of her muscles as he entered her, a jerk of her hips then he was all the way inside her only a second or two before she climaxed. “Mother of the Roms!” Justice cried out, dragging her legs up to imprison his hips so tightly it forced the breath from his lungs. Bucking like a stallion, he pounded into her soft body as she came again. He was not expecting such a thing—had never heard of a woman coming twice during lovemaking. In the back of his mind he made a mental note to ask Phelan about such a strange occurrence even though the Reapers did not talk amongst themselves about their mates. When she screamed a third release he was stunned and emptied his seed into her straining body, adding his bellow in echo. Sweat was running down his cheeks, from beneath his arms, down the center of his chest through the dark curls, and still he slammed his body against hers repeatedly. The sound of flesh meeting flesh only goaded him to a more frenzied thrusting though he had already climaxed. He was hard still and would have kept ramming into her had she not pleaded for mercy. “No more, milord! No more!” she begged. “I can take no more!” Fearful he had hurt her, ruined their future life together, he tried to pull out of her but her thighs still held him captive. He wiggled but she kept a fierce grip on him. “Milady, let me out!” he beseeched. “I can’t,” she said. “I think we’re locked.”

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Kasid blinked. Was such a thing possible? he wondered. Surely not but then he had known it to happen to wolfhounds when at stud. Could it happen to human females and Reapers as well? “Ease your legs down,” he suggested. He could feel her thighs quivering around him. Justice unhooked her ankles and her legs dropped as though the bones had been removed from them. She shuddered, clenched around his cock so tightly he grunted. “What are we going to do?” she asked in a hopeless voice. “Stay calm,” he said, realizing he was as hard as he’d been when he’d entered her. That too seemed unnatural to him. “Try to relax.” His arms were quivering like her thighs because he was trying to keep the bulk of his weight from crushing her. With his toes digging into the divan to help keep him levered away from her, his calves were starting to cramp. For a moment neither spoke then Kasid cleared his throat. “Did I hurt you, milady?” he queried. “Nay, milord,” she said. She put a hand to his cheek. “You gave me great pleasure.” Her eyes twinkled. “Several times over.” She cocked her head to one side. “And you?” “I have never known such pleasure,” he admitted with a dreamy expression that turned slowly hard. “You know there will be no other for you for all time, do you not?” “That is the Rom way,” she said. “One man, one woman, one shared soul.” Her twinkling eyes turned as hard as his expression. “Touch another woman and I will slit her throat from ear to ear and cut off your love root.” He shook his head. “Not possible,” he stated firmly. “A Reaper can mate with only one woman and that is his Chosen. It is a geas the goddess bestowed upon us.” He shrugged. “Well, in my case, not so much the goddess as the hellion within me. It will only share me with one woman.” He grinned. “And if you cut it off, it would just grow back thanks to the hellion.”

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Justice nodded gravely. “I have heard of the parasites that reside within your kind.” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Will you share one of your fledglings with me?” Kasid’s heart skipped a beat. He would like nothing more but it would have to be her choice. “Would you accept one?” She appeared to think about it a moment. “I once heard Lady Aingeal speaking with Lady Danielle about the pain of it.” She lifted her chin. “To be with you for all time, I would gladly bear such pain.” His heart swelled with pride. “I would be there with you through the Transition.” He ran the backs of his fingers down her lovely face then lifted a strand of her hair. “I think you will make a beautiful she-wolf with beautiful red fur.” “She-wolf,” she repeated then her eyes widened. “Will I be able to fly?” Kasid grinned. “I do not see why not, albi,” he said, calling her his heart. “I can shift into the form of an anhinga, a water bird, though I rarely do so.” “I have seen anhingas many times. We Roms call them snakebirds,” she said and her gaze went to the viper tattoo. His gaze followed hers. “Your grandmother foresaw your mate,” he said softly. “My grandmother was also Qariat Al Fingan, a cup reader. She could tell your fortune by looking into the grounds at the bottom of the cup.” “Did she tell you of your mate?” He shook his head. “She said nothing to me of my fate although she often said Khnum would meet his at the hands of a Jinn.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Some call the Reaper by that name—Jinn.” “And did he meet his fate at the hands of a Reaper?” she questioned. “He did and rightly so. He was an evil man who deserved his fate.” He tensed then sighed deeply for his cock slid from her as though thinking of his dead twin had broken the bond between him and his mate.

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“Whew,” Justice said, relief rife in her throaty voice. “I was fearful we would have to call someone to help us.” Kasid laughed. “I would not have called someone to help us, albi,” he stated. “I would never have lived it down within the Reaper cadre!” “Nor I among my sisters,” she said with a giggle. Kasid shifted so he lay against the back of the divan, his lady tucked securely under his arm with her head upon his shoulder. He entwined his fingers with hers and silence eased over them. For a long time they lay there listening to the other’s heartbeat then the Reaper turned his head to place a kiss to her temple. “I will need to see your father in the morning to ask for your hand in Joining,” he said. “My father will be very pleased. He admires the Reapers,” she told him. “He wishes he was as good with a six-shooter as Lord Arawn or could wield a whip as expertly as Lord Cynyr.” “Cynyr is, indeed, very adept with the laser whip,” Kasid agreed. “I am considered quite good with a throwing knife.” “All Roms are good with throwing knives so you will be challenged to a contest by the men of my family,” she predicted. “I will win,” he boasted. “I have no doubt you will,” she agreed. “The Joining must be according to the laws of the Shadowlords,” he warned. “They are our laws as well,” she assured him. “Midnight, three days hence?” he inquired. “Four,” she corrected. “I will need time to have a gown made. My youngest sister, Patience, will be my maid of honor.”

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“Lord Phelan will be my best man,” he said then sighed. “I wish we were not in lockdown else we could spend our honeymoon on the Bay of Chesapeake. There is this little village where the sunrises and sunsets are so beautiful they will break your heart.” “Wherever you are, I am happy to be,” she said. “I will do all in my power to keep you happy,” he replied. Justice slid her hand down his chest to the sturdy length of him and wrapped her fingers around him. When he sucked in a breath and his cock began to harden, she smiled coyly. “May I have my taste now, Lord Kasid?” she asked. Before he could answer, she was scooting down the divan, easing over the side to kneel beside him. “Taste ‘til your little heart is satisfied, albi,” he said huskily. His mate grinned mercilessly. “It is not my heart that needs satisfying,” she said and bent her head to the juncture of his thighs. Kasid reached above him to take hold of the divan’s arm. Her tongue was swirling over the head of his cock, her teeth nibbling at the underside to send shock waves up and down his spine. His rod throbbed with every swipe. His balls tightened until he thought they would burst as she licked them. He writhed beneath her teasing, his grip on the divan arm ripping the fabric. His hips rose and fell as he strained to put his cock in her mouth but she evaded it and continued to run her tongue over him, to nibble at the ultra sensitive underside of his wet tip. “Milady, have mercy!” he pleaded. Justice looked up at him through her lashes. “You taste so good, milord,” she pronounced. The Reaper could not stop the moan and he arched his hips toward her. “Please,” he asked. “I…” He got no further for she closed her lips around the head of his cock, and before he could take another breath, she had him as far as he would go down her throat.

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Reaper’s Justice

“Merciful Prophets!” he exclaimed, his heart pounding to the tempo of the strong tugs on his shaft. He felt her mouth sliding up and down his rigid flesh. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and ground his teeth.

She watched his face but she knew she wasn’t hurting him—just the opposite for Charity had told her how much men enjoyed making love in this fashion. “Clamp your teeth gently around him as you glide your lips over his love-handle,” Prudence had instructed. “Graze his length and you will drive him insane with need.” Closing her jaw slightly, she did just that and her lover jumped, groaning as his eyes popped open. He looked down at her with something akin to awe. “When he looks at you, wink, then increase the rhythm and the suction,” was Charity’s recommendation. “Aye, that will bring him close to the edge,” Prudence agreed with a laugh. When Kasid opened his eyes, she winked at him, speeding up her sucking as he pushed his heels into the divan and pumped helplessly. Her head bobbed up and down in tandem with his lifts. Their eyes locked.

“Milady, I am going to come!” he warned, wanting to give her time to pull away if she wanted. She winked again—slowly, audaciously—and tightened the pressure around his cock, putting her hand under his balls to massage them firmly. One finger grazed his anus and he yelped as though prodded with a hot iron. There was no stopping the orgasm that rocked him and Kasid went mindless with accelerated lust. Everything was centered in the explosive release that shot from him in copious waves that seemed to go on and on, her throat working as she swallowed his cum. Her eyes were glued to his and he could not look away. He was helpless to do

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anything but rock his hips and squeeze his butt-cheeks together against the friction caused by her questing finger rubbing against his opening. “Stop!” he begged. “Justice, stop!” She smiled around his cock then drew her mouth down his length, lapping at the last spurt that oozed from his tip. She ran her tongue over her lips and he thought if it were possible he could come again. “I love the taste of you, milord,” she said. She got up from the floor and slid her body over his, wedging her lower body between his legs. “I think we make a good match.” “You have struck me as though I was one and I am burned to the nubbin!” he replied. “By the goddess, milady, you have drained me dry!” “Are you complaining?” she asked, her lips forming a little moue. “No,” he said. He shook his head. “Most assuredly I am not.” “Tomorrow, then, you will go to my father,” she said as she settled her head on his chest. “Aye,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her heart beating close to his. “And we will have many sons,” she said with a yawn. “I know Reapers can only give their mates sons.” Kasid’s face paled. “How many sons?” “At least as many as there are virtues,” she replied. “I have seven sisters, you know.” “Eight?” he asked with a gasp. “At least,” she said then giggled. “A nice dozen little Reapers would be just right, don’t you think?”

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The Reaper could not imagine one son much less a dozen. He thought of his fellow teammate Eanan Tohre and the three sets of twin boys that Reaper had fathered. The thought of having so many sons to manage petrified him. “Don’t worry, milord Reaper,” Justice said. “Just think of the pleasure you’ll get from making them.” He thought about it and nodded slowly. “Aye, that I can handle.” That she was his was his last thought before total exhaustion claimed him and he closed his eyes. Reapers never slept well but this night he knew he would. He had his mate, his Chosen One, atop his tired body and her quiet breathing as she slept was sweetness unlike any he had ever known. He instinctively tightened his protective grip around her. He had died at the hands of evil and had been brought back to life to destroy mankind. He had rebelled to save the humanity he had been destined to annihilate. Now he had been reborn in the arms of the one woman in all the megaverse who had been created just for him. He was whole for the first time. He had found peace at last. “A dozen sons,” he mumbled as he tumbled deeper into the arms of Morpheus. “Not quite. You will have a full baker’s dozen but you will handle that too, My Reaper,” the goddess whispered and Her wicked laughter chased him into sleep.

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About the Author Charlee is the author of over seventy books. Married 42 years to her high school sweetheart, Tom, she is the mother of two grown sons, Pete and Mike, and the proud grandmother of Preston Alexander and Victoria Ashley. She is the willing house slave to five demanding felines who are holding her hostage in her home and only allowing her to leave in order to purchase food for them. A native of Sarasota, Florida, she grew up in Colquitt and Albany, Georgia, and now lives in the Midwest.

Charlee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis IV anthology Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails I anthology Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction II anthology Dancing on the Wind Ghost Wind HardWind In the Arms of the Wind Journey of the Wind Kiss of the Wind Passion’s Mistral Shades of the Wind WesternWind 1: WyndRiver Sinner WesternWind 2: Reaper’s Revenge WesternWind 3: Prime Reaper WesternWind 4: Tears of the Reaper WesternWind 5: Her Reaper’s Arms WesternWind 6: My Reaper’s Daughter WesternWind 7: Embrace the Wind WesternWind 8: BlackMoon Reaper WindVerse 1: Pleasure’s Foehn WindVerse 2: Secrets of the Wind WindVerse 3: Ardor’s Leveche

WindVerse 4: Prisoners of the Wind WindVerse 5: Phantom of the Wind WindVerse 6: Hunger’s Harmattan WindVerse 7: Craving’s Chinook WindVerse 8: Emperor of the Wind WindVerse 9: WindChaser WindVerse 10: Catch the Wind WindWorld: Desire’s Sirocco WindWorld: Longing’s Levant WindWorld: Lucien’s Khamsin WindWorld: Rapture’s Etesian WyndRaider

Want more? Find Charlotte’s addition titles at Cerridwen Press (www.cerridwenpress.com):

BlackWind: Sean and Bronwyn BlackWind: Viraiden and Bronwyn Desert Wind In the Wind’s Eye Prince of the Wind Shadowlord Taken By the Wind

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com