The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter sixteen.

THERE IS SOMETHING domestic about the routine I fall into with Reaper.

I cook, he cleans.

I do homework with Elodie, he draws with her while I shower.

For a week, we continue on like this. Sometimes, I hear him in the lounge room; the nightmares he has are terrifying. I go out a few times, wanting to wake him and pull him from whatever hell he is trapped in, but I'm too scared he'll be angry with me or hurt me.

The silence from Anthony is eerie, but I begin to hope that maybe Reaper successfully scared him off.

At night, when I go to the club, I work on the plans for the new franchise for Nathaniel. Sometimes, he sits with me in his office and we work on it together.

It's midnight on a Friday when I get home with Reaper.

"She's asleep. Chattered on and on about some museum you're taking her to tomorrow," Miss Magnolia tells us on her way out and I glare at Reaper.

He's the one who caved and promised El we'd finally take her to the museum.

In the shower, I shampoo my hair and scrub my skin, as though I can wash away the remnants of Nathaniel's stare on me and the heat that lingers there.

"Shit," I mutter, staring into the foggy mirror, when I realize I didn't bring any pajamas to wear into the bathroom. Wrapping the towel around me tightly, I slip out, craning my head toward the kitchen to see if I can spot Reaper as I hurry toward my room.

...And I collide straight into his chest. His hands dart out and steady me, wrapping around the damp skin of my arms.

I stare up into cold, blue eyes. "We have to stop meeting like this."

Getting him to smile is harder than pulling teeth, but I see the fondness on his face as he unconsciously draws me closer.

"Did you check on El?" I ask and he nods, his pupils dilating as he scans me, lingering on where the towel cuts across my breasts.

"She's still asleep."

His thumb brushes up and down my arm—a small movement, almost unconscious.

I reach out and curl my hands into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a throb start between my legs.

"Reaper," I breathe, leaning up on my toes to be closer to him, my chest brushing against him.

His throat moves as he swallows and the conflict warring on his face hurts. Does he not want this as much as I do?

"Amelia..." He shakes his head.

"I don't understand what you want." Frustration bleeds into my voice.

He grits his teeth, jawline hard. "What I want and what's right are two very different things."

"So this is about your moral compass?" I wonder, perplexed.

He cups my cheeks and lowers his head till our foreheads touch. "If things were different..." His fingers tighten on my face. "If I could give you everything you deserve..."

Emotion wells. "You don't need to give me anything but you."

But he shakes his head. "I can't even give you that."

A sound of frustration leaves me. "Because of Nathaniel? Because of whatever he holds over your head?"

Reaper says nothing, his mouth flattening, but I can see I'm right.

"I don't care about whatever it is," I tell him, unsure how true that is but willing to say it with conviction anyway. "I don't want him to have this kind of power over us. Do you?"

Reaper blows out a breath; I know damn well he hates the power Nathaniel holds over our heads. Even more than I do.

He hesitates for another moment, then leans in slowly and presses a soft kiss to my lips. Warmth zips through me, comfort flooding me. He makes me feel safe, like I'm not alone in this war I have found myself embroiled in.

His mouth is gentle on mine; he's holding himself back, as though I am fine china he might break.

"You don't need to be careful with me," I huff out and let the towel drop onto the floor. He groans, crowding close to me, pressing me against the wall of the hallway. The material of his shirt rubs against my nipples, his jeans coarse against the soft skin of my thighs.

He runs his hands down my bare sides, over the curve of my hips and then clutches them beneath my ass, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around him, eagerly chasing his mouth.

The kiss grows hungrier, more desperate, but every time it goes too far, he pulls back. I curl my arms tightly around his neck, trying to press my mouth harder to his, but still he is cautious.

As he carries me toward my bedroom, I lay my head on his shoulder, accepting that he is not going to fuck me in the rough way he did before.

He kicks the bedroom door shut behind him and lowers me carefully onto the bed. I am already pulling at his shirt, wanting it off him.

"Easy, Amelia," he breathes, stroking my hair. Resigned to letting him take it at his own pace, I flop back and watch as he runs his hands all over my bare body.

Finally, his fingers ease between my thighs, stroking the soft skin there. I let my knees fall open, trying to urge him to touch me properly.

He leans down and kisses my cheek, slipping a finger into me and pumping it in and out slowly.

A puff of air leaves my mouth as my eyes close. This is exactly what I've been wanting. What I've been needing.

His thumb brushes over my clit in gentle circles. It feels phenomenal...but I'm not going to come like this. I need more.

"Faster, please," I beg. I'm too ashamed to ask him to choke me again, but I secretly hope he will.

He adds a second finger and touches my clit more insistently, pressing his lips to my forehead. I cant my hips up to meet each stroke of his fingers, pleasure slipping silently through my bloodstream. I want him to fuck me, want his cock inside of me, stretching me out like it did last time.

"Reaper..." I gasp out, clinging to him.

He lowers his head and sucks on one of my nipples as I writhe beneath him. "Come for me, sweetheart," he murmurs into my skin and every part of me goes stiff as my mouth opens in a silent cry.

He pushes me through it, his hand not slowing down between my legs until my knees snap together, my body overstimulated.

I am panting and weak as he carefully extracts his hand and then slides his fingers into his mouth, tasting me. Some pathetic sound leaves me and I manage to say, "Are you going to fuck me now?"

Even though I just came, my body shivers excitedly at the thought.

But he shakes his head and eases the covers of my bed back, then tucks me in.

"Get some sleep," he tells me.

Wait...what?

"Reaper..."

"It's ok, shh," he hushes me. "Go to sleep."

My eyelids are heavy, but I still want to touch him. When I reach out, though, he takes my wrists in his hands and holds them down against the mattress.

I squirm, only wanting him more.

"Sleep, Amelia," he reminds me. A long sigh leaves me as I realize there will be no more sex tonight.

"Will you stay with me, at least?"

He hesitates, but must see some shred of vulnerability in my expression, because he toes off his boots and settles down beside me, letting me lean my head against his chest.

I fall asleep to the steady beating of his heart.

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