Free Warriors of Ryon: Bayden by S.K. Yule Page A

hands.
    “You’re so damn beautiful, nela,” he whispered.
    The way his eyes darkened as they gazed upon her nakedness promptly chased any embarrassment away that she felt. She wanted his shirt off too, to be skin to skin with him, craved running her hands over his hot skin. Before she could pull off the garment, his mouth descended over her nipple.
    Zings of electricity shot through her. “Ohh.” She rested her head against the cushion. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him to her, and a keening moan slipped from her throat. He pulled the stiffened peak deep into his mouth, licked, nipped, and sucked it until she thought she might pass out. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he swooped down on the other nipple and introduced it to the same sweet torture.
    His hand slid under the waist of her jeans, and the brief stab of fear that shot through her from being touched so intimately was instantly replaced by the heat that pooled deep in her belly. His hand skimmed through the tight curls at the juncture of her thighs before his finger circled her clit. Tremors shook her body, and he kissed her again.
    Each time his finger brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves, her skin burned hotter and the pressure inside her belly built. She jerked with every mind-blowing caress, and she dug her nails into his shoulders as he brought her body to a fevered pitch. She pulled her mouth from him, panting for air.
    The heat that burned in his gaze curled her toes. She reached for his shirt and fought to get it over his head. She sucked in a deep breath. His chest was a perfectly sculpted, broad span of golden skin. There wasn’t one ounce of fat on his body. And his abs… Her mouth went dry. She’d never seen a man put together as gorgeously as he. She licked her lips and pulled him down for another kiss.
    His hand slipped back to the waistband of her jeans and tugged at the button and then the zipper, all the while his mouth, his lips claiming her. He stood and pulled her to her feet in front of him. Her body ached for him, for the pleasure that it instinctively knew only he could give. He knelt in front of her and kissed her stomach, swirled his tongue around her navel, and she clutched his shoulders. When she looked down, her breath caught in her throat, and her body tensed.
    He looked up at her. “What’s wrong, Ellie?”
    No. It couldn’t be. This had to be some kind of mistake. There on his back, almost covering its entire width, was a tattoo. The hooded figure had no face, only a black void. Starting from its neck and ending at its feet, a thick obsidian robe hung in folds around its body. Grasped in its bony hand was a menacing scythe ready to cut into anyone who got close enough. There was no color in the tattoo, just blacks and grays.
    She remembered the articles about the Reapers and Renegades, and horror clenched its ugly fist around her insides. She clutched the sides of her shirt together to cover her breasts and stumbled back. Her calves hit the sofa, and she tumbled down on it, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Y-You’re a Reaper.”
    Every muscle in his body tensed. “Son of a bitch.” He cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you about the tattoo. It can be daunting.”
    “You kill people. I heard about Reapers on the computer. You do horrible things.” Her lips trembled.
    He snorted. “I do, do I? And I suppose the computer said how upstanding the Enforcers are too, huh?”
    Something deep inside her screamed in denial. This man had been kind to her. The others had been kind to her. Yes, he was rough, crude at times, fierce, but he’d taken care of her and Molly and never asked for anything in return.
    She didn’t know what to think. He came toward her, and she scooted farther onto the cushions. The anger that crossed his face scared her, but the pain that filled his eyes made her heart ache.
    “Don’t worry. I won’t touch you again,” he said through