Page 129 of XO Karma

“If I had listened to you, this wouldn’t have happened.” My eyes fill with moisture, but I blink it away.

“This is not your fault.” He holds my shoulders, eyes boring into mine. “The only person at fault for hurting you is Nolan. This is his sin, and his alone.” I nod, willing myself to believe Aster’s words. He lifts my hand, places a kiss on my knuckles, then uses the cotton ball to clean some scrapes off my arms. He tends to my wounds with delicate care, and by the time he’s done, I’ve been able to ease the ache and shame inside. He removes my boots and socks, then places his hands on both sides of me, situating himself between my legs once more. “Have you ever considered you put yourself in danger too often?” he asks, lifting me from the counter, maintaining his hold even after my bare feet hit the floor.

“The first time I’d ever been hurt doing Karma work was the night I fell out of the tree.”

“Don’t you try blaming this on me.” He holds my waist, and I find myself fully charged in his presence. His proximity alone steadies me. Gives me strength. Makes me brave.

“If the blade fits,” I say, forcing a teasing tone that fizzles away when he unhooks the buckle of my overalls and they drop to the floor. His soft eyes drag over my skin, awareness skating across it, and his gaze turns hungry when discovering I’m wearing the red lacy panties he mentioned loving.

“Fuck,” he chokes out, dipping his hands under the hem of my tee, fingers grazing my skin as he slides it upwards, discovering the matching red bra and knife garter. “Baby.” His tone is anguished, and my heart races as heat dances its way up my body. He releases a heavy sigh, then retreats, causing distance between us. “You need to shower and wash off your wounds.” My stomach sinks. “I’ll grab you a towel.”

I unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor. “You’re not joining?”

His greedy eyes fall to my chest, and he scratches his stubbled jaw. “I want to…”

“But?”

With slow, deliberate steps, I move his way, tension tugging me to him like a magnet. His gaze plummets to my feet, tracking each stride closing between us, and when my foot hits the floor directly in front of him, his smoldering eyes are on me. “The willpower to remain a gentleman is exorcized from my body every moment I look at you.”

Adrenaline thrums through me. Tonight was insane, but the last thing I want is to be left alone. With my thoughts. With these wounds. With the heat pooling between my thighs. I meant what I said when I told Aster I just wanted a normal night with him. As normal as possible for Karma incarnate and the self-proclaimed Grim Reaper. A grin quirks at my lips. “Then don’t be a gentleman.”

He grips my neck, and I gasp as he tugs me to him, our lips inches apart. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Karma baby.”

Gripping the handle of my dagger, I unsheathe it, then press it flat against his chest. “You asked if you could give me a mark of my own.” His eyes drop to the blade. “And you were such a good boy tonight.”

He bites his lower lip, and my stomach tightens as he rests his hand over mine on his chest, his gaze locked on my naked body. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

Desperate want surges through me. I’ve had so much mundane sex in my life, and when Aster dragged the blade down my back, that was a thrill I’ve never experienced. My level of horniness should be clinically studied, because a therapist would certainly have loads to say about it. “Yes.” I slide my fingers in his hair, gripping tight to force his eyes to mine. “I do.”

“Is this really what you want?” His pupils dilate, eyes darkening as his long fingers wrap around mine.

“Undoubtably.” The tension in the room swirls, and I hold my breath, awaiting his response.

He takes the dagger, then prowls around me like a hunter stalking its prey. His chest presses to my bare back, and he brings his mouth to my ear. A shiver racks through me when his breath hits my neck. “First, you’re going to clean my canvas.” His tone is low and gravelly. He chuckles, the sound rumbling to my bones as heat tugs at my core. “Then meet me in the bedroom.” He retreats to the door, and my body already aches for his return as he pauses in the frame. “Your safe word is ‘milkshake.’”

I bite my cheek, anticipation racing through me. “You think I’ll need a safe word?”

His eyes rake languidly over my body, a lazy, devilish grin curling on his lips. “Just a precaution.” And he’s gone without another word.

Within five minutes, I shower and disinfect the wounds, and now I stand in front of the mirror wrapped in a warm, plush white towel. I’ve undone my braids and run my fingers through my hair, trying to add volume while doing bogus breathing exercises to hype myself up.

I have no clue what to expect when I step out that door. But if there’s one thing I know, I am fucking crazy about this man.

I’ve tried not to be. Tried to fight my feelings of what I know to be true. Every person he’s killed did deserve that fate. And maybe accepting that makes me just as morally questionable as he is. But I let Nolan off with a warning, and not only did he continue his bullshit, but he also got one lucky chance encounter, and instead of running for the hills, he beat the shit out of me.

I shake away the negative thoughts. Karma business is closed for the night.

Clutching the towel around me, I roll my shoulders back, forcing confidence, and head towards the bedroom. Soft music floats through the air as I nudge the door open to the dim candlelit room.

My lips part, nipples hardening, and I thank the gods, the universe, whatever damn deity is responsible, for the scene before me. With his hunting knife in one hand and the skull mask secured to his face, Aster dominates the room, consuming every bit of oxygen between us. Lust tugs at my core as I drink in the sight of his rippled muscles, and my gaze pauses on the delicious V disappearing into his blue jeans.

He strolls my way, and my heart pounds as he towers over me.

“Do you remember the safe word?” he asks, danger dancing in his eyes.

I nod, my mouth terribly dry. “Y-y-yes.”

“Mmm, good girl,” he growls, reaching out and resting the tip of the knife against my throat. “Now unless I hear it, I’m going to assume you’re okay with whatever comes next.”