Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68 Sweet Temptation

“Take as much as you want.”

Finished

With his permission, Margaret could no longer hold back the primal urge in her body. She bit down hard on his skin.

The sweet, fragrant blood filled her mouth.

Margaret let out a contented sigh. “Andrew, your blood tastes so sweet.”

“I’m glad you like it.” His voice was calm.

Pain throbbed in waves from where he’d been bitten, but Andrew didn’t show any sign of discomfort. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the pain.

Only pain could remind him he was still alive-not just a walking corpse.

Walter walked in just in time to see this shocking scene.

His eyebrows twitched violently.

He forced himself to speak, awkward as hell. “Ahem… Andrew, it’s time for your medicine.”

He swore he felt genuine killing intent when those two pairs of eyes turned to him. A cold chill ran down his spine.

Sticking to his doctor’s oath, he explained, “Ahem… Ms. Tucker, Andrew’s health is poor. He can’t handle strenuous activities. Otherwise, he could actually drop dead from getting too worked up.”

The words felt awkward on his tongue, but he had to say them.

He was terrified these two would get carried away and Andrew might actually end up dead!

“Walter! Do you have a death wish!”

Andrew looked like a kid throwing a tantrum because he couldn’t get candy—furious and deadly. His cold, bloodthirsty gaze locked onto Walter.

“Ahem… No rush. We can do that later.” Margaret soothed Andrew.

Look closely, and there was a faint hint of anger and embarrassment in her usually icy eyes.

Dammit. I really wanted to take him just now.

The scent of his blood was so tempting-she couldn’t resist it.

Andrew fell silent, clearly agreeing with her.

Walter listened to their explicit words, his heart pounding wildly,

Come on, guys-I’m still a virgin here!

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Chapter 68 Sweet Temptation

Andrew left with Walter to take his medicine and get treated.

(51

Finished

Margaret was alone in the room. She lay on the big bed, wrapped in the quilt that smelled like Andrew. A faint flush colored her cold, beautiful cheeks.

Reaper, you’re actually such a horndog?

For the past 18 years, her life had only consisted of killing, doing missions, and switching between different identities.

She’d been like a robot-no emotions, no joy or sorrow, and no understanding of romantic feelings.

But now, maybe because she’d merged with the original Margaret’s memories, she was starting to feel human emotions.

She could get angry, she could feel joy-even if those feelings were faint, and few things could stir them.

Like now, because of what had just happened, she was feeling something called “shyness.” It was a strange experience.

When Andrew returned, he’d showered and changed into a black silk nightgown.

With Darryl’s help, he climbed into bed.

“You’re only allowed to sleep with me tonight.” He wrapped his arm tightly around her, his dominance oozing out like a classic overbearing CEO.

Normally, anyone who dared order her like that would be dead in seconds. But she couldn’t bear to hurt this

man.

She sighed in resignation. “Fine, let’s sleep.”

Darryl had already slipped out of the room.

Click.

Margaret turned around, only to find her wrist cuffed to Andrew’s with a pair of handcuffs.

She didn’t panic.

She just asked calmly, “What’s this for?”

Andrew stared at her, his eyes dark. He greedily breathed in her scent, his voice overbearing. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. You’re staying with me.”

This guy’s totally living up to that overbearing CEO cliché-like, for real.

Margaret said nothing more. She closed her eyes and prepared to sleep.

She’d always been a clean freak, but sharing the bed with a man didn’t bother her at all. If anything, the scent of his blood was comforting.

Under the quilt, her hand accidentally brushed against his body. His skin was cold. She frowned slightly. “Are you cold?”

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Chapter 68 Sweet Temptation

Finished

He seemed afraid his cold skin would chill her. He’d moved away in his sleep, not touching her. In the darkness, Andrew’s voice was deep and hoarse-like mellow old wine, rich and magnetic.

“A little.”

For someone so usually dominant, he sounded almost pitiful-like a lonely little animal, making Margaret’s heart soften.

“Come here. I’ll warm you up.” She opened her arms, offering her body heat.

Andrew longed to move closer, but he forced himself to hold back, scared he’d make her cold. His voice turned cold and distant. “No need.”

Under the quilt, his fingers twitched. He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms.

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