Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 73

Her Obsession.

Rewards

Conner

Á。 (76

She was running on fumes and willpower, fingers still flying over Nico’s keys like she hadn’t been stitched back together yesterday. I watched the small tremor in her left hand start up again, the one she thinks I don’t notice.

“Alright,” I said, leaning a hip against the console. “Class dismissed.”

Sage didn’t look up. “Give me a few more minutes. I need to build a cleaner exfil route for tonight’s mark.”

“I’m hitting the mark,” I reminded her. “You’re healing.”

“You’re not me,” she shot back, soft but sharp. “I have to set the board.”

“You already did.” I reached past her and killed the main window, leaving only our perimeter cams up. “And if you keep poking at it, you’ll start overthinking the angles and forget to breathe.”

She finally turned, eyes flashing. God, even exhausted she was lethal. “Ten minutes.”

“Bed.”

“Five.”

“Now.”

Nico made a theatrical gagging noise behind us. “Dad voice. Terrifying. Do it again.”

I didn’t take my eyes off Sage. “Go back to bed, little killer.”

She opened her mouth, ready to argue, ready to cut me into pieces I’d thank her for, so I sweetened the blade.

“And if you do,” I murmured, dipping close enough that only she could hear it, “I’ll reward you.”

Her stare went from defiant to curious in a heartbeat. “What kind of reward?”

“The kind you can’t buy,” I said, letting it hang a second. “Get under my covers in the next sixty seconds, and you’ll find out. I let my voice drop. “And I’ll run tonight exactly your way. Your script. Your words in my ear. Every step.”

Behind us, Nico gagged louder. “I am begging the universe to mute me.”

I didn’t blink. “Go back to bed, little killer.”

She held my stare a second longer, testing the wire between us. Then she stood, a little too fast, the tremor in her left hand betraying her even as the rest of her stayed stone. I was already there, scooping her up before pride could make her argue.

“Show–off,” she muttered into my throat, but she curled into me like she always does when she lets herself.

Nico rolled his chair back with mock disgust. “Please transport your murder girlfriend elsewhere. Some of us are trying to pretend this is

1/3

12:48 Mon, Oct 20

Rewards

a professional environment.”

“Prep comms,” I said over my shoulder. “Mirror the city cams, build me a three–block bubble that looks live.”

“On it, Dad Voice.”

76

I carried her down the hall, past the quiet rooms, into mine. Set her on the mattress and tucked the blanket over her legs. She caught my

wrist.

“You promised a reward.”

“I did.” I smirked. I crossed to the closet, pulled a small Pelican case from the top shelf, and set it on the nightstand. Flipped the latches. Her eyes sharpened. Inside lay a matte–black push dagger, double–edged, the handle wrapped in dark green paracord. Etched along the blade’s spine: a single, small sage leaf.

Her breath hitched; she didn’t touch it. Not yet.

“For you,” I said.

She remained silent, gently letting her fingers trace the edges of the leaf.

“Do you…like it?” I asked suddenly nervous.

Her eyes flicked up to mine quickly. “I’ll be honest, when you said reward, I had something else in mind…but this is beautiful, thank you.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

She shrugs, lifting the knife and testing its weight in her hand. “I thought maybe you’d lick my pussy.” She says casually, like she didn’t just cause my heart to skip a beat.

My throat went dry. “Jesus Christ, Sage.”

She tilted her head, that sly little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “What? Too much for you, big guy?”

“Too much?” I laughed, low and disbelieving, stepping closer until the air between us charged. “Sweetheart, you almost died yesterday, and you’re sitting there asking me to eat your pussy like it’s a fucking bedtime snack.”

She arched a brow, pressing the blade flat against her thigh, careless in a way that made my pulse spike. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

I swallowed hard, every muscle in my body caught between hauling her beneath me and wrapping her in bubble wrap. “You’re insane.”

“And you love it.”

Her words were matter–of–fact, no hesitation, no softness. Just truth. And fuck, she was right. I reached down, snapped the case shut with one hand, and leaned over her, Jetting my lips brush her ear. “Careful, little killer. You keep talking like that, and I’ll forget you’re still supposed to be resting.”

She shivered. And smiled. “Go on then.”

Every muscle in my body went tight. I studied her face, the challenge there, the bruises peeking from under the collar of my shirt she’d

2/3

12:48 Mon, Oct 20

Rewards

:

stolen. She was fragile, but fuck if she didn’t look like she could tear me apart.

“Lie back,” I said quietly,

ผลง

76

For once, she listened, reclining against the pillows, dagger still balanced in her palm like she was testing me. I slid it gently from her fingers and set it aside. “Not this kind of sharp tonight, little killer.”

Her chest rose and fell, shallow but steady, and I lowered myself between her knees. Careful, always careful, I parted her thighs, my palms firm against the soft skin. She was already warm, already slick, her body betraying her hunger even as the bruises across her ribs reminded me to keep my movements controlled. Her breath hitched when my mouth finally touched her. Slow, steady strokes of my tongue, deliberate, reverent. I wasn’t devouring her, I was worshipping her, making her feel every ounce of patience I’d been storing for weeks.

“Conner,” she whispered, broken and sharp all at once. Her fingers slipped into my hair, weak but commanding.

1 pressed her deeper into the mattress with my hands, anchoring her, giving her the safety to let go. “That’s it, sweetheart,” I murmured against her heat. “Let me take care of you. You earned this.”

Her hips twitched, the moan spilling from her lips almost more than I could take. But I kept it slow. Careful. She deserved to feel wanted, not rushed. And when she finally shattered on my tongue, quiet and trembling, I held her through it, kissing her thighs, her stomach, her scars, until she went limp under my touch, spent but safe.

I lifted my head, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and smirked at her. “Better than a knife?”

Her lips curved lazily. “Depends how sharp your tongue really is.”

Her breathing was still uneven, but her body had melted into the mattress, pliant and warm. I shifted up beside her, careful not to jostle her stitches. The sheets were a tangled mess from her earlier movements, so I smoothed them out, sliding the fabric up over her bare legs. I fluffed the pillow beneath her head, tilting it just so, then tugged another cushion closer to keep her side propped at a safer angle.

She blinked up at me, drowsy, stubborn even in her haze. “Don’t fuss.”

I kissed her temple, lingering there, breathing her in. “Too late. Fussing’s part of the package.”

Chapter Comments

Tanya Gordon

4 days ago

I Love How Careful He is with Her

19