her mouth against his, loved having her right up close all in his face, loved her breath in his lungs, loved... her? Was that what had happened in the night? Had he fallen?
The bonding scent that was all over the both of them gave him his answer. And the realization should have shocked him, but he was too tired to bother to fight it.
Bella eased up and slid the it inside of her. As beat as he was, he groaned in ecstasy. The feel of her was something he couldn't get enough of, and he knew it wasn't because of her needing.
She rode him, planting her hands on his pecs and finding a rhythm with her hips because he couldn't thrust anymore with his. He felt himself gearing up for another explosion, especially as he watched her breasts sway with her movements.
"You are so beautiful," he said in his hoarse voice.
She paused to bend down and kiss him again, her dark hair falling around him, a gentle shelter. When she straightened, he marveled at the sight of her. She was glowing with health and vitality from everything he had given her, a resplendent female who he...
Loved. Yes, loved.
That was the thought that shot through his brain as he came inside of her again.
Bella collapsed on top of him, exhaled in a shudder, and suddenly the needing was over. The roaring female energy just drifted out of the room, a storm that had passed. Sighing in relief, she shifted off of him, separating her gorgeous sex from his thing. As the it flopped lifeless on his belly, he felt the cold of the room on that flesh, so unappealing compared to her warmth.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes..." she whispered, settling on her side, already easing into sleep. "Yes, Zsadist... yes."
She was going to need food, he thought. He needed to go get her food.
Gathering his will, he took a deep breath, and another and another... and finally forced his upper body off the bed. His head swam wildly, the furniture and the floor and the walls spinning, trading places, until he wasn't sure whether he was on the ceiling or not.
The vertigo got worse as he shifted his legs off the mattress, and when he stood his balance deserted him completely. He fell into the wall, slamming into the thing, and had to hold himself up by clinging to some drapes.
When he was ready, he pushed free and leaned down to her. Lifting her up in his arms was a struggle, but his need to care for her was stronger than the exhaustion. He took her to his pallet and laid her down, then covered her with the comforter they'd long ago shoved to the floor. He was turning away when she took his arm.
"You have to feed," she said, trying to draw him close. "Come to my throat."
Page 209
J R Ward: Lover Awakened
God, he was tempted.
"I'll be back," he said, stumbling to his feet. He lurched over to the closet and drew on a pair of boxers. Then he stripped the bed of the sheets and mattress pad and left.
Phury opened his eyes and realized he couldn't breathe.
Which made sense, he supposed. His face was mashed into a wad of blankets. He moved his mouth and nose free of the jam-up and tried to get his eyes to focus. The first thing he saw, about six inches from his head, was an ashtray full of dead blunts. On the floor.
What the hell? Oh.. .He was hanging off the foot of the mattress.
When he heard a groan, he shoved himself up, turned his head around-and came face-to-face with one of Vishous's feet. Beyond the size-fourteen was Butch's thigh.
Phury had to laugh, and that brought the cop's groggy gaze up out of a pillow. The human looked over himself and then Phury. He blinked a couple of times, like he was hoping to wake up for real.
"Oh, man," he said with more gravel than voice. Then he glanced at Vishous, who was passed out next to him.
"Oh... man, this is too weird."
"Get over yourself, cop. You're not that attractive."
"Fair enough." He scrubbed his face. "But that doesn't mean I'm all into waking up with two men."
"V told you not to come back."
"True. That was my bad call."
Talk about a long night. Eventually, when even the feel of clothing against their skin had gotten to be too much, they'd lost any pretense of modesty. It had just been a matter of enduring the