flow right now, Z? You feel that territorial urge? You've bonded with her."
Z wanted to deny it, but that was tough to do, considering the linebacker routine he'd just pulled. And the fact that he still had his hands around the male's throat.
V's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your path out of hell is waiting for you. She's down that hall, man. Don't be a fool. Go to her. It'll take care of both of you."
Z swung his leg up and dismounted, letting himself roll onto the floor. To avoid thinking about paths out and females and sex, he wondered idly what had happened to the blunt he'd been smoking. Glancing over at the window, he found he'd had the decency to balance it on the sill before he'd launched at Vishous like a rocket.
Well, wasn't he a gentleman.
"She can heal you," V said.
"I'm not looking to be healed. Besides, I don't want to get her pregnant, you feel me? What a fucking mess that would be."
"Is it her first time?"
"I don't know."
"If it is, the chances are practically zero."
" 'Practically' isn't good enough. What else can ease her?"
Phury spoke up from the bed. "You've still got the morphine, right? You know, that syringe I prepared from what Havers left? So use it. I've heard that's what unmated females do."
V sat up, balancing his thick arms on his knees. As he pushed his hair back, the sprawling tattoo at his right temple flashed. "It won't completely take care of the problem, but sure as shit it's better than nothing."
Another shock wave of heat rippled through the air. The three of them groaned and were momentarily incapacitated, their bodies whacking out, straining, wanting to go where they were needed, where they could be used to ease a female's pain.
As soon as Z was able to, he got to his feet. As he left, Vishous was climbing back onto Phury's bed and lighting up again.
When Z was back at the other end of the house, he braced himself before he reentered his room. Opening the door he didn't dare look in her direction as he forced his body over to the bureau.
He found the syringes and picked up the one Phury had filled. Taking a deep breath, he turned around, only to discover that the bed was empty.
"Bella?" He walked over. "Bella, where..."
He found her crumpled on the floor, a pillow between her legs, her body trembling.
She started to sob as he knelt beside her. "It hurts..."
"Oh, God... I know, nalla." He brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'll take care of you."
"Please... it hurts so badly." She rolled over, her breasts tight and bright red at the tips... Beautiful. Irresistible. "It hurts. It hurts so badly. Zsadist, it won't stop. It's getting worse. It h - "
In a massive surge, she undulated wildly, a blast of energy coming out of her body. The strength of the hormones she emitted blinded him, and he got so caught up in his body's beastly response that he didn't feel anything... even as she grabbed his forearm with enough force to bend his bones.
When the peak faded, he wondered if she'd broken his wrist. It wasn't that he cared about the pain; he would take any of that she needed to give him. But if she was hanging onto him that desperately, he could just imagine what she was going through in her insides.
With a wince, he realized she'd bit her lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. He wiped the blood off her mouth with his thumb. Then had to rub the stuff on his pant leg so he didn't lap it up and want more.
"Nalla..." He looked at the syringe in his hand.
Do it, he said to himself. Drug her. Take the hurt away.
"Bella, I need to know something."
"What?" she moaned.
"Is this your first time?"
She nodded her head. "I didn't know it would be this bad妗?, God..."
Her body spasmed again, her legs crushing the pillow.
He glanced back at the syringe. Better than nothing was not good enough for her, but his releasing into her seemed like a sacrilege. Goddamn it, his ejaculations were the worse of the two piss-poor options she had, but biologically speaking, he could do more for her than the morphine.
Z reached up and put the needle on the bedside table. Then he stood and kicked off his boots while he peeled his shirt over his head. He unzipped his fly, springing that hideous, aching length, and stepped