Lover Avenged (Black Dagger Brotherhood #7) - J. R. Ward Page 0,154

with him, her sex gripping his and pulling at him, keeping him deep inside.

With breathless demand, she said, “Take my vein—”

He hissed like a predator and went for her neck, biting hard.

Beth’s body jerked under his, and between their hips he felt a welling warmth that had nothing to do with what he’d left behind inside her. In his mouth, her blood was the gift of life, thick on his tongue and down his throat, filling his belly with a furnace of heat, lighting up his flesh from the inside out.

His hips took over as he drank, pleasuring her, pleasuring himself, and when he had his fill, he lapped at his bite marks, then went at her again, reaching down and stretching up one of her legs so he could get even deeper as he pounded hard. After he came in another rush, he palmed the back of her head and brought her lips to his throat.

He didn’t get a chance to voice a demand. She bit him, and the instant her sharp points punctured his skin and he felt the sweet sting of pain, he orgasmed again, more brutally than all the others: The knowledge that he had what she needed and wanted, that she was living off of what beat through his veins, was erotic as fuck.

When his shellan was finished and had closed the wounds by licking them, he rolled over onto his back and kept them joined, hoping to—

Oh, yeah, he got good and ridden. As she became the master, he went to palm her breasts and found that she still had her nightgown on, so he whisked it over her head and tossed it to who-the-hell-cared. Finding her breasts again, the weights were so heavy and full in his palms that he had to arch up and take one of her nipples into his mouth. He suckled as she pumped them both off until it became too difficult to maintain the connection and he had to let his upper body fall back to the bed.

Beth cried out, and then he did, and then they were both coming together. Afterward, she collapsed off of him and they lay side by side, panting.

“That was amazing,” she breathed.

“Fucking amazing.”

He patted around in the dark until he found her hand, and they stayed there together for a while.

“I’m hungry,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“Here, let me go and get us something.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” He tugged on her hand, drawing her to him, kissing her. “You are the best female a male could ever have.”

“I love you, too.”

As if they were plugged into the same outlet, both of their stomachs rumbled.

“Okay, maybe it is time to food up.” Wrath let his shellan go as they laughed together. “Here, let me turn on the light so you can find your nightgown.”

Instantly, he knew something was wrong. Beth stopped chuckling and went dead still.

“Leelan? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Oh, God…he’d been so rough. “I’m sorry—”

She cut him off with a strangled voice. “My light was already on, Wrath. I was reading before you woke up.”

FORTY-ONE

John took his fucking time in Xhex’s shower, washing himself thoroughly not because he was dirty, but because he figured two could play at the whole wipe-the-slate-clean, what-happened-didn’t-happen thing.

After she’d left however many hours and hours ago, his first thought had been a bad one. He wasn’t going to lie: All he’d wanted to do was walk straight out into the sun and just be done with this loser-ass joke called life.

There were so many things he failed at. He couldn’t talk. He sucked at math. His fashion sense, if left to its own devices, was anemic. He wasn’t particularly good with emotions. He usually lost at gin rummy and always at poker. And there were a lot of other shortcomings.

But sucking at sex was the worst of them all.

As he’d lain in Xhex’s bed and considered the merits of self-immolation, he’d wondered why the fact that he was a mess when it came to fucking seemed more important than any other deficiency.

Maybe it was because the newest chapter in his sex life had taken him into even rockier, more hostile territory. Maybe it was because the most recent disaster was so fresh.

Maybe it was because it was the last straw.

The way he saw it, he’d had sex twice, and both times he’d been taken, once violently and against his will and then however many hours ago with his total, full-bodied consent. The aftermath