Lover Reborn (Black Dagger Brotherhood #10) - J. R. Ward Page 0,180

shrugged. “Well, frankly, I can’t believe they’re still looking for him. Matter of fact, it’s a surprise that that bastard is still breathing.”

“So you’ve seen him lately.”

At that, his grid lit up in one specific sector—obstruction. He was hiding something from her.

She smiled coldly. “Haven’t you, Assail.”

“Listen, I’m going to give you some free advice. I know you’re all leather wearing and tough and a self-actualized female of the world, but you don’t want to have anything to do with that guy. Have you seen what he looks like? You’re mated to a pretty boy like John Matthew, you don’t need—”

“I’m not looking to fuck the bastard.”

Her deliberately crass language made him blink. “Indeed. And, ah, good for you. As for myself, I haven’t seen him. Not even that night he ambushed Wrath.”

Liar, she thought.

When Assail spoke next, his voice was very low. “Leave that male alone. You don’t want to get in his path—he’s got less mercy than I have.”

“So you think only the big boys should deal with him.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

As he put the Jag in gear, she stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. Too frickin’ typical. What was it about the cock and balls that made males think they had a lock on strength?

“I’ll see you around, neighbor,” she drawled.

“I’m serious about Xcor.”

“Oh, I can tell you are.”

He shook his head. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”

As he drove off, she thought, Wrong pronoun there, buddy. Wrong goddamn pronoun …

FIFTY-FOUR

A

utumn was dead asleep when she was joined in the bed, but even in her deep, nearly painful repose, she knew whose hands came upon her skin, and traveled over her hip, and eased up her stomach. She knew exactly who cupped her breasts and rolled her over.

For sex.

Cool air hit her skin as the covers were folded aside, and on instinct she parted her legs, preparing to welcome the one male she would e’er take within her.

She was ready for Tohrment. Had seemed in recent weeks to always be ready for him.

Handy—as he would have said. As he was always ready for her.

Her great warrior found his way between her thighs, opening them further with his hips—no, those were now his hands, as if he had had one plan and then changed his mind—

His mouth found her, locking on, then licking.

With her eyes still closed and her mind in that fuzzy netherworld that was neither sleep nor awakening, the pleasure was so intense she bucked and thrashed against his tongue, giving herself over to him with everything she had as he sucked and teased and penetrated. …

Except there was no orgasm for her. No matter how much he pleasured her.

Try as she might to capture the release, she couldn’t fall off the edge, pleasure sharpening to the point of agony—and still she could find no climax, even as sweat beaded up her skin, and breath sawed in her throat.

Desperation made her grab his head and press him harder against her.

Except then he disappeared.

This was naught but a nightmare, she thought as she cried out at the denial. A torturous dream with erotic overtones—

Tohrment surged back at her, and this time it was his full body against her own. Tucking his arms behind her knees, he split her wide as he cranked her into a tight little ball underneath his great weight.

And then he entered, hard and fast.

Now she came. The instant he filled her with that long length of his, her body responded with a tremendous, cracking explosion, the orgasm so violent she bit her own lip with both fangs.

As blood flooded her mouth, he slowed his pounding to lap it up. But she didn’t want slow. Using his arms to push against with her legs, she found her own rhythm against his shaft, riding him, taking him … until she soon found herself again on the verge.

And going nowhere.

In the beginning, it had been so easy for her to get what she needed when they mated. Lately, though, it was harder and harder. …

As she strained against him, pumping herself faster and faster, her frustration made her wild.

She bit him.

In the shoulder.

Scored him. With her nails.

The combination should have had him stopping and demanding more civilized behavior. Instead, with his blood flowing onto her, he let out a roar so mighty there was a crash in the room, as if it had rattled something off the wall.

Then he orgasmed. And thank the sweet Virgin Scribe for his release. As he jabbed into her and