The Mech Who Loved Me (The Blue Blood Conspiracy Book 2)

by Bec McMaster

  "I love you," Ava whispered. "And I'll be waiting for you when you wake."

  * * *

  Kincaid groaned. "Too much... light."

  His eyes ached. He pressed his palm into them, but something held his other hand back.

  "You've lost your mech hand," Ava said gently, and he realized she was pinning his left arm to the bed so he couldn't use it. "We've bound it up, but you might hurt yourself with the stump."

  His mouth watered again, every scent that spoke of Ava dominating his senses. She felt warm. So warm.

  The light dimmed as she turned the gas lamp down as low as it could go.

  "How do you feel?" Ava murmured, and her pale face swam into view.

  Insanely hungry. How the hell had she managed to abstain from drinking blood for so long?

  Ava saw it in his face and tipped the flask of blood to his lips. It wasn't disgusting anymore, and maybe that was what frightened him the most. Had he become what he despised? Or was this... new territory to be explored, a new life to begin, just a sidestep of the man he'd truly been.

  "I'm sorry," Ava whispered, and something pricked his arm. "Malloryn insisted I sedate you, or I wasn't allowed to be in here with you alone."

  "Won't hurt you...." He was feeling sleepy again.

  "You're newly made. You don't understand the full extent of the changes to your body." Ava hesitated. "You wouldn't mean to do it, but the craving... it's quite powerful when you're freshly made, and you were injured so badly your craving virus levels spiked immediately. You're already sitting at 12 percent, which is rather high after only three days."

  Three days?

  The spike of anxiety faded as warmth flooded through him. Somehow he captured her hand, sinking into the soft pillows. He blinked sleepily.

  "Promise you'll stay?" he whispered.

  Ava rested her elbows on the bed, giving him a tremulous smile as she kissed his hand. "Not even Malloryn could drag me out. I'll be here when you wake again. I promise."

  * * *

  Another three days passed.

  Ava grew restless, pacing the small room when Kincaid slept, and tucking up beside his broad body when she needed rest. Every time he opened his eyes, she poured blood into him, and sedated him afterwards as soon as she could.

  Sometimes she cried, though of course, no tears formed. And it was silly to cry, because he'd lived, but she'd been so certain in those blackest moments she was losing him. Perhaps that was what brought on the sobs—her mind's struggle to realize he'd actually survived.

  It was during one such moment Kincaid woke. The first Ava knew of it, his hand was stroking through her hair as she knelt beside the bed and stifled the sobs in the mattress.

  "Come here, kitten," he whispered.

  So Ava slid into his warm blankets and the wide-open arms that greeted her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

  "Just don't sedate me yet," he murmured, dragging her against his chest. "Why are you crying, Ava?"

  "I thought you were dead. It was so close. You stopped breathing, and I didn't know what to do, and I know this isn't what you wanted—"

  "Isn't it?" He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Ava, there was a reason I never got the craving virus vaccination."

  She looked up into his scruff-jawed face.

  Kincaid released a heavy breath. "You're right. A part of me didn't want this to happen, even as a part of me knew it might be my only hope. But I don't think I would have taken that step, not until I met you and realized we could have forever together." "Forever?" she breathed.

  "Forever," he insisted, and then rolled onto his side so they were sharing the pillow and staring into each other's eyes. Kincaid stroked her thick hair off her face. "I'm an idiot, Ava. But I don't look a gift horse in the mouth. You and I have been given a miracle. And... I have a new proposition for you."

  "What sort of proposition?"

  Kincaid captured her face and turned it up to his. "The kind I think you'll like. Marry me, Ava. Marry me and spend all our years at my side. Let me love you every day."

  Happiness spilled within her. "I didn't think you were the marrying type."

  "Nor do I mess with virgins, women who have their hearts in their eyes, or blue bloods," he said solemnly, and then smiled. "You've ruined all my rules, made me throw them straight out the window. I'm head over heels for you, kitten. And I don't like the way the Major Winthrops of the world look at you. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it." He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. "Especially you. I want you to know you're mine, Ava, because you have this terrible habit of doubting yourself, and I won't have that. Be my wife. Let me love you. We can sort out all the rest."

  Ava threw her arms around him, capturing his mouth in a blistering kiss.

  "Was that a yes?" Kincaid drawled, rolling her onto her back and settling between her thighs.

  "Yes!" she cried, so deliriously happy she wished she could capture this moment and freeze it somehow, so she could look back on it and smile every day. There were still many things to work out, but she felt like they could compromise. She'd always wanted children, but there was no reason they couldn't adopt, if he wished not to have his own.

  "Excellent," he purred, and kissed her again, this time setting her ablaze. "Because I'm having a hard time concentrating right now. Is it always like this?"

  "Like what?"

  "An overwhelming, relentless urge to fuck, to mark your skin a little, as if I can put my own brand there."

  "No." She captured his face and kissed him. "Not until I met you, anyway."

  Kincaid groaned, his hand restless down her side, and his hips insistent. He drove her down into the sheets, his hard body pressing over her, rubbing against her clitoris in little half thrusts.

  The others had warned her about this. Blood wasn't the only hunger that would have awoken within him. Yes, he'd always been virile, but this was an almost mating intensity. Blue bloods were territorial with those they considered their own, and all his lusts—for blood or for flesh—would be stirred to an almost virulent fever pitch.

  "Ava," he breathed as he shoved her nightgown up between them.

  She pulled him down to her, letting her thighs cradle his hips. Yes. She wanted this man, wanted to claim him herself. Heat rose within her, primal urges demanding she let him take her.

  Then his mouth was on hers, and his erection was pressing inside her, filling her in one hard thrust. She wasn't quite ready, and gasped, catching hold of his nightshirt.

  "Gentle," she whispered, feeling him still inside her.

  Kincaid groaned, and buried his face in the pillow beside her throat. His hips rocked a little, his hand capturing hers, fingers webbing together as he pinned her left hand to the bed. She could feel him trying to be ever so careful with her, fighting the urge to claim her. And she didn't want to wait.

  Ava slid her fingers between them, finding that sensitive area between her thighs. The first touch sent need spiraling through her, and Kincaid lifted his hips just enough to allow her access.

  "That's it," he whispered. "Make yourself wet for me."

  Her body clenched around him, her fingers pushing her closer to the edge. "Fuck me," she whispered, earning a startled thrust from him. "And don't stop, my love."

  His ruined mech stump caught in her nightgown. Kincaid growled under his breath, and Ava decided enough was enough. Thrusting a hand against his shoulder, she shoved him flat onto his back, rolling as he went. Her nightgown fell around her legs, and she settled herself over those powerful thighs, the hard thrust of his erection slipping free from her body and rasping against her hip.

  Kincaid blinked up at her, then his mouth softened into a rusty smile. "Well now, kitten. Are you going to ride me?"

  "Perhaps. Soon." Ava leaned down, nuzzling his jaw. "But I seem to recall some unfulfilled experiments. Some paintings we never quite got around to emulating. And you're hurt. Let me take care of you."

  His eyes smoldered. "What pr
ecisely did you have in mind?"

  A thrill ran through her. In all their previous encounters, he'd been firmly in control, and while she enjoyed him taking her in hand, she was also curious. Ava slid her palms up his bare chest, running her fingers over the heavy slabs of his pectoral muscles. "Perhaps... a little practical experimentation to align with my theory."

  He caressed her hair, wrapping one of her blonde curls around his finger. "Say it."

  Ava bent and kissed his chest, never taking her eyes off him. "I would like to... cuddle."

  He frowned, and then recognition dawned. Kincaid tugged on the strand of hair. "Tease."

  She laughed breathlessly, heat curling through her abdomen. "I believe the word I'm searching for is 'fellatio.'"

  That hand grabbed a fistful of her hair. "Suck my cock, Ava." His hips gave a small flex beneath her. "Before you torture me too much. I feel a little... restless."

  That would be the craving virus driving him to claim her. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  "Does it hurt?" She kissed her way lower, playing along. She'd never felt like this before, curiously free to explore her own sexuality. Powerful in a way.

  "A little." His abdomen tensed, and a slow breath poured out of him. "Kiss it better, sweetheart."

  Ava bent and pressed her lips to the tip of his erection. He sucked in a sharp breath, freezing beneath her. How curious. One touch, one caress, and he was like putty in her hands.

  "More," he groaned.

  Ava licked him, capturing the base of his cock with both hands and then tentatively opening her mouth around the purple, glistening head of him. Salt wept in her mouth, a hint of how close he was to the edge, and so she swallowed him down, testing to see how this worked, before coming back up.

  The wet pop of her mouth was loud, and then he was thrusting into her throat, deeper than she'd expected. Deeper perhaps than she was prepared to take. Kincaid groaned, and reached up behind him to grip the timber slats on the bedhead with his one hand. "Fuck. Sorry. Just let me hold on, and try and behave."

  "I like seeing you so undone," she whispered, bending back to her task and swallowing him again, the head of his cock sliding smoothly into her throat, as far as she could take him before her throat rebelled. Ava bobbed up and down, watching the way he moaned, the way his fist flexed tighter around the bedhead, his hips thrusting. Helpless gestures, as if he simply couldn't control himself.

  She did this to him.

  Took a man noted for his iron control, and obliterated it.

  "Ava." The word exploded out of him, and he caught a fistful of her hair with his good hand, the other bumping uselessly against her. "Up. I want to be inside you."

  Ava straddled his lap as he sat up, sliding into the V of his hips. His cock brushed against the curls between her thighs, and then he slid one hand down her hips, capturing her bottom and pressing her hard against him. She gasped. Fucking him with her mouth had made her wet, and the slick ache between her thighs demanded fulfillment.

  "That's it," he rasped, the blunt head of his cock finding her. "Ride me."

  He thrust up just as she slid down, and suddenly they were locked together again, two beings forming into one. Ava moaned, capturing his mouth as her hips rocked, taking in his thick length. He'd always been a big man, but it was easier to manage how much of him she took in this way.

  Kincaid kissed her breasts, shoving her nightgown down over her shoulder to reveal them, and tearing it a little. She didn't care. She was wild with need, desperate to stake her own claim on his flesh.

  "I love you," she cried softly, as her body began to tighten and he suckled on her nipple. "Oh my goodness."

  And he laughed at the prim tone of her words, riding her through her orgasm, his hand more insistent upon her hip as he bared his teeth in a wordless snarl and came inside her with a spill of heat.

  Kincaid collapsed back on the pillow, and Ava wilted over him, the thick mass of her golden curls spilling over them. He pushed some of it out of his face with a laugh, then rubbed her back, his cock softening inside her. "Stay like this."

  She burrowed her face into his throat, feeling like she'd finally found a home for herself. Kincaid stroked her hair, twining each curl around his finger, the relentless urge to mark her clearly softening into affection as they cuddled each other and slowly caught their breaths.

  His abdominal muscles flexed as he curled so he could look down into her eyes. An intimate confession turned his own gaze molten. "Perfect, Ava. You and I are perfect. I love you."

  And Ava smiled with pure happiness, and fell asleep in his arms.

  Thirty-One

  THERE WAS SOMEONE in his room.

  Someone who was not Ava.

  Kincaid woke with a growl, his vision sliding through shades of gray. Every sense was alive in a way he'd never known before, when he was human. Malloryn came into focus, standing by the window and looking out, his hands clasped behind him and his face awash in the cool afternoon light. Kincaid automatically winced as that very same light stabbed his eyes.

  "Good afternoon," the duke said. "You're looking better."

  "Where's Ava?"

  "Definitely better, if one is to judge by the surliness in your tone," Malloryn said, with no small amount of amusement, dragging the chair out beside Kincaid's bed and sinking into it. "Ava has gone to visit her friends at the guild, to make sure the guild master is all right."

  "And is he?" He owed Garrett and Perry a debt, after all, for taking care of Ava for all those years.

  "Garrett's wound has healed," Malloryn said, "though the next stage is to fit him with a biomech arm. Lynch and I pushed the Council to pay for it, considering all he's done for the city."

  "Takes a bit of getting used to," he said, looking down at the ruined stump of his own hand. "I can show him how it all works."

  "Ava would be appreciative of that, I think. How are you feeling?"

  He considered the question. Every day he felt better than he ever had. There was a strength in his legs and arms he'd not realized was lacking. Every step he took was stronger, and he no longer feared falling.

  The craving virus had worked. He'd not be 100 percent certain his illness had abated, until he had a chance to test his limits—or perhaps until years passed and he could be certain he wasn't getting worse—but hope filled him.

  "As fit as a bull," he confessed.

  "And mentally? The craving's not easy to get used to."

  Heat flushed through Kincaid's cheeks. "Insanely irrational," he admitted. "Territorial. All my emotions seem heightened, and I have... strong urges at times." The last few days ran through his head in a sudden series of vignettes; of fucking Ava over and over, interspersed with moments where he drained a flask of blood dry, before he took her again.

  The duke couldn't be referring to that, but all the same....

  "Is it always like this?" he growled. The others seemed to be able to control themselves in polite company, but at just the thought of her, his cock was stiffening again.

  "Not... always. You're facing a dilemma few blue bloods encounter. Not only are you newly changed, but it seems you're also claiming a female."

  "Claiming her?"

  "I'm told it's a phenomenon that occurs when blue bloods give themselves over to the primal nature of the blue blood within whenever they meet their match."

  Kincaid scraped a hand through his unruly black hair. He needed a shave by the feel of it too. "Jaysus."

  "Indeed." Malloryn shuddered, as if the thought horrified him a little. No doubt it did, for the duke lived and breathed control. "What do you remember?"

  The memory of the duke breathing into his mouth sprang to mind. "Were you fuckin' resuscitating me?"

  Malloryn paused, his knuckles whitening on the hilt of his cane, an odd look on his face. "That is one of those moments we shall never speak of again."

  Fine with him. "Right. It never happened." He could remember other things too, and none of it made sense. "You came back
for us. And you carried me out of there."

  Malloryn arched a brow. "I only wear my monster-who-crushes-humans-beneath-his-heel face on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You were in luck. It was Thursday. Hero day. Besides, you saved my life in that factory. I'm a duke. We never allow ourselves to fall into debt to others."

  Kincaid grimaced. "I think I owe you one now."

  "Who's counting?" Malloryn asked, but his smile was evil.

  "Thank you."

  "Wonders never cease," Malloryn said, in a tone that mocked both of them.

  Kincaid slumped back onto the pillows. He didn't want to like this man, but perhaps they had more in common than they'd expected. "What happened to the girl? The one you loved."

  Silence was his only answer. He didn't think Malloryn was going to reply, until—

  "It's the sort of thing I share only with my nearest and dearest."

  "Aren't we friends now?" Kincaid drew his arm up to rest behind his head and smiled at the duke.

  Who stared at him flatly.

  "I got her killed," the duke said, very softly. "She belonged to someone else, and in my youthful infatuation, I believed I was invincible. That I could take what was his and walk away unscathed. The man she belonged to shot her, right in front of me. Straight through the heart."

  Kincaid rolled his head on the pillow to look at the duke. If that was Ava, he would have burned the world to ashes to get revenge. "What happened to him?"

  Malloryn's smile was chilling. "I spent the next ten years searching for a way to destroy him."

  "Did you succeed?"

  "Oh, yes." Malloryn's tone could have frozen an entire sea. "I ruined his every scheme. I destroyed his puppet prince consort, burned his little kingdom to the ground, set his tower ablaze, and then I cut his throat from ear to ear the night the revolution occurred. He managed to escape at the time, but I found his body later in the yard with a bullet to the chest. I wanted to burn his corpse, but the queen insisted he be buried. She wanted Lord Balfour to rot instead, and it seemed fitting."