by J. R. Ward
Before she could reply he began to move back, so she sat up and captured his face in her hands.
"You can do whatever you like to me."
His eyes flashed and he held his position for a split second.
Then he lunged at her, taking her down onto the bed. His tongue shot into her mouth and his hands tangled in her hair, pulling on her, arching her, trapping her head. The hunger in him was ferocious, a warrior's thick-blooded need for sex. He was going to take her with all the strength he had, and she was going to be sore when he was through using her. Sore and utterly blissed out. She couldn't wait.
Suddenly, he stopped and pulled back from her mouth. He was breathing deeply and had a flush on his cheeks as he looked her in the eye.
And then he smiled at her.
She was so surprised she didn't know what to do. She'd never seen that expression on his face before, and the lift in his mouth did away with the distortion in his upper lip, showing off his gleaming teeth and fangs.
"I like this," he said. "You underneath me… You feel good. You're soft and warm. Do I weigh too much? Here, let me…"
As he propped himself up on his arms, his arousal pressed into her core and his grin faded quick as a gasp. It was as if he didn't like the sensation, but how could that be? He was aroused. She could feel his erection.
With a lithe move he repositioned himself so her legs were closed and his knees were on either side of them. She couldn't guess what had happened, but wherever he'd gone in his head was not a good place.
"You're perfect on top of me," she said to distract him. "Except for one thing."
"What?"
"You've stopped. And lose the shorts."
His weight came down on her immediately and his mouth went to the side of her neck. As he nipped at her skin, she pushed her head back into the pillow and bared the column of her throat. Gripping the back of his head, she urged him against her vein.
"Oh, yes…" she moaned, wanting him to feed.
He made a noise that was a no, but before the rejection could ripple through her, he was kissing his way down to her collarbone.
"I want to latch onto your breast," he said against her skin.
"Do it."
"You need to know something first."
"What?"
He lifted his head. "The night you came here… when I bathed you? I did my best not to look at you. I really did. I covered you with a towel even though you were in the water."
"That was kind—"
"But when I took you out… I saw these." His hand captured one of her breasts. "I couldn't help it. I swear. I tried to allow you your modesty, but you were… I couldn't stop my eyes. Your nipple was tight from the chill of the air. So small and pink. Lovely."
He moved his thumb back and forth across her hard tip, scrambling her mind.
"It's all right," she mumbled.
"It wasn't. You were defenseless and I was wrong to look at you."
"No, you—"
He shifted, and his erection pressed into the top of her thighs. "This happened."
"What hap—Oh, you got aroused?"
His mouth tightened. "Yeah. I couldn't stop it."
She smiled a little. "But you didn't do anything, right?"
"No."
"So it's okay." She arched her back and watched as his eyes clung to her breasts. "Kiss me, Zsadist. Right where you're looking. Right now."
His lips parted, and his tongue led the way as he dipped down. His mouth was warm on her flesh, and so very tentative, kissing, then sucking her nipple inside. He tugged, then ran a languid circle around her, then drew her in again… and all the while his hands stroked her waist and her hips and her legs.
How ironic that he'd worried he wouldn't be gentle. Far from brutal, he was positively reverent as he suckled, his lashes down against his cheek as he savored her, his face worshipful and rapt.
"Christ," he murmured, moving to her other breast. "I had no idea it would be like this."
"How… so?" Oh, God… His mouth…
"I could tongue you forever."
She grasped his head with her hands, pulling him closer. And it took some wriggling, but she managed to split her legs and get one out from under him so that he was almost lying in the cradle of her body. She was dying to feel his arousal, except he just hovered over her.
When he pulled back she protested, but then his hands went to the insides of her thighs and he moved down her body. As he spread her legs, the mattress began to quiver underneath her.
Zsadist's whole body shook as he looked at her. "You're so delicate… and you glisten."
The first stroke of his finger down her core nearly threw her over the edge. As she let out a hoarse sound, his eyes flashed to hers and he cursed. "Goddamn it, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm trying to be careful—"
She grabbed his hand before he could take it away. "More…"
He looked doubtful for a moment. Then he touched her again. "You're perfect. And God, you're soft. I've got to know…"
He leaned down, his shoulders bunching up hard. She felt a velvet brush.
His lips.
This time when she jacked up off the bed and said his name, he just pressed another kiss to her again, and then there was the wet stroke of his tongue. As he lifted his head and swallowed, the growl of ecstasy he made stopped her heart in her chest. Their eyes met.
"Oh… Jesus… you're delicious," he said, going back down with his mouth.
He stretched out on the bed, looping his arms under her knees and overflowing the space between her thighs… a male who wasn't going anywhere for a long while. His breath was hot and needy, his mouth hungry and desperate. He explored her with an erotic compulsion, licking and probing with his tongue, sucking with his lips.
When her hips bucked, one of his arms moved across her stomach, holding her in place. She lurched again and he paused without lifting his head.
"Are you okay?" he asked, raspy voice muffled, words vibrating into her core.
"Please…" It was the only thing that came to mind.
He pulled back a little, and all she could do was look at his glossy lips and think of where they had been.
"Bella, I don't think I can stop. There's this… roar in my head telling me to keep my mouth on you. How can I make this… okay for you?"
"Make me… finish me," she said hoarsely.
He blinked as if she'd surprised him. "How do I make you come?"
"Just keep doing what you're doing. Only faster."
He was a quick study as he figured out what made her go wild, and he was ruthless once he discovered how to give her an orgasm. He drove her hard, watching her as she shattered apart once, twice… many times. It was as if he fed from her pleasure and was insatiable.
When he finally lifted his head, she was limp.
He looked at her gravely. "Thank you."
"God… I'm the one who should be saying that."
He shook his head. "You let an animal into the most beautiful part of you. I'm the one with the gratitude."
He pushed away from her body, that flush of arousal still in his cheeks. That erection still straining.
She held her arms out to him. "Where are you going? We're not done."
As he hesitated, she remembered. She rolled over onto her stomach and braced herself up on all fours, a shameless offer. When he didn't move, she looked back at him. He'd closed his eyes as if in pain, and that confused her.
"I know you only do it this way," she said softly. "That's what you told me. It's okay with me. Really." There was a long silence. "Zsadist, I want to finish this between us. I want to know you… like this."
He rubbed his face. She thought he was going to leave, but then he shifted around so he was behind her. His hands fell lightly on her hips and he urged her to one side, onto her back.
"But you only—"
"Not with you." His voice was rough. "Not like that with you."
She opened her legs, ready for him, but he
just sat back on his heels.
His breath left on a shudder. "Let me get a condom."
"Why? I'm not fertile now, so you don't need one. And I want you to… finish."
His brows dropped low over his black eyes.
"Zsadist… this hasn't been enough for me. I want to be with you."
She was about to reach for him when he rose up onto his knees and brought his hands to the front of his running shorts. He fumbled with the drawstring and then pulled the elastic waistband out and down, revealing himself.
Bella swallowed hard.
His arousal was enormous. A perfectly beautiful, rock-solid aberration of nature.
Holy… Moses. Would he even fit?
His hands trembled as he hooked the shorts under the twin weights below his erection. Then he leaned over her body, positioning himself at her core.
When she put her hand out to stroke him, he jerked away. "No!" As she recoiled, he cursed. "I'm sorry… Look, just let me take care of it."
He moved his hips forward and she felt the head of him, blunt and hot, against her. His hand came behind one of her knees and he stretched her leg up; then he pushed inside a little, then a little farther. As sweat bloomed over his entire body, a dark scent reached her nose. For a moment, she wondered if…
No, he couldn't be bonding with her. It wasn't in his nature.
"God… you're tight," he croaked. "Oh… Bella, I don't want to tear you up."
"Keep going. Just be slow."
Her body surged under the pressure and the stretching. Even as ready as she was he was an invasion, but she loved it, especially as his breath exploded out of his chest and he shuddered. When he was all the way in, his mouth fell open, his fangs elongating from the pleasure he felt.
She ran her hands up his shoulders, feeling the muscles and the warmth of him.
"This all right?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Bella pressed a kiss to the side of his neck and swiveled her hips. He hissed.
"Make love to me," she said.
He moaned and started to move like a great wave on top of her, that thick, hard part of him stroking the inside of her.
"Oh, shit…" He dropped his head into her neck. His rhythm intensified, his breath shooting out of him, rushing into her ear. "Bella… shit, I'm scared… but I can't… stop…"
With a groan he propped himself up on his arms and let his hips swing freely, each thrust nailing against her, pushing her farther up on the bed. She grabbed for his wrists to hold her body in place under the onslaught. As he pounded, she could feel herself getting near the edge again, and the faster he went, the closer she got.
Her orgasm slammed into her core, then raced throughout her body, the force of it stretching her out so she was infinitely long and infinitely wide. The sensations lasted forever, the contractions of her inner muscles grabbing onto the part of him that penetrated her.
When she was back in her own skin again, she realized he was unmoving, completely frozen above her. Blinking away tears, she looked into his face. The hard angles of it were tense, and so was the rest of his body.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked tightly. "You cried out. Loudly."
She touched his face. "Not from pain."
"Thank God." His shoulders eased as he exhaled. "I couldn't bear to hurt you like this."
He kissed her softly. And then he withdrew and got off the bed, yanking up the shorts as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.
Bella frowned. Had he finished? He'd seemed fully erect as he'd withdrawn.
She slid out of bed and looked down. When there was nothing on the inside of her thighs, she drew on the robe and went after him, not even bothering to knock.
Zsadist's arms were propped on the sink, his head hanging low. He was breathing uneasily and looked fevered, his skin slick, his stance unnaturally stiff.
"What, nalla," he said in a hoarse whisper.
She stopped, unsure she'd heard him right. But she had… Beloved. He'd called her beloved.
"Why didn't you…" She couldn't seem to gel the rest of the words out. "Why did you stop before you…"
When he just shook his head, she went over to him and turned him around. Through the shorts she could see that his arousal was throbbing, painfully rigid. In fact, he looked as if his whole body ached.
"Let me ease you," she said, reaching for him.
He backed up against the marble wall between the shower and the sink. "No, don't… Bella—"
She gathered the robe in her hands and started to kneel down at his feet.
"No!" He dragged her up his body.
She met him right in the eye and went for his waistband. "Let me do this for you."
He grabbed her hands and squeezed her wrists until they hurt.
"I want to do this, Zsadist," she said with strength. "Let me take care of you."
There was a long silence, and she spent the time measuring the sorrow and the yearning and the fear in his eyes. A chill shot through her. She couldn't believe the leap of logic her mind was taking, but she had a really vivid impression that he'd never let himself orgasm before. Or was she just jumping to conclusions?
Whatever. It wasn't like she was about to ask him. He was teetering on the brink of bolting, and if she said or did the wrong thing, he was going to tear out of the room.
"Zsadist, I won't hurt you. And you can be in control. We'll stop if it doesn't feel right. You can trust me."
It was a long time before his grip loosened on her wrists. And then finally he let go and set her back from his body. Haltingly, he pulled down the shorts.
That arousal shot out into the space between them.
"Just hold on to it," he said with a cracked voice.
"You. I'll hold on to you."
When she wrapped her palms around him he let out a moan, and his head fell back. God, he was hard. Hard as iron, yet surrounded by skin soft as his lips.
"You're—"
"Shh," he cut in. "No… talking. I can't… No talking."
He began to move in her grip. Slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, and then his body completely took over with a wild pumping. He was going crazy, shooting higher and higher, his chest and hips so beautiful as he moved in that ancient male surging motion. Paster… faster… jerking back and forth…
Except then he reached some kind of plateau. He was straining, the cords of his neck nearly breaking through his skin, his body covered with sweat. But he couldn't seem to let go.
He stopped, panting. "This isn't going to work."
"Just relax. Relax and let it happen—"
"No. I need…" He took one of her hands and placed it on the sac below his arousal. "Squeeze. Squeeze hard."
Bella's eyes flashed up to his face. "What? I don't want to hurt you—"
He wrapped his hand around hers like a vise and twisted their grips until he cried out. Then he held her other wrist, keeping her palm against his erection.
She struggled against him, fighting to stop the pain he was inflicting on himself, but he was pumping again. And the harder she tried to pull away, the more he crushed her hand to that most tender place on a male. Her eyes went wide and unblinking at the pain of the act, the agony he must be—
Zsadist shouted, his loud bark ricocheting around the marble until she was sure everyone in the mansion must have heard him. Then she felt the mighty jerks of his release, hot pulses dampening her hands and the front of her robe.
He sagged onto her shoulders, his massive body falling all over her. He was breathing like a freight train, his muscles quivering, his big body trembling with aftershocks. When he released his hand from hers, she had to peel her palm from his testicles.
Bella was cold to the bone as she bore the weight of him.
Something ugly had sprouted between them just now, some kind of sexual evil that blurred the distinction between pleasure and pain. And though it made her cruel, she wanted to get away from him
. She wanted to run from the cringing awareness that she had hurt him because he'd made her and he had orgasmed because of it.
Except then his breath caught on a sob. Or at least seemed to.
She held her breath, listening. The soft sound came again, and she felt his shoulders quake.
Oh, my God. He was crying…
She wrapped her arms around him, reminding herself that he hadn't asked to be tortured as he'd been. Nor had he volunteered for the aftereffects.
She tried to lift his head to kiss him, but he fought against her, drawing her close, hiding in her hair. She cradled him, holding him and soothing him as he struggled to mask the fact that he wept. Eventually he pulled back and scrubbed his face with his palms. He refused to meet her eyes as he reached over and turned the shower on.
With a quick yank he stripped the robe from her body, then wadded it up and threw it into the trash.
"Wait, I like that robe—"
"I'll buy you a new one."
He urged her under the water. When she fought him he picked her up easily, put her in the spray, and began to soap her hands with undisguised panic.
"Zsadist, stop it." She pulled away, but he caught her. "I'm not dirty—Zsadist, stop. I don't need to be cleaned because you—"
He closed his eyes. "Please… I have to do this. I can't leave you all… covered with that stuff."
"Zsadist," she snapped. "Look at me." When he did, she said, "This is not necessary."
"I don't know what else to do."
"Come back to bed with me." She shut off the water. "Hold me. Let me hold you. That's the only thing you need to do."
And frankly, she needed it, too. She was rattled to the core.
She put a towel around herself and pulled him into the bedroom. When they were under the covers together, she curled herself around him, but she was as stiff as he was. She'd thought proximity would help. It didn't.
After a long while his voice came through the darkness. "If I had known how it had to be, I never would have allowed that to happen."
She turned her face up to his. "Was that the first time you ever came?"
The silence wasn't a surprise. That he eventually answered her was.
"Yeah."
"You've never… pleasured yourself?" she whispered, even though she knew the answer. God… What those years as a blood slave must have been like. All that abuse… She wanted to weep for him but knew he would feel awkward about it.