Lover Eternal tbdb-2

by J. R. Ward

  As if he were utterly enthralled by her.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and pushed his adoration from her mind. It was either that or lose touch with the orgasm she was so close to because the sight of him made her want to weep.

  It didn't take long for her to explode. With a shattering blast, the release swept through her, robbing her of sight and hearing, of breath and heartbeat, until all she could do was collapse onto him.

  As her breathing slowed, she became aware that he was stroking her back gently and whispering soft words to her.

  In the aftermath she was ashamed, and tears stung her eyes.

  No matter who else he'd been with tonight, he didn't deserve to be used, and that was exactly what she'd done. She'd been angry when it all started, and then she'd shut him out right before she came by refusing to look at him. She'd treated him like a sex toy.

  "I'm sorry, Rhage. I'm… sorry…"

  She moved to get off his hips and realized he was still thick inside of her. He hadn't even finished.

  Oh, God, this was bad. The whole thing was bad.

  Rhage's hands clamped on her thighs. "Don't ever regret that we were together."

  She stared into his eyes. "I feel like I just violated you."

  "I was more than willing. Mary, it's all right. Come here, let me kiss you."

  "How can you stand to have me near you?"

  "The only thing I can't handle is your leaving."

  He took her wrists and urged her down to his mouth. As their lips met, he slid his arms all the way around her, holding her close. The change in position made her acutely aware that he was full to bursting, so hard she could feel the involuntary twitches of his arousal.

  He rocked his hips gently against her, sweeping her hair back from her face with his big palms. "I won't be able to withstand the burn for much longer. You take me so high, I'm licking the ceiling right now. But for as long as I'm able, as long as I can stay in control, I want to love your body with mine. However it starts. However it ends."

  He moved his hips up and down, pulling out, sliding in. She felt herself melting all around him. The pleasure was deep, endless. Terrifying.

  "Did you kiss them tonight?" she asked roughly. "The women?"

  "No, I didn't kiss the female, I never do. And I hated it. I'm not doing it again, Mary. I'll find another way to keep myself from getting out of hand while you're in my life. I don't want anyone but you."

  She let him roll her over. As he settled on top of her, the warm, heavy weight of him pressed into the cradle of her body where he was lodged. He kissed her tenderly, licking at her with his tongue, cherishing her with his lips. He was so gentle though he was immense inside of her and his body housed the kind of strength that could snap her in half.

  "I won't finish this if you don't want me to," he whispered into her neck. "I'll pull out right now."

  She brought her hands up his back, feeling the shifting muscles and the expansion and compression of his ribs as he breathed. She inhaled deeply and caught a lovely, erotic scent. Dark, spicy, lush. Between her legs she felt an answering rush of wetness, as if the fragrance were a touch or a kiss.

  "What is that wonderful smell?"

  "Me," he murmured against her mouth. "It's what happens when a male bonds. I can't help it. If you let me keep going, it will be all over your skin, your hair. Inside of you, too."

  With that, he thrust deeply. She arched up to the pleasure, letting the heat flow throughout her body.

  "I can't go through tonight again," she moaned, more to herself than to him.

  Falling completely still, he took her hand and placed it on his heart. "Never again, Mary. I swear on my honor."

  His eyes were grave, the vow as good a one as she would get from any living thing. But the relief she felt at his pledge was trouble.

  "I will not fall in love with you," she said. "I can't let myself. I won't."

  "That's all right. I'll love you enough for the both of us." He surged inside of her, filling her depths.

  "You don't know me." She nipped at his shoulder and then sucked on his collarbone. The taste of his skin made her tongue sing, that special scent condensing in her mouth.

  "Yeah, I do." He pulled back, his eyes regarding her with an animal's conviction and clarity. "I know you kept me safe when the sun was out and I was defenseless against it. I know you cared for me even though you were afraid. I know you fed me from your kitchen. I know you are a warrior, a survivor, a wahlker. And I know your voice is the loveliest sound my ears have ever heard." He kissed her softly. "I know all about you, and everything I see is beautiful. Everything I see is mine."

  "I'm not yours," she whispered.

  The rejection didn't faze him. "Fine. If I can't have you, then you do the taking. Have all of me, part of me, a small piece, whatever you want. Just please, have something."

  She reached up to his face, stroking the perfect planes and angles of his cheeks and jawline.

  "Don't you fear pain?" she asked.

  "No. But I'll tell you what scares the hell out of me. Losing you." He looked at her lips. "Now do you want me to pull out? Because I will."

  "No. Stay." Mary kept her eyes open and brought his mouth to hers, slipping her tongue inside of him.

  He trembled and started to move in a steady rhythm, penetrating and retreating, each time the thick head of him teetering on breaking their connection.

  "You feel… so perfect," he said, punctuating the words with his strokes. "I was made to… be inside of you."

  The luscious scent coming from his body intensified as his pumping did, until all she could feel was him, all she could smell was him, all she could taste was him.

  She called out his name as she climaxed, and she felt him go over the edge with her, his body shuddering into hers, his release as powerful as his thrusts had been, his orgasm pouring into her.

  When he was still, he rolled them over so they were on their sides. He gathered her close, so close she could hear the great beating heart in his chest.

  She shut her eyes and slept with an exhaustion to rival death.

  CHAPTER 29

  That evening, as the sun fell and the shutters rose up from the windows, Mary decided she could get used to being pampered by Rhage. What she couldn't handle was any more food. She put her fingers on his wrist, stopping the forkload of mashed potatoes coming at her.

  "No, I'm stuffed," she said as she lay back against the pillows. "My stomach's about to burst."

  With a smile, he picked up the tray of dishes and put it on the bedside table, then sat down next to her again. He'd been gone for most of the day, working, she assumed, and she'd been grateful for the sleep she'd gotten. Her exhaustion was getting worse by the day, and she could feel herself sliding into sickness. Her body felt as if it were struggling to maintain its regular processes, little aches and pains cropping up all over. And the bruises were back: Black and blue marks were blooming under her skin at an alarming rate. Rhage had been horrified when he'd seen them, convinced he'd hurt her during sex. It had taken a lot of talking to get him to realize they weren't his fault.

  Mary focused on Rhage, not wanting to think about the illness, or the doctor's appointment that was coming soon. God, he didn't look any better than she felt, although he was keyed up, not grinding to a halt. The poor man couldn't settle down. As he sat beside her on the bed, he was rubbing his thighs with his palms, looking like he had a case of poison ivy or the chicken pox. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he spoke up.

  "Mary, will you let me do something for you?"

  Even though sex should be the last thing on her mind, she eyed the biceps that stretched his black shirt. "Do I get to pick what it is?"

  A soft growl came out of him. "You shouldn't look at me like that."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I want to mount you when you do."

  "Don't fight the feeling."

  Like the strike of dual matches, his pupils flashed white. It was
the oddest thing. One moment they were black. The next, pale light was shining out of them.

  "Why does that happen?" she asked.

  His shoulders thickened as he bore down on his legs and braced himself. Abruptly he stood up and paced around. She could sense an energy coming off of him, out of him.

  "Rhage?"

  "You don't need to worry about it."

  "That hard tone in your voice tells me maybe I should."

  He smiled at her and shook his head. "No. You don't. About the favor. Our race has a physician, Havers. Will you let me give him access to your medical files? Maybe our science can help you."

  Mary frowned. A vampire doctor. Talk about exploring your alternative therapies.

  Yeah, but what exactly did she have to lose?

  "Okay. Except I don't know how to get copies—"

  "My brother, V, is a computer god. He can hack into anything, and most of your stuff should be online. All I need are names and places. Dates, too, if you have them."

  When he grabbed paper and a pen, she told him where she had been treated as well as the names of her doctors. After he'd written it all down, he stared at the piece of paper.

  "What?" she asked.

  "There are so many." His eyes lifted to hers. "How bad was it, Mary?"

  Her first impulse was to tell him the truth: that she'd had two rounds of chemo and a bone-marrow transplant and had just squeaked by. But then she thought about the night before, when her emotions had gotten so out of control. She was a box of dynamite right now and her disease was the best fuse around. The last thing she needed was to get tripped again, because Christ knew nothing good had come of the last two times she'd lost it. The first she'd cried all over him. The second she'd… Well, biting his lip had been the least of it.

  Shrugging, lying, hating herself, she murmured, "It was okay. I was just glad when it was over."

  His eyes narrowed.

  Just as someone pounded on the door.

  Rhage's stare didn't waver, in spite of the urgent sound. "Someday you're going to learn to trust me."

  "I do trust you."

  "Bullshit. And here's a quick tip. I hate being lied to."

  The heavy knocking started up again.

  Rhage went over and opened the door, ready to tell whoever it was to screw off. He had a feeling he and Mary were about to get into an argument, and he wanted to get the thing over with.

  Tohr was on the other side. Looking like he'd been hit with a stun gun.

  "What the hell happened to you?" Rhage asked while stepping into the hall. He shut the door partway.

  Tohr sniffed the air drifting out of the bedroom. "Jesus. You've marked her, haven't you?"

  "You got a problem with that?"

  "No, it makes this all easier in a way. The Scribe Virgin has spoken."

  "Tell me."

  "You should be with the rest of the brothers to hear—"

  "Fuck that. I want to know now, Tohr."

  When the brother finished speaking in the Old Language, Rhage took a deep breath. "Give me ten minutes."

  Tohr nodded. "We're in Wrath's study."

  Rhage went back into his room and shut the door. "Listen, Mary, I've got some business with my brothers. I might not be back tonight."

  She stiffened and her eyes dropped away from his face.

  "Mary, it's not females, I swear to you. Just promise me you'll be here when I get back." As she hesitated, he went over and stroked her cheek. "You said you don't have a doctor's appointment until Wednesday. What's another night? You could spend more time in the tub. You told me how much you like that."

  She smiled a little. "You are a manipulator."

  "I like to think of myself more as an outcome engineer."

  "If I stay one more day, you're just going to try to talk me into another and another…"

  He bent down and kissed her hard, wishing he had more time, wanting to be with her, inside of her, before he left. But hell, even if he'd had hours to spare, he wouldn't be able to do that. The tingling and the hum in him was about to vibrate his body into midair.

  "I love you," he said. Then he pulled back, took off his watch, and put the Rolex in her hand. "Keep this for me."

  He went over to the closet and shed his clothes. Way in the back, behind another two pairs of pajamas he was never going to use, he found his ceremonial black robe. He drew the heavy silk on over his naked skin and belted it with a thick strip of braided leather.

  When he came out, Mary said, "You look like you're going to a monastery."

  "Tell me you will be here when I come back."

  After a moment, she nodded.

  He pulled the robe's hood into place. "Good. That's good."

  "Rhage, what's going on?"

  "Just wait for me. Please, wait for me." As he got to the door, he took one last look at her in his bed.

  This was their first good-bye that had teeth, their first separation where, when they were reunited, he'd feel the awful distance of time and experience. He knew tonight was going to be hard to get through. He just hoped that when he came out on the other side, the aftermath of the punishment didn't linger too long. And that she was still with him.

  "I'll see you later, Mary," he said as he shut her in his room.

  When he walked into Wrath's study, he closed the double doors behind himself. All the brothers were there, and no one was talking. The scent of unease permeated the room, smelling like rubbing alcohol.

  Wrath came forward from behind the desk, looking as rigid as Tohr had. From behind his wraparound sunglasses, the king's stare was piercing, something felt, though not seen.

  "Brother."

  Rhage bowed his head. "My lord."

  "You wear that robe as if you want to stay with us."

  "Of course I do."

  Wrath nodded once. "Here is the pronouncement, then. The Scribe Virgin has determined that you offended the Brotherhood in both defying Tohr's orders and by bringing a human onto our turf. I'll be honest with you, Rhage, she wants to override my decision about Mary. She wants the human out."

  "You know where that leads."

  "I told her you were prepared to walk."

  "That probably cheered her up." Rhage smirked. "She's been trying to get rid of me for years."

  "Well, it's your choice now, brother. If you want to remain with us, and if the human is to continue to be sheltered within these walls, the Scribe Virgin has demanded that you offer a rythe."

  The ritualistic way of assuaging offense was a logical punishment. When a rythe was tendered and accepted, the offender allowed the object of his insult free use of a weapon against him without putting up a defense. The offended could choose anything from a knife to a set of brass knuckles to a gun, provided the wound inflicted was not mortal.

  "I so offer the rythe," Rhage said.

  "It must be one to each of us."

  There was a collective groan in the room. Someone muttered, "Fuck."

  "I so offer them."

  "Be it as you wish, brother."

  "But" — Rhage hardened his voice—"I offer them only on the understanding that if the ritual is observed, Mary stays for however long I want."

  "That was my agreement with the Scribe Virgin. And you should know she came around only after I told her you wanted to take the human as your shellan. I think Her Holiness was shocked you could even consider that kind of commitment." Wrath looked over his shoulder. "Tohrment is to choose the weapon that all of us will use."

  "The tri-whip," Tohr said in a low voice.

  Oh, shit. This was going to hurt.

  There were more mutters.

  "So be it," Wrath said.

  "Except what about the beast?" Rhage asked. "It can come out when I'm in pain."

  "The Scribe Virgin will be there. She said she has a way of keeping it at bay."

  But of course she would. She'd cooked the damn thing up in the first place.

  "We're going to do this tonight, right?" Rhage glanced arou
nd the room. "I mean, there's no reason to wait."

  "We'll go to the Tomb now."

  "Good. Let's get it over with."

  Zsadist was the first to leave as the group got to their feet and worked out logistics in quiet tones. Tohr needed a robe, did someone have an extra one? Phury announced he'd bring the weapon. V offered the Escalade to take them all down together.

  The latter was good thinking. They were going to need something to get him home in after the rythe was over.

  "My brothers?" he said.

  They all stopped talking, stopped moving. He looked at each one, noting the grim casts to their faces. They hated this, and he understood perfectly. Hurting any one of them would have been unbearable for him. It was much better to be on the receiving end.

  "I have one request, my brothers. Don't bring me back here, okay? When it's over, take me somewhere else. I don't want Mary to see me like that."

  Vishous spoke up. "You can stay at the Pit. Butch and I will take care of you."

  Rhage smiled. "Twice in a less than a week. You two could hire out as nursemaids after this."

  V clapped him on the shoulder and then left. Tohr followed, doing the same. Phury gave him a hug as he passed by.

  Wrath paused on his way out.

  When the king remained silent, Rhage squeezed the male's bicep. "I know, my lord. I'd feel the same way if I were you. But I'm tough. I can take it."

  Wrath reached into the hood and took Rhage's face into his palms, tilting it down. He kissed Rhage's forehead and held the contact between them, a pledge of respect from the king to his warrior, a reaffirmation of their bond.

  "I'm glad you're staying with us," Wrath said softly. "I would have hated to lose you."

  About fifteen minutes later, they reconvened down in the courtyard by the Escalade. The brothers were all barefoot and wearing black robes. With the hoods up, it was hard to tell who was who, except for Phury. His prosthetic foot showed, and he had a bulging duffel bag slung over his shoulder. No doubt he'd thrown bandages and rolling tape into the thing as well as the weapon.