by J. R. Ward
CHAPTER 44
O was getting nervous. The female still wasn't fully conscious, and it had been eighteen hours. Those darts had been calibrated for a male, but she should be up by now.
He worried that he'd given her a concussion.
God, this was just as it had been before. He and Jennifer would fight, and afterward, he'd get all nervous that he'd done some serious damage. While he'd cleaned her up, he'd always carefully tended her wounds, searching for broken bones and deep cuts. And as soon as he was sure she was okay, he'd made love to her even if she was still out of it. Coming while he was on top of her, on the heels of the relief of knowing he hadn't taken things too far, had always been the best kind of release.
He wished he could make love with the female he'd abducted.
O walked over to the hole she was in. He took off the mesh plate, clicked on a flashlight, and trained the beam inside. She was crumpled at the bottom, sagging against the pipe.
He wanted to take her out. Hold her. Kiss her and feel her skin against his. He wanted to come inside of her. But all lessers were impotent. The Omega, that bastard, was a jealous master.
O replaced the cover and prowled around, thinking about the night and day he'd spent with the Omega and the depression he'd been in since then. Funny—now that he had that female, his mind had cleared up and a new commitment energized him.
He knew it wasn't Jennifer in that hole, but the vampire was so close to what had been taken from him, and he wasn't going to be picky. He'd accept the gift he'd been given and guard it well.
This time no one was going to take his woman from him. No one.
As the shutters lifted for the night, Zsadist got off his pallet and walked naked around the room he stayed in.
What had happened last night with Bella was killing him. He wanted to find her and apologize, but how was that going to go?
Sorry I jumped you like animal. And you don't make me sick. Really.
God, he was such an asshole.
He closed his eyes and remembered being up against the wall by the shower while she reached out to his bare chest. Her fingers had been long and elegant, with pretty, unpolished nails at the tips. Her touch would had been light, he suspected. Light and warm.
He should have kept himself together. If he had, he would have known just once as a free male what it felt like to have a female's soft hand on his skin. As a slave he'd been touched too often, and always against his will, but freed…
And it wouldn't have been just any hand. It would have been Bella's.
Her palm would have landed on his chest, between his pecs, and maybe she would have stroked him a little bit. He might have liked that, if she'd gone slowly. Yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he could see himself maybe liking that—
Ah, what the hell was he going on about? The ability to tolerate intimacy of any kind had been raped out of him years ago. And anyway, he had no business entertaining fantasies of a female like Bella. He wasn't worthy even of the angry human whores he was forced to feed from.
Zsadist opened his eyes and dropped the bullshit. The kindest thing he could do for Bella, the best way to make amends, was to be sure she never saw him again, even inadvertently.
Although he would see her. Every night he would visit her house and make sure she was okay. It was a dangerous time now for civilians, and she needed to be watched over. He would just stay in the shadows while he did it.
The thought of protecting her eased him.
He couldn't trust himself to be with her. But he had absolute faith in his ability to keep her safe, no matter how many lessers he had to eat alive.
CHAPTER 45
Mary paced along the second-floor balcony, just outside the bedroom door. She hadn't been able to watch Butch and V go to work with all those chains. And it was hard to know whether the two of them preparing Rhage to have sex with her was erotic as hell or downright scary.
The door opened.
Butch's eyes bounced around, not meeting hers. "He's ready."
Vishous came out lighting a hand-rolled. He took a deep drag. "We're going to hang around here in the hall. In case you need us."
Her first instinct was to tell them to go away. How creepy was it that they'd be right outside while she and Rhage were having sex? Privacy, after all, was a state of mind as well as a secluded, intimate place.
But then she thought of the amount of steel they'd gone in there with. That load of hardware hadn't been at all what she'd expected. Some rope, maybe. Handcuffs. But not the kind of stuff you'd lift an engine block off the ground with.
"Are you sure you have to wait?" she said.
They both nodded.
"Trust us on this one," Butch muttered.
Mary went into the room and closed the door. Candles were lit on either side of the bed, and Rhage was lying naked on the mattress, his arms angled up over his head, his legs spread to the point that they were stretched. Chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles and then looped about the bed's heavy oak supports.
Rhage lifted his head, teal blue eyes piercing the dimness. "You sure about this?"
Actually, no, she wasn't. "You look uncomfortable."
"It's not bad." His head fell back. "Although I'm glad those are bedposts and not horses heading off in four different directions."
She eyed his colossal body, sprawled out for her like some kind of sexual sacrifice.
Holy… Moses. Was this real? Was she really going to—
Stop it, she told herself. Don't keep him there any longer than you have to. And once this is over, and he knows everything's fine, you won't have to do it again.
Mary kicked her shoes free, whipped her fleece and turtle-neck over her head, and stripped out of her jeans.
Rhage's head rose again. As she took off her bra and her panties, his sex stirred. Lengthened. She watched him transform for her, hardening, thickening, growing. The arousal brought a flush to his face and a mist of sweat to his beautiful, hairless skin.
"Mary…" His pupils went white and he started to purr, gyrating his hips. The erection moved on top of his stomach, the head of it reaching his belly button and then some. With a sudden rush, his forearms shot up and pulled at the bonds. Chains rattled, shifted.
"Are you okay?" she said.
"Oh, God, Mary. I'm… we're hungry. We are… starving for you."
Shoring up her courage, she went over to the bed. She bent down and kissed him on the mouth, then she got up on the mattress. Got up on him.
As she straddled his hips, he writhed under her in waves.
Taking him into her hand, she tried to get him inside. She couldn't do it on the first try. He was too big and she wasn't ready and it hurt. She gave it another shot and grimaced.
"You aren't primed for me," Rhage said, arching as she put his blunt head against her core one more time. He made some kind of wild, humming sound.
"It'll be fine, let me just—"
"Come here." As he spoke, his voice changed. Deepened. "Kiss me, Mary."
She dropped down onto his chest and took his mouth, trying to will herself to get turned on. It didn't work.
He broke off the contact, as if sensing her lack of arousal.
"Come up higher on me." Chains stirred, the metallic sound almost a chime. "Give me your breast. Bring it to my mouth."
She shimmied up and dropped her nipple to his lips. The instant she felt a gentle sucking, her body responded. She closed her eyes, relieved as heat took hold.
Rhage seemed to recognize the change in her, because the purring sound he made grew louder, a beautiful twrring in the air. As he caressed her with his lips, his body moved in a great surge under her, his chest rising and then his neck and his head kicking back. Sweat bloomed anew on his skin, the scent of his need for her filling the air with spice.
"Mary, let me taste you." His voice was so low now that his words distorted. "Your sweetness. Between your legs. Let me taste you."
She looked down and two glea
ming white orbs stared up at her. There was a hypnotic quality to them, an erotic persuasion she couldn't deny, even though she knew it wasn't just Rhage she was with.
She crawled up his body, stopping when she was at his chest. The intimacy was somehow shocking, especially with him tied down.
"Closer, Mary." Even the way he said her name was not the same. "Come closer to my mouth."
She moved above him awkwardly, trying to accommodate the position he was in. She ended up with one knee on his chest and the other over his opposite shoulder. He craned his neck and twisted his head, rising to meet her flesh, capturing her with his lips.
His moan vibrated into her core, and she planted a hand on the wall. The pleasure stole her inhibitions completely, rendering her a servant to the sex as he licked and sucked at her. As her body responded in a rush of wetness, there was a sharp sound followed by a groan as the chains were pulled tight and the bed frame's wood protested. Rhage's great arms were strained against the bonds that held him, his muscles rigid, his fingers spread wide and curled into clawlike points.
"That's it," he said between her legs. "I can feel you… coming."
His voice sank down and disappeared into a growl.
Her release shot through her and she fell over, sinking onto the bed, her leg dragging across his face before falling onto his neck at the ankle. As soon as her pulses faded, she looked at him. His white, unblinking eyes were wide with wonder and awe. He was utterly captivated by her as he lay there, breathing in that pattern of two beats in followed by one long release.
"Take me now, Mary." The words were deep, warped. Not Rhage's.
But she didn't feel scared or as if she were betraying him.
Whatever had come out of him, it wasn't malevolent and it wasn't entirely unfamiliar either. She'd sensed this… thing in him all along and knew it was nothing she needed to be frightened of. And as she met his eyes now, it was as it had been in the billiard room, a separate presence looking at her, but Rhage just the same.
She moved down him and took him inside her body, fitting him perfectly. His hips surged, and another high call came out of his throat as he began pumping. The thrusts went in and out of her, a delicious pounding slide that came up with increasing force. To keep from getting bucked off, she braced herself on all fours and tried to stay stable.
The keening sound got louder as he went wild, slapping his hips against her, trembling all over. Urgency grew and grew, building, a storm coming, about to hit. Suddenly he bowed off the mattress, the bed squealing as his arms and legs contracted. His eyelids peeled back and white light pierced the room, making it as bright as high noon. Deep inside she felt the contractions of his climax, and the sensations kicked off another orgasm for her, taking her over the edge.
She fell onto his chest when it was over, and they were both still except for the breathing, hers normal, his in that odd rhythm.
She lifted her head and stared into his face. White eyes burned as they focused on her with total adoration.
"My Mary," the voice said.
And then a low-level electrical shock flowed through her body and charged the air. Every light came on in the room, flooding the space with illumination. She gasped and glanced around, but the surge left as quickly as it came. Just like that, the energy was gone. She looked down.
Rhage's eyes were normal again, the teal color shining.
"Mary?" he said in a dazed, indistinct voice.
She had to take a few breaths before speaking. "You're back."
"And you're okay." He lifted his arms, flexed his fingers. "I didn't change."
"What do you mean, change?"
"I didn't… I could see you while it was with me. You were hazy, but I knew you weren't getting hurt. It's the first time I've ever remembered anything."
She didn't know what to make of that, but saw that the chains had nibbed his skin raw. "Can I let you go?"
"Yeah. Please."
Getting him undone took some time. When he was free, he massaged his wrists and ankles and watched her carefully, as if reassuring himself she was okay.
She looked around for a robe. "I'd better go tell Butch and V it's safe to leave."
"I'll do it." He went over to the bedroom door and stuck his head out.
As he spoke with the men, she looked at the tattoo on his back. She could have sworn it was smiling at her.
God, she was nuts. She really was.
She hopped up on the bed and pulled the blankets over herself.
Rhage shut the door and leaned back against it. He still looked tense, in spite of the release he'd had. "After all that… are you finally afraid of me?"
"No."
"Aren't you afraid of… it?"
She held her arms out. "Come here. I want to hold you. You look like you've got a case of the rattles."
He approached the bed slowly, as if he didn't want her to feel stalked or something. She motioned with her hands, urging him to hurry up.
Rhage lay down beside her, but didn't reach for her.
After a heartbeat she went for him, wrapping her body around his, running her hands over him. When she brushed against his side, catching the edge of the dragon's tail, Rhage flinched and shifted.
He didn't want her anywhere near the tattoo, she thought.
"Roll over," she said. "Onto your stomach."
When he shook his head, she pushed at his shoulders. It was like trying to move a grand piano.
"Roll over, damn it. Come on, Rhage."
He complied with no grace whatsoever, cursing and flopping onto his belly.
She ran her hand right down his spine, right over the dragon.
Rhage's muscles contracted in random order. No, not random. They were the parts of his body that corresponded to where she was touching the tattoo.
How extraordinary.
She stroked his back some more, feeling as if the ink were rising up to meet her palm like a cat.
"Are you ever going to want to be with me again?" Rhage said stiffly. He turned his face to the side so he could see her. Except he didn't look up.
She lingered on the beast's mouth, tracing the line of its lips with her fingertip. Rhage's own set parted as if he were feeling her touch.
"Why wouldn't I want to be with you?"
"That was a little weird, wasn't it?"
She laughed. "Weird? I'm sleeping in a mansion full of vampires. I've fallen in love with a—"
Mary stopped. Oh, God. What had just come out of her mouth?
Rhage pushed his upper body off the bed, twisting his chest around so he could look at her. "What did you just say?"
She hadn't meant for it to happen, she thought. The falling or the telling.
But she would take neither of them back.
"I'm not sure," she murmured, taking in the brute strength of his shoulders and arms. "But I think it was something along the lines of 'I love you'. Yeah, that was it. I, ah, I love you."
Now, that was lame. She could do a hell of a lot better.
Mary grabbed his face, planted a good hard one on his mouth, and looked him straight in the eye.
"I love you, Rhage. I love you something fierce."
Those heavy arms wrapped around her and he buried his head in her neck. "I didn't think you ever would."
"Am I that hardheaded?"
"No. I'm that undeserving."
Mary pulled back and glared at him. "I don't want to hear you say that again. You are the very best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Even with the beast?"
Beast? Sure, she'd sensed something else was in him. But a beast? Still, Rhage was looking so worried, she humored him.
"Yeah, even with him as well. Only can we do it without all the metal next time? I'm very confident that you won't hurt me."
"Yeah, I think we can lose the chains."
Mary urged him back into the crook of her neck and found herself focusing on the Madonna and Child across the room.
"You are the oddest
miracle," she whispered to him, looking at the picture.
"What?" he said into her throat.
"Nothing." She kissed the top of his blond head and went back to staring at the Madonna.
CHAPTER 46
Bella took a deep breath and smelled dirt. God, her head hurt. And her knees were killing her. They were jammed against something hard. And cold.
Her eyes flew open. Darkness. Blackness. Blindness.
She tried to lift a hand, but her elbow ran into a bumpy wall. There was another wall at her back and in front of her and to the sides. She banged around in the small space, panicking. Opening her mouth until it gaped, she found she couldn't breathe. There was no air, only the smell of damp earth, clogging… nose… she—
Screamed.
And something above her moved. Light blinded her as she looked up.
"Ready to come out?" a man's voice said softly.
It all came back: the race for her house across the meadow, the fight with the lesser, the blacking out.
With a quick jerk she was lifted by a chest harness from what she realized was a pipe in the ground. As she looked around in terror, she had no idea where she was. The room was not large and the walls were unfinished. There were no windows, just two skylights in the low ceiling, which were both covered with black cloth. Three bald lightbulbs hung from wires. The place smelled sweet, a combination of fresh pine boards and the lesser's baby-powder scent.
When she saw a stainless-steel table and dozens of knives and hammers, she trembled so badly she started to cough.
"Don't worry about all that," the lesser said. "That's not for you as long as you behave."
His hands burrowed into her hair and fanned it out over her shoulders. "You're going to take a shower now, and you're going to wash this. You're going to wash this for me."
He reached over and picked up a bundle of clothes. As he pressed them into her arms, she realized they were her own.
"If you're good, you get to put these on. But not until we get you clean." He pushed her toward an open door, just as a cell phone started to ring. "Into the shower. Now."
Too disoriented and petrified to argue, she stumbled into an unfinished bathroom that had no toilet. Like a drone, she shut herself in and turned the water on with hands that shook. When she pivoted around, she saw the lesser had opened the door and was watching her.