J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [301]
His black eyes narrowed. “You really don’t want to come near me, female. Especially not now.”
She didn’t listen. As she closed the distance between them, he backed away until he got caught in the corner between the glass shower door and the wall.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She didn’t answer, because she wasn’t sure.
“Back off,” he snapped. He opened his mouth, his fangs elongating to the size of a tiger’s.
That gave her some pause. “But maybe I can—”
“Save me or some shit? Oh, right. In your fantasy, this is the part where I’m supposed to be transfixed by your eyes. Give my beastly self up into the arms of a virgin.”
“I’m not a virgin.”
“Well, good for you.”
She reached out her hand, wanting to put it on his chest. Right over his heart.
He shrank from her, flattening himself against the marble. As sweat broke out all over him, he craned his neck away and his face squeezed into a wince. His chest pumped up and down, nipple rings flashing silver.
His voice thinned out until it was barely a sound. “Don’t touch me. I can’t…I can’t stand to be touched, okay? It hurts.”
Bella stopped.
“Why?” she said softly. “Why does it—”
“Just get the fuck out of here, please.” He could barely get the words out. “I’m about to destroy something. And I don’t want it to be you.”
“You won’t hurt me.”
He closed his eyes. “Goddamn. What is it with you refined types? Are you bred to get off on torturing people?”
“Good lord, no. I just want to help you.”
“Liar,” he spat, eyes popping open. “You’re such a liar. You don’t want to help me, you want to poke the rattlesnake with a stick just to see what it does.”
“That’s not true. At least…not now.”
His gaze went cold, soulless. And his voice lost all intonation. “You want me? Fine. You can fucking have me.”
Zsadist lunged at her. He took her down to the floor, rolled her over onto her stomach, and dragged her hands behind her back. The marble was cold against her face as his knees jackknifed her legs apart. There was a ripping sound. Her thong.
She went numb. Her thoughts couldn’t keep up with the pace of his actions, and neither could her emotions. But her body knew what it wanted. Angry or not, she would take him in.
The weight of him left her briefly, and she heard the sound of a zipper. Then he was lying on her with nothing between his tremendous erection and her core. But he didn’t thrust. He just panted as he froze in place, his breath a loud rush in her ear, so loud…Was he sobbing?
His head dropped down onto her nape. Then he rolled off her, covering her up as he left her body. Lying on his back, he put his arms across his face.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, “…Bella.”
She wanted to reach out to him, but he was so tense she didn’t dare. With an uneasy lurch she got to her feet and stared down at him. Zsadist’s pants were around his thighs, his sex no longer erect.
Jesus, his body was in rough shape. His stomach was hollow. His hip bones jutted out of his skin. He must indeed only drink from humans, she thought. And not eat much at all.
She focused on the tattooed bands covering his wrist and neck. And the scars.
Ruined. Not broken.
Although she was ashamed to admit it now, the darkness in him had been the largest part of his allure. It was such an anomaly, a contrast to what she’d known from life. It had made him dangerous. Exciting. Sexy. But that was a fantasy. This was real.
He suffered. And there was nothing sexy or thrilling about that.
She picked up a towel and went over to him, laying it gently across his exposed flesh. He jumped and then clutched it to himself. As he looked up at her, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, but he wasn’t crying. Maybe she’d been mistaken about the sobbing.
“Please…leave me,” he said.
“I wish—”
“Go. Now. No wishing, no hoping. No nothing. Just leave. And don’t ever come near me again. Swear it. Swear it.”
“I…I promise.”
Bella hurried out through his bedroom. When she was down the hall far enough, she paused and finger-combed