J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [475]
So help her, God, she was sick of this. “Why the hell would you care if you saw me?”
He just shook his head and turned for the door. Which made her nearly violent.
“Answer me! Why do you care if I don’t ever come back?” He had his hand on the knob as she screamed at him, “Why do you care?”
“I don’t!”
She launched herself across the room, intending to hit him, claw him, make him hurt, she was so frustrated. But he wheeled around, and instead of slapping him she grabbed his head and dragged his mouth to hers. His arms snapped around her, holding her hard enough so she couldn’t breathe. As his tongue shot into her mouth, he picked her up and headed for the bed.
Desperate, angry sex was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
They were tangled on the mattress in a split second. He had her jeans off and was about to bite through her panties when a knock sounded on the door.
Fritz’s voice came through the panels, pleasant and respectful. “Madam, if your bags are ready—”
“Not now, Fritz,” Zsadist said in a guttural voice. He bared his fangs, shredded the silk between her thighs, and licked up the center of her. “Fuck…”
His tongue went down again and he lapped at her, moaning. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and held on to his head, gyrating her hips.
“Oh, master, I beg your pardon. I thought you were at the training center—”
“Later, Fritz.”
“But of course. How long would you—”
The rest of the doggen’s words were cut off as Zsadist’s erotic growl told Fritz everything he needed to know. And probably a little more.
“Oh…my goodness. Forgive me, master. I will not return for her things until I, ah…see you.”
Zsadist’s tongue swirled around as his hands clamped on her thighs. He drove her hard, all the time whispering hot, starved things against her secret flesh. She pushed herself against his mouth, arching up. He was so raw, so voracious…she shattered apart. He teased the orgasm out for the longest time, keeping it going as if he were desperate not to have it fade.
The stillness afterward chilled her as much as his mouth’s release of her core. He rose up from between her legs, his hand wiping across his lips. As he looked down at her, he licked his palm, catching every last bit of what he’d removed from his face.
“You’re going to stop now, aren’t you,” she said roughly.
“I told you. I didn’t come here for sex. I only wanted this. I only wanted to have you against my mouth one last time.”
“You selfish bastard.” And how ironic was it to be calling him that for not fucking her. God… This was just awful.
As she reached for her jeans, he made a low sound in the back of his throat. “You think I wouldn’t kill to be inside of you this very second?”
“Go to hell, Zsadist. Go there right—”
He moved fast as a lightning strike, taking her down hard to the bed, tackling her with his weight.
“I am in hell,” he hissed, pushing his hips into her. He swiveled them against her core, that massive erection pushing into the soft place he’d just had with his mouth. With a curse, he pulled back, unzipped his leathers…and thrust into her, stretching her so wide it almost hurt. She cried out at the invasion, but tilted her hips up so he could go in even farther.
Zsadist grabbed her knees and stretched her legs up, balling her under him; then he pounded against her, his warrior body sparing her nothing. She held on to his neck, drawing blood, lost in the grinding rhythm. This was how she’d always thought it would be with him. Hard, heavy, wild…raw. As she orgasmed again, he came with a roar, crashing into her. Hot jets filled her, then spilled out onto her thighs as he kept pumping.
When he finally collapsed onto her, he released her legs and breathed against her neck.
“Oh, God…I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said finally.
“I am very sure about that.” She pushed him aside and sat up, more tired than she’d been in her whole life. “I have to meet my brother soon. I want you to leave.”
He cursed, an aching, hollow sound. Then he