J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [900]
And that was what had dawned on him while he’d sat on the sofa in the billiard room, pretending to watch TV with Tohr. All day long, he’d heard Rehvenge’s voice in his head, over and over again.
Her end game doesn’t include anyone but herself.
John was not a fool, and he was not prepared to let his bonding for her paralyze him anymore. They had a job to do and they had a better shot at getting it done if they worked together. After all, this wasn’t any ordinary lesser they were going after.
Besides, the story of the two of them was written in the language of collision; they were ever crashing into each other and ricocheting away—only to find themselves pulled back into another impact. She was his pyrocant and there was nothing he could do to change that. But he could sure as shit cut the bungee cord that was torturing him.
Man, he wished that tattoo of his weren’t permanent. Then again, at least it was on his back and he didn’t have to look at the goddamn thing.
But whatever. They were going to get Lash and then go their separate ways. And between now and then? Well . . .
John let his thoughts drift away as he reconnected with the surging sex and the roaring taste in his mouth as he fed. Dimly, he once again caught the bonding scent rising from his own skin, but he shut that reality out. He wasn’t going to allow his head to get scrambled just because of that dark spice. Not for a minute longer.
Bonded males were crippled without their females, true enough—and a huge part of him would always be hers. But he was going to keep living, goddamn it. He was a survivor.
As he moved inside Xhex’s tight hold, his cock was a solid shaft of power and another release soon slammed through him and into her. Breaking the seal on her vein, he lapped the punctures with his tongue and then latched onto one of her breasts. With a shift of his leg, he split her thighs farther apart and rolled onto his back so she was on top.
Xhex took it from there, bracing her hands on his shoulders, swinging her hips on the base of her spine, her tight stomach curling and releasing as she rode him. With a silent curse, he grabbed onto her thighs and squeezed, her muscles shifting under his hold, and he didn’t stop there. He drew his hands farther up, to the juncture where her legs met her torso, that electric crease drawing him to where they were joined.
His thumb slipped into the carnal heart of her and found the top of her sex, rubbing it in circles—
In the dim light from the bathroom, he watched her arch back, her fangs cranking down on her lower lip in an effort to keep herself from crying out. He wanted to tell her to let her roar free, but he didn’t have time to pity her discretion—he came hard, his lids squeezing shut as he shuddered beneath her.
Catching his breath, he felt her pause to breathe deep . . . and then she was changing position.
When he opened his eyes, he nearly orgasmed again. She’d shifted back so that she was leaning on his legs, balancing her weight on his shins. With her feet up by his sides, he got one hell of a show . . . and that was before she started moving. The sight of him emerging shiny and thick from her folds, his shaft revealed right to the ridge of his cock head, pitched him off into another release.
She didn’t stop.
He didn’t want her to.
John needed more of watching their sexes up close, more of seeing the tips of her breasts and the thrust of her chin and the smooth strength of her body as she had him deep and hard. He wanted to stay captured in her . . . forever.
But that was his problem with her, and one that was ending here and now.
They climaxed together, with his hands locking onto her slender ankles and her mouth opening to let his name out of her throat.
Afterward, there was nothing but a lot of heavy breathing and air that