Lover Reborn (Black Dagger Brotherhood 10)

"Should I take your wrist from here?" she asked.

"Come on the bed," he all but growled.

She stretched up one knee onto the high mattress, and then awkwardly tried to bring the other one with it. Her bad leg threw her off balance, however, and she pitched forward -

Tohr caught her easily, grabbing her shoulders and keeping her from falling on her face. "I've got you. "

And wasn't there a double meaning in that one.

Deliberately, he pulled her over him so that she was poised above his pecs. Man, she didn't weigh a thing. Then again, she never ate much.

He was not the only one who needed to feed properly.

Except then he just stopped, to give her time to adjust. He was a lot of male, and he was aroused as shit, and he had scared her more than enough already. As far as he was concerned, she could take all the time in the world to make sure she knew who was with her -

Abruptly, her scent changed, shifting into the heady spectrum of female awakening. In response, his hips rolled underneath the covers, and she craned a glance over her shoulder, watching his body react.

If he'd been a gentlemale, he would have hidden the response and made sure that this was just about repaying her the service she had given to him. But he was feeling so much more male than gentle.

On that note, he lowered her onto his chest, angling her so that her mouth hit his jugular.

Skin.

Warm male skin against her lips.

Warm, clean, vampire skin that was golden brown, not pasty white. That smelled of spice, and strength, and. . . something so erotic, her body had returned to that volcanic place.

As she breathed in, the scent of him - that male scent - produced an unprecedented reaction. Everything went instantly instinct, her fangs dropping from her upper jaw, her lips parting, her tongue coming out as if it intended to taste.

"Take it, No'One. . . . You know you want to. Take me. . . . "

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself up from him and met his burning eyes. There were too many emotions to decipher in them, and the same was true with his voice and his expression. This was not easy for him; then again, this was his marital room, where he had no doubt been with his mate a thousand times.

And yet he wanted her. It was obvious in the tension of his body, in that arousal that even beneath the covers she could see.

She knew the troubled crossroads he stood upon, torn between contradictions: She was the same. She wanted this, but if she fed from him now, things were going to progress, and she was not sure she was prepared for where it would take them both.

Except she was not going to turn away. And neither was he.

"Do you not wish me at your wrist," she said in a voice that was nothing like her own.

"No. "

"Then where do you want me. " It wasn't a question. And, dearest Virgin Scribe, she didn't know who was talking to him like that - low, seductive, demanding.

"At my throat. " His words were even lower, and he moaned as her eyes went back to where he had seemed to deliberately put her.

This mighty warrior wanted to be used by her. As he lay back against the pillows, his huge body appeared to be in that strange thrall she had seen before, held captive by invisible binds that were nonetheless impossible for him to break out of.

His eyes stayed on hers as he tilted his head to th

e side, exposing his vein. . . on the side opposite of where she was. So that she would have to stretch across his chest once more. Yes, she thought, she wanted that, too. . . except before she made any kind of move, she gave her inner core a chance to panic. The last thing she wanted was to become overwrought and undone in the midst of this.

Nothing bubbled up from the depths. For once, the present was so alive and captivating that the past was not even an echo or a shadow - she was, in this moment, wiped clean.

And very clear about what she wanted.

No'One reached out her arm and stretched herself thin as she surmounted the impossible expanse of his torso. His size was nearly a joke, the juxtaposition of their bodies absurd - and yet she was not afraid. The hard pads of his pectorals and the broad beam of his shoulders were nothing to be threatened by.