Lover Eternal (Black Dagger Brotherhood 2)
Page 72
But she was definitely insane.
"We'll tie you down," she said.
He shook his head as he tripped over his feet and grabbed the doorknob. "I don't want to chance it."
"Wait! Do you know for sure what will happen?"
"No." He scratched his neck and shoulders, twitching.
"Is there a possibility you'll just have the release you need?"
"Maybe."
"So we'll try it. I'll run if... well, if something weird happens. Rhage, let me do this for us. Besides, what's the alternative? I move out? We don't see each other? We never have sex again? I mean, come on, you're so itchy right now you're about to jump out of your skin."
Fear flooded into his face, tightening his mouth, widening his eyes. Shame followed on its heels, a terrible, gut-wrenching misery that carried her across the room to him. She took his hands, feeling them shake.
"I hate to see you like this, Rhage." When he started to speak, she cut him off. "Look, you know what we're dealing with here. I don't. Do what you have to do to secure yourself and we'll... see what happens."
He stared down at her. She wanted to press him, but had a feeling that would only push him in the opposite direction.
"Let me go talk to V," he said finally.
"Chains," Rhage repeated, while standing in the middle of the Pit's living room.
V looked over the top of his computer screen. "Like what kind?"
"The ones you'd tow a car with."
Butch came in from the kitchen, Bud in one hand, sandwich in the other. "Hey, big man. S'up?"
"I want the two of you to chain me to my bed."
"Kinky."
"So do we have something we can use, V?"
Vishous repositioned his Sox hat. "The garage. I think there are some in the garage. But Rhage, man, what are you thinking?"
"I need to... be with Mary. But I don't want to go through the - " He stopped. Exhaled. "I'm afraid of changing. Too juiced."
V's pale eyes narrowed. "And you gave up the other females, didn't you?"
Rhage nodded. "I only want Mary. I couldn't even get hard for anyone else at this point."
"Ah, shit, man," Vishous said under his breath.
"Why's monogamy a bad thing?" Butch asked as he sat down and popped open the can of beer. "I mean, that's a damn fine woman you got. Mary's good people."
V shook his head. "Remember what you saw in that clearing, cop? How'd you like that anywhere near a female you loved?"
Butch put down the Bud without drinking from it. His eyes traveled over Rhage's body.
"We're going to need a shitload of steel," the human muttered.
Chapter Forty-four
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 ass**le.
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 Forty-five
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.