The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood 12)

It was a move he did on a regular basis, an unconscious way of asserting and proving his physical ability to take care of her.

“Take my sunglasses off,” he whispered as the curtain of his hair fell all around, giving them privacy. “I want you to see my eyes even if they can’t see you.”

Beth’s hands were shaking as she reached up to his face. Sliding the wraparounds from his temples, his extraordinary stare was revealed, and she thought of the first time she had seen it: in the underground guest suite at her father’s house.

They were exactly as they had been. Brilliant pale green, they glowed from within to the point where she had to blink, and not just from the tears in her vision.

“Beautiful,” she breathed.

“Useless,” he countered with a smile—as if he were remembering the same exchange.

“No, they show me all the love in your heart.” She touched his face. “And that is very useful.”

Wrath’s mouth came down on hers, brushing once, twice. And then he kissed her deeply and slowly.

When he finally started to right her, she put his sunglasses back into place, and facing the household, she flushed as she looked at them all. So much love all around.

It made her feel invincible against whatever came at them.

Over the din, Lassiter shouted, “A-thank you, a-thank-you-vera-much.”

Wrath bent to the side, flubbled George’s ears and took hold of the dog’s harness; then the three of them were walking down the aisle toward the dining room.

Somehow Fritz had managed to pull a banquet of food out of thin air, the table magically set during the ceremony with a simple but ample spread.

But first there was business.

As Rehv came in past the arches, he nodded to Beth and she leaned into her husband.

“It’s time to sign,” she said.

It was painful to watch her husband’s unrestrained happiness tighten right up.

“Just the same, right?” she whispered. “We’re married. We’re covered.”

“Yeah…” There was a long pause. “Yeah, I can do this.”

Except he took his time going over to where Rehv was unrolling a parchment that had red and black ribbons streaming off its lower half.

“I have a blue pen for the signature line,” Rehv said, taking the thing out of his mink coat. “This document has been prepared by Saxton, and it’s been predated to three weeks ago. He’s assured me that the wording is ironclad and nothing that they can dispute in any way.”

“Ironclad,” Wrath muttered.

Rehv put out the pen. “Sign it and I’ll take care of the delivery—with pleasure.”

Beth dropped his hand to give her man some space—but he didn’t want that, clearly. Gathering her palm back, he stood over the parchment.

“What does it say?” he demanded roughly.

Beth looked over the symbols and saw nothing but patterns of blue ink.

“It says…” Rehv leaned in. “That the union is annulled.”

“Like it never existed?” Wrath muttered.

Rehv tapped the parchment. “This is a political statement. A political function. This is not about the two of you.”

“My signature’s supposed to be on it. And her name’s on there. So it is about us.”

Rehv backed off, too. Then it was just Wrath and the writing he couldn’t see.

All the Brothers and the members of the household hung in the periphery, everyone quiet.

He wasn’t going to do it, she thought. He just wasn’t going to be able to do it …

FIFTY-TWO

Watching Selena take from his vein, Trez was totally content to blow off whatever was going on down in Caldwell for this.

He’d still been at the club, finishing up some accounting shit that should have been taken care of days before, when he’d gotten the group text about the gathering. And he’d immediately headed home—expecting to see Selena. When she didn’t show, he’d told himself to chill, let her come when she did, blah, blah, blah.

He’d lasted about a minute and a half with that shit before ghosting out, leaving iAm looking grim in the foyer with Goddamn Cat, as he called the animal, back in his arms.

As soon as Trez had gotten up to the great camp, he’d sensed Selena’s presence and become juiced—but that had all changed when he’d found her in the kitchen, in the middle of some kind of collapse. Come on, though—when was the last time she’d fed—

From out of nowhere, his c*ck and balls roared at the thought of her sharing this with anyone else, and to get himself back on the side of the angels, he focused on the pulls against his wrist, the sight of her lips against his skin, the reality that he was, in fact, the one taking care of her.

For how long, though, a part of him wondered.

“Shut up.” As her eyes flipped to his, he shook his head. “Not you.”

Tracing her hair with his fingertips, he marveled at the difference in them, how soft everything about her was, how she smelled like fresh spring air even though it was winter, how her lashes were long against her pale cheeks as she closed her lids.

He could have stayed like this forever.

But eventually she released him, retracting her fangs and her mouth. And then it was time for a little torture: Her pink tongue snuck out and licked at the puncture wounds, closing them up—cranking him up.

Reclining in his arms, her eyes were fuzzy under those heavy lashes, unfocused from satisfaction.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he said softly. “Not for a second.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “And not just because we have … unfinished business.”

Her smile would have knocked him on his ass if he hadn’t already been sitting down. “That we do.”

God, he loved the quiet here. No loud music, no humans cluttering the room, no pressures from the outside world—or the s’Hisbe. Not even the Brothers and their mates, as cool as they all were. Just the two of them.

As his erection thickened even further, he had to shift his h*ps under her head. And then he heard himself say, “I want to make love to you. Right now.”

Shit, had he really put that out there? And yet, right now, all the reasons to keep tight in the head seemed so far away, nothing but distant thunder in a night sky that was for the moment clear and full of stars.

Except then a shadow crossed her face, the lazy satiation replaced by a doubt that made him want to kick himself in the zip code.

Instead of pulling away, though, her hand reached up and caressed his face. “I want that.”

“You sure?” Fuck, he was hard. Too hard to do the right thing.

When she nodded … he knew they were both lost.

“Please,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. “Put me out of this misery, take away the burn.”

Her hand swept down her body, coming to rest on the juncture of her legs—and he almost orgasmed then and there, his balls tightening and his c*ck punching against his pants, until he had to grind his molars.

His first thought was to take her where they were. Not smart.

He wasn’t going to stop, even if someone else came in.

With a surge of strength, Trez got to his feet with her in his arms, cradling her with care. “Where is your bedroom?”

“Upstairs. In the back.”

Striding off, he carried her up the creaking stairs to the second floor, heading for a suite that was over the kitchen wing, kicking open the door. Inside, the Victorian furniture was all heavy mahogany with lots of curves, and the bed was a spectacular expanse of millwork, the perfect frame for her as he laid her on the velvet duvet.

Prowling up her body, he straddled her, being careful not to put any weight down. “I want to … see you.”

Her hands went for the tie on her robe, but he stopped her. “No, I’d like to … do it.”

The belt was as white and soft as the rest of what she wore, and as his dark hands loosened the bow, he licked his lips. Parting the two halves of all the draping, he took his time with the reveal.

“Oh, f**k…”

Yeah, her ni**les tightened even more as the cool air hit them.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and licked at one, sucking it into his mouth as he kept going with what she was wearing, sweeping the fabric off her. Then he took care of the other one as he stroked his way down to her thighs.

Her scent went right to his sex, his c*ck kicking again, trying to get out.

And shit, the sound of her moaning his name made him sag. But then he was back in action, touching her between her legs, finding the hot, wet core of her and rubbing the top. As her nails bit into his upper arms, he smiled against her breast.

“Come for me,” he groaned as he suckled on her.

Right on cue, her body tightened, a cord yanking straight, her torso jacking against his chest as he switched to her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her as he helped her ride the orgasm out. When it was over, she collapsed, breathing hard.

“Please…” Her voice cracked. “I know there’s more.”

“Yeah, there is.” He reared up and nearly ripped his shirt in half. “Fuck, yeah—shit, I mean … damn it.”

He knew he needed to watch the language, and vowed to do better with the vocab.

His pants were treated no better than what had been on his pecs as he tossed them away, not even caring that they landed on one of the spires of the headboard.

“You are … magnificent.”

As she spoke, Trez froze and met her eyes—except she was not looking at his face. Nope. Her stare was locked down below, and a quick peek of his own confirmed that his heavily aroused c*ck was straight and proud, ready to get the job done.

“May I touch you?” she said shyly. Except she was already reaching for him, her pale hand—

The growl he let out was loud enough to shake the mirror by the door, and he fell to the side. “Careful … oh, God…”

He was going to come, especially as she stroked—

“Oh, Jesus,” he said on a hiss before he bit down on his lower lip.

Selena got on her knees, her heavy br**sts swaying, her hair uncoiling from its chignon. Two-handing him, she found a steady motion, going up and down, up and down, popping over the top of his head and then finding his shaft again. And as she worked him, his h*ps countered her, the rhythm getting faster and faster.

With a sudden jerk, he pushed her onto her back and took her hands away from his body.

“But I want to—”

He cut her off with his mouth, licking his way past her lips. “I want to come inside of you.”

Her smile was sexy as hell, her eyes sparkling. “And then I get to explore?”

“You are going to kill me, female.”

As he mounted her, she parted her legs to make room. “You’re the only one I’m thinking of,” he heard himself say.

And what do you know, this time the past stayed away—probably because he’d spent the hours they’d been apart thinking of her on the floor of that bathroom, writhing under his mouth, wanting more. Yeah, the desperation to get into her, have her, orgasm in her, was stronger than all the things he hated about himself. Nothing was going to stop this now.

Especially as, during the time they’d been separated, he’d pointed one salient fact out to himself:

She had been with a lot of males, too.

That was part of her job—even though he hated to think of it. As a Chosen who served the blood needs of others, she had been trained sexually and been with the males she had served. It was the way things worked.

And as much as it depressed him, he supposed it put them on an equal footing—although the sex she’d been having had been part of a sacred role that saved lives. His had just been an addiction.

Past tense there, he thought. Nice.

Gripping himself, he angled his c*ck and closed the distance, pressing into her, finding the right spot. With a groan, he brought both arms up so that he cradled her head—and as their eyes met, he could tell she’d stopped breathing, as if bracing herself for his size.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, kissing her gently.

Her voice was a mere whisper: “Thank you.”

As he inched into her, she was curiously still, her eyes closed, her fangs descending. And all he could do was stare at how beautiful she was against the bloodred velvet duvet, her black hair tangling on the pillow, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re tight,” he gritted out. “Dear God.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t—”

“Do it, just do it.”

Trez frowned, thinking that was an odd way—

It happened so fast that he didn’t have a chance to stop it—Selena gripped his hips, locked him in place, and thrust herself forward, driving him past a barrier … that should not have been there.

As she let out a gasp of pain, nothing computed. “What the…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t finish the thought. The tight grip of her all around him was too much, and the orgasm that had been brewing kicked out of him, flowing into her body.

In response, Selena linked her legs around his ass, a sigh rippling out of her as he tried to keep any thrusting to a minimum. Virgin? Virgin …

And then he remembered, back in the bathroom … Take me, teach me.

Virgin.

Trez withdrew so fast, she winced—and he nearly ended up not just off the bed, but out of the room.

The blood on his deflating erection made his gut fist up. “Selena … Christ, why didn’t you say something?” s a move he did on a regular basis, an unconscious way of asserting and proving his physical ability to take care of her.

“Take my sunglasses off,” he whispered as the curtain of his hair fell all around, giving them privacy. “I want you to see my eyes even if they can’t see you.”

Beth’s hands were shaking as she reached up to his face. Sliding the wraparounds from his temples, his extraordinary stare was revealed, and she thought of the first time she had seen it: in the underground guest suite at her father’s house.

They were exactly as they had been. Brilliant pale green, they glowed from within to the point where she had to blink, and not just from the tears in her vision.

“Beautiful,” she breathed.

“Useless,” he countered with a smile—as if he were remembering the same exchange.

“No, they show me all the love in your heart.” She touched his face. “And that is very useful.”

Wrath’s mouth came down on hers, brushing once, twice. And then he kissed her deeply and slowly.

When he finally started to right her, she put his sunglasses back into place, and facing the household, she flushed as she looked at them all. So much love all around.

It made her feel invincible against whatever came at them.

Over the din, Lassiter shouted, “A-thank you, a-thank-you-vera-much.”

Wrath bent to the side, flubbled George’s ears and took hold of the dog’s harness; then the three of them were walking down the aisle toward the dining room.

Somehow Fritz had managed to pull a banquet of food out of thin air, the table magically set during the ceremony with a simple but ample spread.

But first there was business.

As Rehv came in past the arches, he nodded to Beth and she leaned into her husband.

“It’s time to sign,” she said.

It was painful to watch her husband’s unrestrained happiness tighten right up.

“Just the same, right?” she whispered. “We’re married. We’re covered.”

“Yeah…” There was a long pause. “Yeah, I can do this.”

Except he took his time going over to where Rehv was unrolling a parchment that had red and black ribbons streaming off its lower half.

“I have a blue pen for the signature line,” Rehv said, taking the thing out of his mink coat. “This document has been prepared by Saxton, and it’s been predated to three weeks ago. He’s assured me that the wording is ironclad and nothing that they can dispute in any way.”

“Ironclad,” Wrath muttered.

Rehv put out the pen. “Sign it and I’ll take care of the delivery—with pleasure.”

Beth dropped his hand to give her man some space—but he didn’t want that, clearly. Gathering her palm back, he stood over the parchment.

“What does it say?” he demanded roughly.

Beth looked over the symbols and saw nothing but patterns of blue ink.

“It says…” Rehv leaned in. “That the union is annulled.”

“Like it never existed?” Wrath muttered.

Rehv tapped the parchment. “This is a political statement. A political function. This is not about the two of you.”

“My signature’s supposed to be on it. And her name’s on there. So it is about us.”

Rehv backed off, too. Then it was just Wrath and the writing he couldn’t see.

All the Brothers and the members of the household hung in the periphery, everyone quiet.

He wasn’t going to do it, she thought. He just wasn’t going to be able to do it …

FIFTY-TWO

Watching Selena take from his vein, Trez was totally content to blow off whatever was going on down in Caldwell for this.

He’d still been at the club, finishing up some accounting shit that should have been taken care of days before, when he’d gotten the group text about the gathering. And he’d immediately headed home—expecting to see Selena. When she didn’t show, he’d told himself to chill, let her come when she did, blah, blah, blah.

He’d lasted about a minute and a half with that shit before ghosting out, leaving iAm looking grim in the foyer with Goddamn Cat, as he called the animal, back in his arms.

As soon as Trez had gotten up to the great camp, he’d sensed Selena’s presence and become juiced—but that had all changed when he’d found her in the kitchen, in the middle of some kind of collapse. Come on, though—when was the last time she’d fed—

From out of nowhere, his c*ck and balls roared at the thought of her sharing this with anyone else, and to get himself back on the side of the angels, he focused on the pulls against his wrist, the sight of her lips against his skin, the reality that he was, in fact, the one taking care of her.

For how long, though, a part of him wondered.

“Shut up.” As her eyes flipped to his, he shook his head. “Not you.”

Tracing her hair with his fingertips, he marveled at the difference in them, how soft everything about her was, how she smelled like fresh spring air even though it was winter, how her lashes were long against her pale cheeks as she closed her lids.

He could have stayed like this forever.

But eventually she released him, retracting her fangs and her mouth. And then it was time for a little torture: Her pink tongue snuck out and licked at the puncture wounds, closing them up—cranking him up.

Reclining in his arms, her eyes were fuzzy under those heavy lashes, unfocused from satisfaction.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he said softly. “Not for a second.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “And not just because we have … unfinished business.”

Her smile would have knocked him on his ass if he hadn’t already been sitting down. “That we do.”

God, he loved the quiet here. No loud music, no humans cluttering the room, no pressures from the outside world—or the s’Hisbe. Not even the Brothers and their mates, as cool as they all were. Just the two of them.

As his erection thickened even further, he had to shift his h*ps under her head. And then he heard himself say, “I want to make love to you. Right now.”

Shit, had he really put that out there? And yet, right now, all the reasons to keep tight in the head seemed so far away, nothing but distant thunder in a night sky that was for the moment clear and full of stars.

Except then a shadow crossed her face, the lazy satiation replaced by a doubt that made him want to kick himself in the zip code.

Instead of pulling away, though, her hand reached up and caressed his face. “I want that.”

“You sure?” Fuck, he was hard. Too hard to do the right thing.

When she nodded … he knew they were both lost.

“Please,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. “Put me out of this misery, take away the burn.”

Her hand swept down her body, coming to rest on the juncture of her legs—and he almost orgasmed then and there, his balls tightening and his c*ck punching against his pants, until he had to grind his molars.

His first thought was to take her where they were. Not smart.

He wasn’t going to stop, even if someone else came in.

With a surge of strength, Trez got to his feet with her in his arms, cradling her with care. “Where is your bedroom?”

“Upstairs. In the back.”

Striding off, he carried her up the creaking stairs to the second floor, heading for a suite that was over the kitchen wing, kicking open the door. Inside, the Victorian furniture was all heavy mahogany with lots of curves, and the bed was a spectacular expanse of millwork, the perfect frame for her as he laid her on the velvet duvet.

Prowling up her body, he straddled her, being careful not to put any weight down. “I want to … see you.”

Her hands went for the tie on her robe, but he stopped her. “No, I’d like to … do it.”

The belt was as white and soft as the rest of what she wore, and as his dark hands loosened the bow, he licked his lips. Parting the two halves of all the draping, he took his time with the reveal.

“Oh, f**k…”

Yeah, her ni**les tightened even more as the cool air hit them.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and licked at one, sucking it into his mouth as he kept going with what she was wearing, sweeping the fabric off her. Then he took care of the other one as he stroked his way down to her thighs.

Her scent went right to his sex, his c*ck kicking again, trying to get out.

And shit, the sound of her moaning his name made him sag. But then he was back in action, touching her between her legs, finding the hot, wet core of her and rubbing the top. As her nails bit into his upper arms, he smiled against her breast.

“Come for me,” he groaned as he suckled on her.

Right on cue, her body tightened, a cord yanking straight, her torso jacking against his chest as he switched to her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her as he helped her ride the orgasm out. When it was over, she collapsed, breathing hard.

“Please…” Her voice cracked. “I know there’s more.”

“Yeah, there is.” He reared up and nearly ripped his shirt in half. “Fuck, yeah—shit, I mean … damn it.”

He knew he needed to watch the language, and vowed to do better with the vocab.

His pants were treated no better than what had been on his pecs as he tossed them away, not even caring that they landed on one of the spires of the headboard.

“You are … magnificent.”

As she spoke, Trez froze and met her eyes—except she was not looking at his face. Nope. Her stare was locked down below, and a quick peek of his own confirmed that his heavily aroused c*ck was straight and proud, ready to get the job done.

“May I touch you?” she said shyly. Except she was already reaching for him, her pale hand—

The growl he let out was loud enough to shake the mirror by the door, and he fell to the side. “Careful … oh, God…”

He was going to come, especially as she stroked—

“Oh, Jesus,” he said on a hiss before he bit down on his lower lip.

Selena got on her knees, her heavy br**sts swaying, her hair uncoiling from its chignon. Two-handing him, she found a steady motion, going up and down, up and down, popping over the top of his head and then finding his shaft again. And as she worked him, his h*ps countered her, the rhythm getting faster and faster.

With a sudden jerk, he pushed her onto her back and took her hands away from his body.

“But I want to—”

He cut her off with his mouth, licking his way past her lips. “I want to come inside of you.”

Her smile was sexy as hell, her eyes sparkling. “And then I get to explore?”

“You are going to kill me, female.”

As he mounted her, she parted her legs to make room. “You’re the only one I’m thinking of,” he heard himself say.

And what do you know, this time the past stayed away—probably because he’d spent the hours they’d been apart thinking of her on the floor of that bathroom, writhing under his mouth, wanting more. Yeah, the desperation to get into her, have her, orgasm in her, was stronger than all the things he hated about himself. Nothing was going to stop this now.

Especially as, during the time they’d been separated, he’d pointed one salient fact out to himself:

She had been with a lot of males, too.

That was part of her job—even though he hated to think of it. As a Chosen who served the blood needs of others, she had been trained sexually and been with the males she had served. It was the way things worked.

And as much as it depressed him, he supposed it put them on an equal footing—although the sex she’d been having had been part of a sacred role that saved lives. His had just been an addiction.

Past tense there, he thought. Nice.

Gripping himself, he angled his c*ck and closed the distance, pressing into her, finding the right spot. With a groan, he brought both arms up so that he cradled her head—and as their eyes met, he could tell she’d stopped breathing, as if bracing herself for his size.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, kissing her gently.

Her voice was a mere whisper: “Thank you.”

As he inched into her, she was curiously still, her eyes closed, her fangs descending. And all he could do was stare at how beautiful she was against the bloodred velvet duvet, her black hair tangling on the pillow, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re tight,” he gritted out. “Dear God.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t—”

“Do it, just do it.”

Trez frowned, thinking that was an odd way—

It happened so fast that he didn’t have a chance to stop it—Selena gripped his hips, locked him in place, and thrust herself forward, driving him past a barrier … that should not have been there.

As she let out a gasp of pain, nothing computed. “What the…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t finish the thought. The tight grip of her all around him was too much, and the orgasm that had been brewing kicked out of him, flowing into her body.

In response, Selena linked her legs around his ass, a sigh rippling out of her as he tried to keep any thrusting to a minimum. Virgin? Virgin …

And then he remembered, back in the bathroom … Take me, teach me.

Virgin.

Trez withdrew so fast, she winced—and he nearly ended up not just off the bed, but out of the room.

The blood on his deflating erection made his gut fist up. “Selena … Christ, why didn’t you say something?”