Lover Eternal (Black Dagger Brotherhood 2)
The vampire was chanting, his voice rising and falling, skipping octaves, soaring high, falling low. Beautiful. Utterly beautiful. And Rhage was relaxed, resting peacefully in a way he hadn't before.
She quickly crossed the room and went out in the hall, leaving the men alone.
Chapter Thirty-one
Rhage came awake sometime the following afternoon. The first thing he did was reach out blindly for Mary, but he stopped himself, not wanting the burn to kick in. He didn't feel strong enough to fight it.
Opening his eyes, he turned his head. She was there beside him in the bed, asleep on her stomach.
God, once again she'd taken care of him when he'd needed it. She'd been unflinching. Strong. Willing to face off against his brothers.
Love filled his heart, swelling it so much his breath stopped.
He put his hand to his chest and felt the bandages she'd put on him. Working carefully, he removed them one by one. The wounds looked good. They'd closed and no longer hurt. By tomorrow they would be nothing more than pink streaks, and the day after, they would be gone.
He thought about the stress his body had been under lately. The change. The surges around Mary. The sun exposure. The whipping. He was going to need to drink soon, and he wanted to do it before the hunger kicked in.
Feeding was something he was scrupulous about. Most of the brothers stretched out the hunger for as long as they could stand it, just because they didn't want to bother with the intimacy. He knew better than that. The last thing he needed was the beast with a case of bloodlust -
Wait a minute.
Rhage took a deep breath. There was the most amazing... emptiness in him. No background buzzing. No itchy drive. No burning. And this was even though he was lying right next to Mary.
It was... only him in his body. Just himself. The Scribe Virgin's curse was gone.
But of course, he thought. She'd taken it from him temporarily so he could make it through the rythe without changing. And she was obviously giving him a respite so he could heal, too. He wondered how much longer the reprieve was going to last.
Rhage exhaled slowly, air easing out of his nose. As he sank into his skin, he reveled in the perfection of peace. The heavenly silence. The great roaring absence.
It had been a century.
Good God, he wanted to cry.
In case he did and Mary woke up, he put his hands over his eyes.
Did other people know how lucky they were to find moments like this? Moments of resounding quiet? He hadn't appreciated them before the curse, hadn't even noticed. Hell, if he'd been blessed with one, he'd probably just rolled over to go back to sleep.
"How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"
At the sound of Mary's voice, he braced himself for a blast of energy. Nothing like that came. All he felt was a warm glow in his chest. Love unfettered with the chaos of his curse.
He rubbed his face and looked at her. Adored her so intensely in the quiet darkness that he was afraid of her.
"I need to be with you, Mary. Right now. I have to be inside of you."
"Then kiss me."
He pulled her body against him. She was wearing only a T-shirt, and he slid his hands underneath, spanning her lower back. He was already hard for her, ready to take her, but with nothing to fight down, stroking her was an exquisite pleasure.
"I need to love you," he said, throwing all the sheets and blankets from the bed. He wanted to see every part of her, touch every inch of her, and he didn't want anything in the way.
He pulled the shirt up and over her head and then willed candles to light around the room. She was resplendent in the golden glow, her head turned to the side as she looked up at him with her gray eyes. Her br**sts were tight at the tips already, the swells creamy white under her pink ni**les. Her stomach was flat, a little too flat, he thought, worrying about her. But her hips were perfect and so were her sleek legs.
And the juncture below her navel, that sweetest piece...
"My Mary," he whispered, thinking about all the places he wanted to go on her.
As he straddled her legs, his sex jutted straight out of his body, heavy, proud, demanding. But before he could lean down to her skin, her hands found his length, and he shuddered, sweat breaking out all over him. Watching her touch him, he let himself go for just a moment, giving free rein to the purity of his desire, the uncontaminated ecstasy.
When she sat up, he didn't know where she was going. "Mary?"
Her lips parted and she took him into her mouth.
Rhage gasped and fell back on his arms. "Oh, my... God."
With all the other females he'd had since the curse, he hadn't let any of them go down on him. He hadn't wanted it, hadn't liked them touching him above the waist, much less below it.
But this was Mary.
The suction and the warmth of her mouth, but most of all the knowledge that it was her, stole his strength, putting him at her mercy. Her eyes stared up at him, watching him as he swam in the pleasure she gave him. When he sank back against the mattress, collapsing, she crawled up his thighs, advancing. He cradled her head in his hands, arching into her mouth as she found a rhythm.
Right before he went over the edge, he shifted his hips away, not wanting to release yet.
"Come here," he said, pulling her up his stomach and chest, rolling her onto her back. "I'm going to be in you when I finish."
Kissing her, he put his hand on the column of her neck and swept down the center of her, stopping over her heart. It was beating fast, and he dropped down, pressing his lips to her sternum and then moving to her breast. He suckled her as he slid his arm around under her shoulder blades and lifted her closer to his mouth.
She made an incredible noise deep in her throat, a breathless gasp that brought his head up just so he could look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her teeth clenched. He kissed a path down to her navel, where he lingered and licked before moving to her hip. Urging her onto her stomach, he parted her legs and cupped her core with his palm. The silky wetness that coated his hand had him shaking as he kissed her hip and her lower back.
Slipping a finger into her, he bared his fangs and ran them up her spinal cord.
Mary moaned, her body curving to meet his teeth.
He stopped at her shoulder. Nudged her hair out of the way. And growled as he looked at her neck.
When she tensed, he whispered, "Don't be scared, Mary. I won't hurt you."
"I'm not afraid." She shifted her hips and clenched her wet heat around his hand.
Rhage hissed as lust ripped through him. He began to pant, but took comfort. There was no vibration, no god-awful hum. Just her and him. Together. Making love.
Though he did hunger for something else from her.
"Mary, forgive me."
"For what?"
"I want to... drink from you," he said into her ear.
She trembled, but he felt a warm rush where he penetrated her and knew the shakes were from pleasure.
"You really want to... do that?" she said.
"God, yes." His mouth closed on the side of her throat. He sucked her skin, dying to do so much more. "I would love to be at your vein."
"I've wondered what it would feel like." Her voice was husky, thrilling. Good lord, was she going to let him? "Does it hurt?"
"Only a little in the beginning, but then it's like... sex. You'd feel my pleasure as I took you into me. And I would be very careful. So very gentle."
"I know you would."
An erotic surge pounded through him and his fangs unsheathed. He could imagine sinking them into her neck. The sucking. The swallowing. The taste. And then there would be the communion of her doing the same to him. He would feed her well, let her take as much as she wanted -
Her doing the same?
Rhage pulled back. What the hell was he thinking? She was a human, for chrissakes. She didn't feed.
He put his forehead down on her shoulder. And remembered that not only was she a human; she was ill. He licked his lips, trying to persuade his fangs to retract.
"Rhage? Are you going to... you know."
"I think it's safer not to."
"Honestly, I'm not scared of it."