Lover Eternal (Black Dagger Brotherhood 2)

Rhage took the bag. Phury's pale pink shirt was sticking out of it, caught in the zipper.

"Come on, let's go up together."

"You should stay with your female."

"She understands. We go together, my brother."

Phury's shoulders sank into his torso. "Yeah, okay. Yeah, I don't... I'd rather not be by myself right now."

When Rhage finally got back to his and Mary's room he knew she'd be asleep, so he closed the door silently.

There was a candle burning on the nightstand, and in the glow he saw that the bed was a mess. Mary had pushed the comforter off and scattered the pillows around. She was lying on her back, a lovely cream nightgown twisted around her waist, riding up on her thighs.

He'd never seen the silk before, knew that she'd worn it because she'd wanted tonight to be special. The sight of her cranked him up, and even though the vibration made him burn, he knelt by her side of the bed. He needed to be close to her.

He didn't know how Phury kept going, especially on nights like this. The brother's one and only love had wanted to bleed, had demanded pain and punishment. So Phury had done what he'd been asked to do, accepting the transfer of misery. Z was no doubt sleeping it off. Phury would be rattling around in his own skin for days.

He was such a good male, loyal, strong, devoted to Z. But working off the guilt over all that had happened to Zsadist was killing him.

God, how could anyone deal with beating the one they loved because that was what the person wanted?

"You smell good," Mary murmured, curling onto her side and looking at him. "Like a Starbucks."

"It's the red smoke. Phury lit up something fierce, but I don't blame him." Rhage took her hand and frowned. "You have another fever."

"It just broke. I feel much better." She kissed his wrist. "How's Phury?"

"A mess."

"Does Zsadist make him do that a lot?"

"No. I don't know what set it off tonight."

"I'm so sorry for both of them. But mostly for Phury."

He smiled at her, loving her for the way she cared about his brothers.

Mary sat up slowly, shifting her legs around so they hung off the bed. Her nightgown had a lace bodice, and through the pattern he could see her br**sts. His thighs tightened and he closed his eyes.

It was hell. Wanting to be with her. Being scared of what his body would do. And he wasn't even thinking just about sex. He needed to hold her.

Her hands rose to his face. When her thumb brushed over his mouth, his lips opened of their own accord, a subversive invitation she accepted. She bent down and kissed him, her tongue penetrating, taking what he knew he should not be offering.

"Hmm. You taste good."

He'd smoked some with Phury, knowing he was coming back to her, hoping that the relaxant might take him down a little. He couldn't handle a repeat of what had happened in the billiard room.

"I want you, Rhage." She shifted, opening her legs, pulling his body against her.

Swirling energy condensed along his spine and radiated outward, punching into his hands and feet, making his nails sing with pain and his hair tingle.

He leaned back. "Listen, Mary..."

She smiled and swept the nightgown over her head, tossing it so the thing fell to the floor in a swirl. Her naked skin in the candlelight tangled him up. He couldn't move.

"Love me, Rhage." She took his hands and put them to her br**sts. Even as he told himself not to touch her, he cupped the swells, thumbs smoothing over her ni**les. She arched her back. "Oh, yes. Like that."

He went for her neck, licking up her vein. He wanted to drink from her so badly, especially as she held his head in place as if that was what she wanted, too. It wasn't that he needed to feed. He wanted her in his body, in his blood. He wanted to be sustained by her, live off of her. He wished she could do the same with him.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled back, trying to take him down on the mattress. God help him, he let her. She was under him now, smelling of the arousal she had for him.

Rhage closed his eyes. He couldn't deny her. He couldn't stop the rush inside of him. Trapped between the two, he kissed her and prayed.

Something wasn't right, Mary thought.

Rhage was staying out of reach. When she wanted to take his shirt off, he didn't let her get to the buttons. When she tried to touch his erection, he moved his hips away. Even as he suckled her br**sts and swept his hand between her legs, it was as if he were making love to her from a distance.

"Rhage..." Her voice broke as she felt his lips on her navel. "Rhage, what's wrong?"

His big hands parted her legs wide, his mouth going to the inside of her thigh. He nipped at her, his fangs teasing, never hurting.

"Rhage, stop for a minute..."

He put his mouth on her sex, pulling her between his lips, sucking, moving back and forth, savoring. She bowed off the bed at the sight of his blond head dipped low, his bunched shoulders under her knees, her legs so pale and thin against the massive backdrop of him.

She was going to be totally lost in another second.

Grabbing a hunk of his hair, she yanked him away from her.

His teal blue eyes shimmered with sexual power as he breathed through open, glossy lips. Deliberately he took the lower one between his teeth and sucked on it. Then his tongue did a long, slow lick of the upper one.

She closed her eyes, swelling, melting.

"What's the problem?" she croaked.

"Wasn't aware there was one." He brushed her core with his knuckles, rubbing sensitive skin. "You don't like this?"

"Of course I do."

His thumb started going in circles. "So let me get back to what I was doing."

Before he could drop his head and put that tongue on her again, she clamped her legs shut around his hand as best she could.

"Why can't I touch you?" she asked.

"We are touching." He moved his fingers. "I'm right here."

Oh, God, could she get any hotter? "No, you're not."

She tried to withdraw from him and sit up, but his free arm shot out. His palm landed on her chest, pushing her back down onto the bed.

"I'm not finished," he said in a deep rumble.

"I want to touch your body."

His gaze flared brightly. But then just like that, the glow was gone and a quick emotion passed over his face. Fear? She couldn't tell, because he lowered his head. He kissed the top of her thigh, nuzzling her with his cheek, his jaw, his mouth.

"There's nothing like your heat, your taste, your softness. Let me pleasure you, Mary."

The words gave her a chill. She'd heard them before. Back in the beginning.

His lips moved to the inside of her leg, closer to home.

"No. Stop it, Rhage." He did. "One-sided isn't sexy to me. I don't want you servicing me. I want to be with you."

His mouth tightened, and he got off the bed with a sharp surge. Was he going to leave her?

But he just knelt on the floor, arms braced on the mattress, head hanging off his shoulders. Collecting himself.

She stretched out her leg, touching his forearm with her foot.

"Don't tell me you're going to say no," she murmured.

He looked up at her. From the low position of his head, his eyes were mere slits in his face, spitting out brilliant beams of neon blue.

Arching her body, she shifted her leg, giving him a little flash of what she knew he wanted so badly.

She held her breath.

In one mighty, fluid movement, Rhage sprang up from the floor and leaped on top of her, landing between her thighs. He undid his pants and -

Oh, thank you, God.

She came immediately, clenching on to all that hardness in waves. When the thundering receded, she felt him shaking above her, inside of her. She was about to tell him to let go of his self-control when she realized restraint wasn't the problem. He was having some kind of miniseizure, every muscle in his body spasming.

"Rhage?" She looked up into his face.

His eyes were glowing white.

In an attempt to calm him, she ran her hands up his back, only to feel something on his skin. A raised pattern. Lines, almost.

"Rhage, there's something on your - "

He vaulted off her and went straight for the door.

"Rhage?" She grabbed the nightgown and threw it on as she went after him.

Out in the hall he paused to put his pants back together, and Mary nearly screamed. The tattoo was alive. The thing had lifted up from his back, the design throwing shadows.