It was about five the following afternoon when Zsadist finally woke up properly. It was good to be in his own bed. It was not so great having a cast on his lower leg.
Rolling over, he opened his eyes and looked at Bella. She was awake and staring back at him.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Okay." Physically speaking, at least. The rest of him, his mind and his emotions, were open to question.
"Would you like something to eat?"
"Yeah. In a little bit." What he really wanted was to just lie around and stare into his shellan's eyes for a while.
Bella eased over onto her back and looked up to the ceiling.
"I'm glad we talked," he said. As much as he hated the past, he'd do anything to keep her from leaving, and if that meant conversation, he'd blabber on until his voice box bit it.
"Me too."
He frowned, feeling the distance. "What's on your mind?"
After a moment she said softly, "Do you still want me?"
He actually had to shake himself. She couldn't possibly be asking . . . "Good Lord, of course I want you as my shellan. The idea of you leaving is just--"
"Sexually, I mean."
He blinked, thinking about the hardcore arousal he'd gotten the night before--just from watching her towel off. "How could I not?"
She turned her head to him. "You don't feed and you haven't reached for me . . . well, I haven't either, but I mean--"
"Nalla needs you most right now."
"But you do, too . . . at least for my vein." She nodded down his body. "Would your leg have broken if you'd been fed properly? Probably not."
"I don't know. I fell through a floor . . . onto glass."
"Glass?"
"A chandelier."
"God . . ."
There was a long silence, and he wondered what she wanted him to do. Was she opening the door to . . . ?
At even the prospect of sex, his body woke up sure as if it were a gong she'd banged with one hell of an over-the-shoulder shot.
Except Bella stayed where she was. And he stayed where he was.
As silence stretched, he thought about how close to the edge of no return they were. If they didn't take steps to reconnect . . .
He reached through the sheets, took her hand, and brought it forward to his body.
"I want you," he said as he placed it on his erection. At the contact, he let out a groan and rolled his hips, pushing himself into her palm. "Oh . . . man . . . I've missed you."
The fact that Bella seemed surprised shamed him and made him think about her in the bathroom with that towel. When she'd stopped and looked at herself in the mirror, she'd been inspecting her body, he realized now--looking for flaws that weren't there. And she'd covered herself when she'd seen him not because she didn't want to attract his attention, but because she was sure she didn't have it anymore.
He moved her hand up and down on his shaft. "I'm desperate to touch you again. All over."
She came closer to him, moving through the sheets. "You are?"
"How could I not be? You're the most perfect female I've ever seen."
"Even after--"
He shot forward and pressed his lips to hers. "Especially after." He pulled back so she could read his eyes. "You are just as beautiful as the first time I saw you in the gym all those nights and days ago. You stopped my heart then--just froze it in my chest. And you stop it now."
She blinked quickly, and he kissed her tears away. "Bella . . . if I had known, I would have said something . . . done something. I just assumed you knew that nothing had changed for me."
"Since Nalla's come around, everything is different. The rhythm of my nights and days. My body. You and me. So I just assumed--"
"Feel me," he groaned, arching into her. "Feel me and know--Oh, God."
She felt him, all right. Wrapped both her hands around him and stroked him up and down, riding his hard length.
"Is this good for you?" she whispered.
All he could do was nod and moan. With her gripping him like that, surrounding him with her palms, working him, his brain had pretty much shorted out. "Bella . . ." He reached for her with his bandaged hands, then stopped. "Damn gauze--"
"I'll take it off for you." She pressed her lips to his. "And then you can put your hands wherever you like--"
"Fuck."
He came. Right then and there. But instead of feeling let down, Bella just laughed in the deep, throaty way of a female who knows she's about to get sex from her male.
He recognized the sound. Loved it. Missed it. Needed to hear--
From across the room Nalla let out a warm-up wail that quickly escalated into a full-blown, carrier jet-launching, I-need-my- mahmen-NOW cry.
Bella felt Z's erection deflate and was well aware it wasn't because he'd just had a release. He was capable of going four or five orgasms at a clip--and that was on an average night, not after a dry spell of months and months.
"I'm so sorry," she said, looking over her shoulder at the crib, feeling torn as to which one she tended to.
Zsadist took her face in his bandaged palms and turned her to him. "Go take care of the young. I'll be fine."
There was absolutely no censure in his eyes or his tone. But then, there never had been. He'd never been resentful of Nalla; if anything he'd been too self-sacrificing.
"I'll just be--"
"Take your time."
She got off the bed and went to the crib. Nalla reached her little hands out and calmed some--especially as she was picked up.
Right. Wet diaper and hungry.
"I won't be long."
"Not to worry." Z lay back against the black satin sheets, his scarred face no longer pulled in hungry lines, his body still, not straining.
She hoped it was because the orgasm had relaxed him. Feared it was because he didn't think she'd be back anytime soon.
Bella nipped into the nursery, executed a fast diaper swap, then went to the rocker and gave Nalla what she needed. As she held her young and rocked, she realized how true it was that having a baby changed everything.
Including the concept of time. What she'd meant to be a quick fifteen-minute feeding turned into a two-hour fuss, throw-up, fuss, feed, throw-up, burp, cry, diaper-change, fuss, feed marathon.
When Nalla finally settled, Bella let her head fall back against the rocker in a familiar state of exhaustion and satisfaction.
The mother business was amazing, transformative, and a little addictive--and she could now understand how females got way overfocused on their offspring. You were fed by taking care of and doing right by them. You were also all-powerful as The Mother. Anything she said went when it came to Nalla.
Thing was, though, she missed being Z's shellan. Missed waking up with him moving on top of her, hot and hungry. Missed the feel of his fangs going deep into her throat. Missed the way that scarred face of his looked after they'd made love, all flushed and soft and full of reverence and love.
The fact that he was so hard with everyone else, even his Brothers, made his sweetness with her even more special. Always had.
God, that dream of his. She wasn't willing to say it changed everything between them, but it changed enough so that she wouldn't leave him now. What she wasn't sure of was what came next. Z required more help than she could provide him. He needed professional intervention, not just loving support from his mate.
Maybe there was a way Mary could step in. She had a counseling background and had been the one to teach him to read and write. There was no way he would talk to a stranger, but Mary . . .
Ah, hell, there was no way he'd talk to Rhage's shellan about the ins and outs of his past. The experiences were too horrific and the pain went too deep. Plus he hated getting emotional in front of anybody.
Bella got up and put Nalla in the smaller crib in the nursery--on the off chance Zsadist was still in bed, naked and in the mood.
He wasn't. He was in the bathroom, and going by the whirring sound and the spray of water, he was trimming his hair in the shower. On the bedside table there was a pair of scissors and the bandages that had been on his hands, and all she could think of was that she wished she had done it for him. No doubt he'd waited and waited and waited for her, and then given up, not just about the sex but about the help. He must have struggled to get the scissors to work with just the top half of his fingers showing . . . but given what time it was, he either stripped off the gauze himself or had no shower before he went out to fight.
Bella sat on the bed and found herself arranging the split in her robe so that when she crossed her legs they'd stay covered. This was a familiar ritual, she realized, her waiting for him outside of the bath. When Z finished showering and emerged in a towel, they would talk about nothing at all while he dressed in his closet. Then after he went down for First Meal, she would bathe and dress with equal privacy.
God, she felt small. Small compared to the problems they had and the demands of their daughter and the fact that she wanted a lover for a hellren, not a polite roommate.
The knock on the door made her jump. "Hello?"
"It's Doc Jane."
"Come on in."
The doctor poked her head around the door. "Hey, is himself around? I thought I'd remove his bandages--Okay, clearly you two have covered that part."
As the doctor jumped to the wrong conclusion, Bella kept her mouth shut. "He should be out of the bathroom soon. Can his cast come off?"
"I believe so. Why don't you tell him to meet me down in the PT suite when he's ready? I'm working on the medical facility expansion, so I'll just be puttering around with my tool belt."
"Will do."
There was a long moment with just the buzzing razor and the shower running in the background.
Doc Jane frowned. "Are you okay, Bella?"
Forcing a smile, she put both hands up in ward-off mode. "I'm perfectly healthy. I don't need another examination. Ever."
"That I believe." Jane smiled, then glanced at the bathroom's doorway. "Listen . . . maybe you should go wash his back, if you know what I mean."
"I'll wait."
Another silence. "May I make a suggestion that is completely intrusive?"
"Hard to imagine you can be more intrusive than you already have," Bella said with a wink. "I'm serious."
"All right."
"Keep Nalla's main crib in the nursery and leave the door mostly closed as she sleeps in there. Get a baby monitor so you can hear her." Doc Jane swept her eyes around. "This is the room you and your husband share . . . you need to be something more than mommy, and he needs you to himself for a little bit each day. Nalla will be fine and it's important she get used to sleeping on her own."
Bella looked at the crib. The idea of moving it out was oddly and irrationally terrifying. As if she were throwing their daughter to the wolves. Except if she wanted more than a roommate, they needed the kind of space that had nothing to do with square footage.
"That might be a good idea."
"I've worked with a lot of people who have had babies. Doctors like to procreate. What can I say. After the first one comes along, there's always an adjustment period. It doesn't mean there's anything wrong with the marriage, it just means that new boundaries have to be established."
"Thank you . . . really, I appreciate it."
Doc Jane nodded. "I'm always here if you need me."
When the door shut, Bella went over to the crib and smoothed the multicolored satin ribbons that hung from its rails. As the cool lengths slid through her fingers, she thought of the pledging ceremony and all the love that had been shared. Nalla would always be adored in this house, cared for, protected.
She had a moment of panic as she released the brakes and started rolling the infant's bed toward the nursery--but she was going to get over that. Had to. And she would buy a baby monitor right away.
She parked the crib next to the one that was there, the one Nalla never slept as well in. Even now the young's forehead was crinkled, and she was pinwheeling her arms and legs, a sure sign she was going to wake up soon.
"Shhh, mahmen's got you." Bella lifted the young up and put her down in her preferred place. The young snuffled and positively cooed as she snuggled into herself and put her little hand through the slats, grabbing onto Wrath and Beth's red-and-black bow.
This was promising. Deep breathing and a full belly meant a nice long sleep.
At least Nalla didn't feel as though she'd been kicked to the curb.
Bella went back into the bedroom. The bath was quiet, and as she put her head through the doorway, she saw the fine humidity left in the air from the shower and caught the lingering scent of cedar shampoo.
He was gone.
"You moved the crib?"
She turned around. Z was standing in the double doors of his closet, his boot-cut leathers on and his black shirt hanging from his hand. His chest, with its marking of the Brotherhood and its nipple rings, gleamed in the light thrown over his shoulders.
Bella glanced over to where Nalla had always slept. "Well, this is . . . you know, our space. And, ah, she's fine in the other room."
"You sure you're going to be okay with this?"
If it meant she could be with him as his shellan? "Nalla will be fine. She's just next door if she needs me, and she's started to sleep through big hunks of the day so . . . yes, I feel all right about it."
"You're . . . sure?"
Bella looked up at him. "Yes. Absolutely sure--"
Z threw down his shirt, dematerialized right at her, and took her down on the bed, all but tackling her. His bonding scent went crazy as his mouth ground into hers and his hard, heavy weight pushed her down into the mattress. His hands were rough with her nightgown, ripping it as he wrenched the two sides apart. As her breasts were bared, he growled deep and low.
"Oh, yes . . ." she moaned, frantic as he was.
She shoved her hands between their hips and broke a nail flipping his fly open and unzipping it--
Z let out another animal sound as his erection popped out into her hand. Rearing back, he nearly shredded his leathers trying to get them down his legs and off the cast. After struggling, he left them around his knees with a "Fuck it."
He leaped back on her, finished tearing apart her nightgown, and split her thighs wide. Except then he paused, a worried look threatening to overtake the passion in his face. He opened his mouth, clearly about to ask her if she was okay with-- "Shut up and get inside of me," she barked, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to her lips.
He roared and punched into her core, the penetration a bomb that went off in her body, sparks shooting through her, igniting her blood. She gripped his ass hard as his hips jackhammered until he followed where she was, coming in a massive, full-torso contraction.
The instant it passed he threw his head back, bared his fangs, and hissed like a great cat. Arching back into the pillow, she put her face to the side, giving him her throat so that he--
As Zsadist struck hard and deep, she orgasmed again, and while he drew on her vein the sex pounded on. He was even better than she'd remembered, his muscles and bones churning on top of her, his skin so smooth, his bonding scent blanketing her in that special dark spice.
When he finished feeding and orgasmed for . . . God only knew how many times he'd come . . . his body stilled and he lapped at her throat to close the bite wound. The lingering, luscious strokes of his tongue made her want him again, and as if he read her mind, he rolled over onto his back and took her with him, keeping them joined.
"Do me," he demanded, his wild yellow eyes locking on her full breasts.
She cupped herself where his stare was fixated and pinched her own nipples as she rode him nice and slow. His moans and the way his hands tightened on her knees made her feel more beautiful than any words he could have spoken.
"God . . . I've missed you," he said.
"Me too." Dropping her hands to his shoulders, she leaned into him and swung her hips more freely.
"Oh, fuck, Bella--take my vein--"
The invitation was accepted before he finished issuing it and she was no more gentle than he had been. His taste was spectacular, and more intense than it had been. Ever since the birth, when she'd fed it had been . . . courteous. But this was raw, a champagne cocktail of power and sex, not just nutrition.
"I love you," he sighed as she took from him.
They made love four more times.
Once more on the bed.
Twice on the floor halfway to the bathroom.
Once again in the shower.
Afterward they wrapped themselves in thick white towels and climbed back into bed.
Zsadist tucked her into his side and kissed her forehead. "Is the whole issue as to whether I'm still attracted to you settled?"
She laughed, trailing her hand over the pads of his pecs and down onto his six-pack. She swore she could feel his muscles strengthening under her palm, his body drawing on what he'd gotten from his feeding. The fact that she was making him strong made her proud . . . but more than that, it made her feel connected to him.
The Scribe Virgin had been a smart one when she'd created a race that needed to feed from itself.
"Well? Has it?" Z rolled over on top of her, his scarred face breaking into an I-am-the-man smile. "Or do I need to prove it again?"
She ran her hands up his heavy arms. "No, I think we're--Z!"
"What?" he drawled as he nestled his way in between her legs again. "I'm sorry. I can't help it. I'm still hungry." He put his mouth to hers as gentle as a breath. "Mmmm . . ."
His lips went down to her neck and he gave his bite mark a little nuzzle, as if he were saying thank-you.
"Mmm . . . mine," he growled.
So slow, so soft . . . his mouth went down farther, to her breast. He paused at the nipple.
"Are they sensitive?" he asked, rubbing the tip of his nose over her crest, then licking her.
"Yes . . ." She shivered as he blew a stream of air over where his tongue had been.
"They look it. All red and pouty and pretty." He was ever so careful with her breasts, caressing them with his hands and kissing them lightly.
When he moved down to her stomach she started to get hot and restless again, and he smiled up at her. "Have you missed my kisses, darling mate? The ones I like to give you between your thighs?" "Yes," she choked out while anticipation shivered through her. Given the erotic little grin on his face and the evil cast to his yellow stare, he was once again a male with plans and a wide-open schedule.
He rose up on his knees. "Open your legs for me. I like to watch you--Oh . . . shit . . . yeah." He rubbed at his mouth like he was warming the thing up. "That's what I'm talking about."
His shoulders bunched up hard as he leaned down and made like a cat to a bowl of milk--while she made like an ehros, giving herself up to him and his warm wet mouth.
"I want to go slowly," he murmured against her core as she groaned his name. "I don't want to finish my treat too quickly."
That wasn't going to be a problem, she thought. For him, she was a pool with no bottom . . .
His tongue slipped inside of her, in a hot penetration, then went back to its sweet, dragging strokes. Looking down her body, she saw him staring up at her with glowing citrine eyes . . . and as if he'd waited for her gaze to meet his, he flicked the top of her sex back and forth.
Watching his pink flesh work hers threw her over the edge again.
"Zsadist . . ." she groaned, palming his head and pushing her hips up.
There was nothing more delicious than being between your shellan's legs.
It wasn't just the taste; it was the sounds and the scents and the way she looked at you with her head cocked to the side and her rosy lips open so she could breathe. It was the soft, welling center of everything that made her female against your mouth and the trust she had in letting you get this close. It was everything private and sensual and special. . . .
And the kind of thing you could do forever.
As his shellan let out the most incredible moan and started to orgasm, Zsadist moved up her body and put himself inside so he could feel the contractions along his shaft.
He put his mouth to her ear as he came into her. "You are everything to me."
When they rested together afterward, he stared down her full breasts to her abdomen and thought of how amazing her body was compared to his. Her curves and feminine strength had created a whole new person, had provided the protective place for the alchemy of them coming together and making life.
The two of them.
"Nalla . . ." he whispered. "Nalla has . . ."
He felt her tense up. "Has what?"
"Nalla has my eyes. Doesn't she."
His shellan's voice became soft and careful, like she didn't want to spook him. "Yes, she does."
Z put his hand on Bella's stomach and rubbed circles over the taut skin, as she had done so many times while pregnant. He was ashamed of himself now . . . ashamed that he hadn't touched her belly once. He'd been so worried about the birth that the looming roundness had seemed like a threat to both their lives, not something to rejoice in.
"I'm sorry," he said abruptly.
"What for?"
"You've had to do all this on your own, haven't you. Not just these last three months, but before. When you were pregnant."
"You were always there for me--"
"But not for Nalla, and she was a part of you. Is a part of you."
Bella propped her head up. "She's a part of you, too."
He thought of the wide, bright yellow eyes of the young. "Sometimes I think she might look a little like me as well."
"She looks almost identical to you. She has your chin and your eyebrows. And her hair . . ." Bella's voice started to get excited, as if she had wanted to talk with him about all the ins and outs of the young's makeup for a while. "Her hair is going to be exactly like yours and Phury's. And have you seen her hands? Her forefingers are longer than her ring fingers, just like yours."
"Really?" Man, what kind of father was he that he didn't know all this.
Well, that was easy. He hadn't been any sort of father at all.
Bella extended her hand. "Let's shower, and then come with me. Let me introduce you to your daughter." Z took a deep breath. Then nodded.
"I'd like that," he said.