Home > Lover Reborn (Black Dagger Brotherhood #10)(33)

Lover Reborn (Black Dagger Brotherhood #10)(33)
Author: J.R. Ward

No doubt, it had been one of those comfortable, forgettable, but ultimately profound sessions in their mated bed, with both of them half-awake and happy to ride the currents -

"Tohrment?"

The sound of No'One's voice scrambled him, threatening to completely derail what was happening in the present. Except then he thought of Lassiter... and he thought of his shellan in that gray underworld, trapped in that desolate field of dust.

If he stopped now, he was never going to come back to this moment, this potential, this situation again with No'One... with anyone else. He was going to get permanently stuck on the road out of his grief - and Wellsie would never be free.

Damn it, as with so many things in life, you had to push through the obstacles, and this was the big one. It also wasn't going to last forever. He'd had well over a year of mourning and grief, and there were decades and centuries of it in front of him. For the next ten minutes, fifteen minutes, hour - however long this lasted - he needed to stay only in the here-and-now.

Only with No'One.

"Tohrment, we can st - "

"May I loosen your robe?" His voice sounded dead to his own ears. "Please... let me see you."

When she nodded, he swallowed hard and brought a shaking hand to the tie of her robe. The thing loosened with little or no help from him, and then the folds were free of her sheath-covered body.

His sex kicked hard at the sight of her barely concealed from his eyes, his hands... his mouth.

And that reaction told him that unfortunately... or fortunately... he could do this. He was going to do this.

Sliding his hand around her waist, he paused. Wellsie had had such a lush body, all feminine curves and female strength that he had loved so much. No'One wasn't like that.

"You have to eat more," he said harshly.

As her brows came together and she appeared to retract from him, he wanted to punch himself in the head. No female needed to hear about shortcomings at a time like this.

"You're very beautiful," he said, eyes probing the thin fabric that covered her br**sts and her hips. "I just worry about you. That's all."

As she relaxed again, he took his time, stroking her through the simple linen coverlet she wore, slowly moving over onto her belly. That image of her suspended upon the crystal palm of the pool's blue water, floating with her arms out, her head back and her br**sts tight at the tips made him groan.

And gave him a specific direction.

Trailing his fingertips upward, he brushed the bottom of her breast -

The hiss she let out and the sudden arch told him that the contact was more than welcome. But there was no hurrying. He'd done that down in the pantry; not going to happen again.

With languid ease, he went higher until his forefinger surmounted her nipple. More hissing. More arching.

More exploring.

His body was roaring, his c**k straining against the covers, against his self-control, against the tempo. But he was keeping things under wraps down below - and shit was going to stay that way. This was about her, not him, and the quickest way to flip that table would be to get his naked body anywhere near her.

It had to be her blood in him. Yeah, that was it. That was the cause of his crazy urge to mate....

When No'One was thrashing her legs on top of the duvet, and she had gripped his forearm with her nails, that was when he cupped her whole breast, switching his thumb for his forefinger as he stroked her.

"Do you like," he drawled as she gasped.

The reply she eventually gave him was nothing but a bunch of sounds; then again, all that erotic straining gave him his real answer.

She really liked the way she felt.

Encircling the small of her back with his arm, he gently lifted her up to his mouth. He had a moment's hesitation before he latched on, just because he could not believe he was actually doing this to someone: It had never occurred to him that he would have any kind of sex life outside of memories, but here it was, up close and personal, so to speak, that electric connection sparking, his body naked and aroused, his mouth about to taste someone different.

"Tohrment..." she moaned. "I do not know what I am..."

"It's okay. I got you... I got you."

Dropping his head, he parted his lips and brushed at her nipple through the sheath, going back and forth, back and forth. In response, her hands dug into his hair, feeling good against his scalp, tightening, scratching.

Shit, she smelled fantastic, her scent lighter and more citrusy than Wellsie's... yet still like rocket fuel in his veins.

A lick brought him the rasp of the cloth and the hint of paradise - so he lapped at her again. And again. And again.

Sucking her into his mouth, he pulled on her nipple, tugging upward as he fell into a rhythm. And while she held on even harder to him, he moved his hands all around her body, learning her hips and her outer thighs, her belly, that tiny rib cage.

The bed made a subtle creaking noise, the mattress giving under him as he moved closer to her... and brought their lower bodies together.

It was time to take this up a notch.

This was why females got that look in their eyes when they thought about their mates.

No'One finally understood why, when a hellren walked into a room, his shellan straightened a little and wore a secret smile. This was the cause of the shared glances between the two halves of the species. This was the urgency to get the mating ceremony done with, and the guests fed and danced, and the house shut up for the day.

This was why happily mated couples sometimes did not come down for First Meal. Or Last Meal. Or any meals in between.

This feast of the senses was the ultimate sustenance for the species.

And something she had never believed she would know.

The reason she was able to enjoy it? In spite of the frantic demand in both of their bodies, Tohr was so careful with her. Even though he was obviously aroused, and so was she, he did not rush: His self-control was a set of steel bars over their collective mating instincts, his tasting and tempo as unhurried and unthreatening as the graceful fall of a feather through still air.

It was rather driving her nuts, actually.

But she knew it was for the good. Frustrated as she was, she knew this was the right way, for there was no possibility of confusing who she was with or whether she wanted this -

The sensation of his wet mouth sealed upon her breast made her cry out and score his scalp. And that was before he began to suckle at her.

Around her nipple, he said, "Will you open your legs for me?"

Her thighs obeyed before her lips could form an acquiescence, and the laugh she got in response was a deep rumble of satisfaction in his chest. He also wasted no time. Relocking his mouth onto her breast, his palm slipped down to the top of her thigh and drifted over to the inside.

"Lift your hips for me," he said before licking at her nipple some more.

She obeyed immediately, so lost in anticipation that she couldn't comprehend why he'd asked. Except then there was a soft brush all around her legs.

The sheath. He was moving the sheath up -

His touch returned, brushing over the top of her thigh, going downward... before moving once again to the inside....

Oh, the lack of barrier. As if it had not already been good enough.

In response, her pelvis arched and strained and got nowhere when it came to urging him to the heat he would ultimately claim. Verily, under his diverted ministrations, the blooming at her core shifted into something edgy, the welling sensation changing into a sharp-edged need, the pain of which was much like that of the strikes he'd taken at her vein.

The first touch of her sex was nothing but a passover that had her crying out for more. The second was a slower shift. The third was a -

She shot her hand down and covered his, pushing him against her heat.

His moan was unexpected, suggesting that the feel of her might have made him orgasm himself - yes, she could tell by the way his body spasmed that he had found another release, his hips jerking beneath the blankets in a way that made her think of penetration.

Repeated, vigorous penetration.

"Tohrment..." Her voice was ragged, her brain clogged, her body the only thing that was clear on anything.

It was a while before he could answer her with something other than heaving breath. "Are you okay?"

"Help me. I need..."

He brushed his lips against her breast and inched his hand away. "I'll take care of it. Promise. Just a little longer."

She didn't know how much "longer" she could stand before her body blew apart.

Except then he taught her that there were even greater heights of frustration.

Eventually, the rubbing started just as it all had, slowly, lightly, a tease rather than a bona fide touch. But thanks be to the great Scribe Virgin, it didn't stay that way. As he subtly increased the pressure at the top of her sex, she was reminded of the way he had pleasured himself in the clinic, his hands pushing down at his hips, his body creating friction until something snapped and the pleasure crested -

The orgasm was more powerful than anything she had ever felt: Not even the pain she had known at the hands of the symphath came close to the pleasure that bucked through her lower body, reverberated up her torso, and echoed out to the tips of her fingers and her toes.

She knew earth. She knew the Sanctuary.

But this... was heaven.

Chapter Thirty-Two

As No'One orgasmed, Tohr's c**k released again, the feel of her slick sex and her hips jerking and her voice crying out putting him waaaaay over the threshold: She was wet; she was open; she was ready for him.

She was luscious.

And as she rubbed herself against his hand, he wanted his mouth on her and his tongue up inside her so he could swallow what he had given her.

In fact, if she hadn't been locked against him so tightly, he would have moved into position right away, heading down her body and finding her with his lips. But there was no going anywhere at the moment. Not until both their rides were over and their muscles had unlocked from their bones.

Except... she didn't let go of him.

Even after her release had passed, her arms retained their shockingly strong hold on his neck.

When she started to shake, he felt every tremor.

At first he wondered if it was the passion returning, but it was quickly obvious that wasn't the case.

No'One was crying softly.

As he tried to pull back, she just gripped him more tightly, tucking her head against his chest and burrowing in. Clearly, she wasn't afraid of him, or hurt by him. But, God, still...

"Shh..." he whispered as he put his big palm on her back and began circling in gentle strokes. "It's okay...."

Actually, that one was a lie. He wasn't sure if anything was okay. Especially as she started to sob in earnest.

Given there was nothing he could do but stay with her, he dropped his head close to hers and yanked the duvet off his legs to cover her up and keep her warm.

She cried forever.

He would have held her even longer than that.

It was odd... providing her with a grounding place grounded himself, giving him a purpose and focus that was just as strong as the sexual ones had been only moments before. And in retrospect, he should have known this was coming. What had just happened was probably the first and only sexual experience she'd ever consented to. Female of worth from a high-blooded family? No way she would have been permitted to even hold hands with a male.

That symphath's violence had been all she'd ever known.

Goddamn him, he wanted to kill that bastard again.

"I don't... know why... I cry," she said eventually, the words dodging past her harsh exhales.

"I've got you," he murmured. "For as long as it takes, I got you."

But the emotions were passing, her breathing easing, the sniffling not quite as prevalent.

It was all over after one last shuddering inhale. Then she was still and so was he.

"Talk to me." He continued stroking her back. "Tell me where you're at."

She opened her mouth as if she meant to answer, but then just shook her head.

"Well, I think you're very brave."

"Brave?" She laughed. "How well you do not know me."

"Very brave. This couldn't have been easy for you - and I'm honored that you let me... do what I did to you."

Her face assumed a picture of confusion. "Why ever for?"

"It takes great trust, No'One - especially for someone with what happened to you in their background."

With a frown, she seemed to retreat into herself.

"Hey," he said, putting his forefinger under her chin. "Look at me." When she did, he traced her face lightly. "I wish I had something philosophical or poignant or... anything... to help you put shit in perspective. I don't, and I'm sorry for that. I know this, though. It takes true courage to break through the past, and you did that tonight."

"I suppose we both have courage then."

His eyes shifted away. "Yeah."

There was a period of quiet, as if the past had sucked all of the energy out of both of them.

Abruptly, she asked, "Why is the aftermath so awkward? I feel so... apart from you."

He nodded, thinking, Yeah, sex could be weird like that, even if there weren't complications of the kind they were rocking: Even if you didn't go all the way, the shattering closeness that was shared seemed to make the return to normal feel like distance in spite of the fact that you were lying side by side.

"I should go back to my room now," she said.

He pictured her down the hall, and thought that it seemed too far away. "Don't. Stay here."

In the dim light, he could see she was frowning again. "Are you certain?"

He reached up and tucked away a blond escapee from her braid. "Yeah. I am."

They stared at each other for the longest time, and somehow - maybe it was the vulnerable look in her eyes, maybe the line of her mouth; maybe he was reading her mind - he knew exactly what she was wondering.

"I knew it was you," he said softly. "The entire time... I knew it was you."

"And that was... okay, to use your expression?"

He thought back to his mate. "You're nothing like Wellsie was."

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