Blood Fury (Black Dagger Legacy #3)

Blood Fury (Black Dagger Legacy #3) Page 37

Her hand slipped inside as soon as she had access and the instant she touched him, he jacked forward with such force, he nearly snapped his spine.

“Watch me,” she commanded.

He groaned and looked down, seeing her palm circle his thick shaft—and then she stroked him, up and down, the sensations creating a mad rush of hot and heavy all over his body. Then she was kissing him, her mouth taking over, her braid slipping free of her shoulder and landing with a heavy thump on his arm.

“Fuck, slow down, I’m going to come—”

“What I say.”

Just as the pleasure was cresting, she went for his throat, those razor-sharp fangs scraping down his skin, finding the right place at his jugular. She struck at the very onset of his orgasm and he barked out her name, the pain and the pleasure mixing, the alchemy ramping everything up until he thought he would blow apart.

Cupping the back of her head, he urged her on as she started to pull from his vein, her head close to his own, her scent the only thing in his nose, his cock hard and kicking and hungry for more as she pumped him off.

She owned him.

Through and through.

Whatever vulnerability he had sensed—and not understood, but certainly accepted—was gone now as she ruled everything about him.

He’d never been one for getting Dom’d. That had never interested him much. After this? He wondered how much further she could go…how much he could take from her.

And he wanted to find out.

—

As Novo sucked at Peyton’s throat and gave his arousal a workout, she wanted him in her sex. But the feeding had to come first—and okay, maybe she was chickening out a little, shying away temporarily until she could trust herself to stay separate.

But it was good, all of it. That taste of him down the back of her throat, the feel of his erection, both velvet and hard, the sense of control, of mastery—not just over him, but her own emotions. And on his side? Peyton was defo all about the orgasms, his beautiful male body riding the waves she called from him, his hips moving with her, the rhythm getting faster and harder the more releases she gave him. He was spectacular in her grip, those heavy muscles flexing and easing, his cock the kind of thing that fantasies were justified by.

And then there was the powerful rush of his blood. He was so pure that he made her head buzz and her heart pound, the strength he gave her so willingly making her feel like she was on a very long, rejuvenating vacation while at the same time being in Vegas and winning a million dollars at the slots.

She could have done this forever.

Yet the tipping point came when an alarm bell started to ring. At first, she shifted her eyes over to the monitors. Nope, it wasn’t a machine informing her she’d pushed her repaired cardiac muscle too far.

No…it was an instinct in her own head that was telling her she was on the verge of taking too much.

Prying herself off his neck took some inner arguing, but then she forced her lips to break the seal and made her tongue lick the puncture wounds closed—

Okay, wow. She’d chewed him raw, multiple bite marks marring his flesh, the raw red slashes of her fangs making him look like Wolverine had hit him with a hand job. God, she hadn’t even been aware of striking more than once. Clearly, though, she’d bitten him many, many times.

How long had they been at this?

Not a clue.

And she really had to stop. Extending her tongue, she licked up the side of his throat again and again, sealing everything up. With that job done, she pushed herself back and kept stroking him—before deliberately running her thumb over the slick head of his erection. His response was violent, his body jerking like a puppet at the end of strings, his torso arching and then his hips punching up. His eyes, glassy, unfocused, crazed, met her own as he bit into his lower lip and sucked a breath in through his teeth.

Blond hair was all messy on the pillow. Color on that handsome face was high. A delicious sweat made his bare skin glow.

He was…mind-numbingly beautiful.

Unfair. Totally unfair.

And she was still hungry.

Fortunately for them both, he had another kind of sustenance to give her.

Novo moved down him to his hips, opened her mouth, and took his sex in deep. In response, Peyton pulled another all-body spasm, his expression shocked as if he’d expected things to be over.

When she was sure he was looking at her, she sucked him in and out of her lips, his girth so wide, she felt the stretch in the corners of her mouth. And then she paused at the top and went into a swirl.

Sure enough, he started to orgasm again.

She caught all of it her mouth and swallowed what he gave to her.

Then she kept right on going.

For Saxton, the end of the working night arrived with a whimper, not a bang, a series of uncomplicated mating blessings and a property-line dispute that was easily adjudicated by the King capping off eight hours of same. As he entered his office in the staff hall and put his folders and his mostly used-up yellow pad on the partner’s desk, he stared at his laptop, his orderly-everything, his pens in their little holder.

Rubbing his eyes, he tried to mentally compile a list of what he had to get in order before he could go home.

And pretty much failed at the task.

His head had functioned fairly well when he’d been engaging with the King and the citizens. Now that there was no overriding imperative to focus on, he couldn’t seem to gather the cognitive reins, his thoughts bouncing from one thing to another.

Actually, that wasn’t entirely true.

Ruhn was the prevailing topic. And the particulars were whether Saxton was remembering their kiss…or the flecks of chocolate in those pale brown eyes…or the feel of those strong shoulders. Or the fact that he just wanted to do it again.

Unfortunately, what he really needed was to train his brain on the fact that the male had left without saying a thing. Which was hardly a volunteer for a repeat.

On that note, he slipped his hand into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket and took out his phone. Nope. No texts, no calls.

Okay, that would be no calls, given that Ruhn wouldn’t be able to text.

And honestly, the fact that Saxton was as let down as he was seemed ridiculous. He didn’t know that male but as a mere acquaintance, and he had certainly had full-on sex with people he had gone on to either not see again or not hook up with again and all that was fine. He was also self-aware enough to realize that with Ruhn’s retreat, he had been reminded of another departure, one far more serious and consequential.

Naturally, all roads led back to Blay.

“Forgive me for intruding, sire?”

At the soft inquiry, he turned to the open doorway. One of the doggen who serviced the house was standing with her wool coat on and her hat and scarf in her hands.

“Oh, no worries, Meliz.” He made sure he smiled at her so she didn’t mistake his mood for a dissatisfied commentary on her efforts. “Are you off, then?”

She bowed low. “Yes, sire. I will restock the pantry after I aid the others at Last Meal back at the big house. Everyone else has departed for the day and I have made sure the fires are out, the flues are shut, and the doors are locked.”

“Well done, then. Thank you. I shall see you on the morrow.”

The doggen bowed even lower. “It is my pleasure to be of service.”

She took her leave, and a moment later, he heard the alarm system chime that there was a door that opened and shut.

Right. He had to get things organized here. And then…

Well, home, he supposed. It was around four a.m., and even though there were still two hours of darkness left, he did not fancy a trip out into the city’s nightlife. And no, he wasn’t interested in filling the day with another sex-as-gym-equipment workout, either.

Somehow, though, the idea that he was going to be stuck in that glass box in the sky, all the drapes drawn against even the winter’s anemic sun, made him want to scream—

Someone was outside.

Standing in the snow. Watching him.

Saxton turned to the glass panes and instantly recognized the huge body, the tense stance, the dark hair that was teased by the cold wind.

Not knowing what else to do, he pointed to the right, in the direction of the kitchen and its back door.

In response, Ruhn nodded and started for the rear of the house through the snow.