by J. R. Ward
She kissed his neck. "When we were together last, you were very… generous. You deserve the same kind of treatment."
"But your pleasure is mine." His voice was rough. "You can't know how much I like to make you come."
"I'm not so sure about that." He felt her shift, and then her hand brushed against his erection. He bowed off the mattress, a low sound rumbling up through his chest. "I might have some idea."
"You don't have to do this," he said hoarsely, fighting once more to touch her.
She leaned into his wrists forcefully, holding him still. "Relax. Let me be in control."
Wrath could only stare up in disbelief and breathless anticipation as she pressed her lips to his.
"I want to do you," she whispered.
In a silky rush, her tongue entered his mouth. Penetrated him. Slid in and out as if she were fucking him.
His whole body went rigid.
With each one of her thrusts, she got farther inside of him, into his skin and his brain. Into his heart. She was possessing him, taking him. Leaving her mark on him.
When she left his mouth, she moved down his body. She licked his neck. Sucked his nipples. Raked her nails gently across his belly. Tested his hip bones with her teeth.
He gripped the headboard and pulled, making the whole bed frame shift and creak in protest.
Waves of stinging heat made him feel as if he were going to pass out. Sweat bloomed over his skin. His heart hammered so hard it started skipping beats.
Words fell from his lips, a stream of consciousness spoken in the old language, a guttural expression of what she was doing to him, how beautiful she was to him.
The second she took his erection into her mouth, he nearly came. He cried out, body spasming. She pulled back, gave him time to settle.
And then she put him through torture.
She knew just when to bring it on, just when to pause. The combination of her wet mouth at his thick tip and her hands moving up and down his shaft was a one-two punch he could barely withstand. She brought him to the brink over and over again until he was reduced to begging.
Finally, she straddled his hips and hovered above him. He looked down between their bodies. Her thighs were wide open over his swollen, throbbing erection, and he almost lost it.
"Take me," he moaned. "God, please."
She slid him inside of her, and his whole body felt the sensation. Tight, wet, hot, she enveloped him. She began to move in a slow, pumping rhythm, and he didn't last long. When he came, he felt like he'd been ripped in two, the bursts of energy creating a shock wave that went through the room, shaking the furniture, blowing out the candle.
On the slow float back to earth, he realized it was the first time anyone had ever taken such care to pleasure him.
He wanted to weep that she would still have him at all.
Beth smiled in the darkness at the sound Wrath made as his body rocked under hers. The force of his orgasm took her over the edge, and she fell onto his heaving chest as her own delicious waves took her breath away.
Afraid that she was too heavy, she made a move to get off him, but he stopped her, holding on to her hips. He spoke to her in a beautiful tumble of sounds she didn't understand.
"What?"
"Stay just where you are," he said in English.
She settled onto his body, relaxing completely.
She wondered what he'd said to her as she'd made love to him, but the tone of his voice, reverent, praising, told her a lot. Whatever he'd uttered, they'd been a lover's words.
"Your language is beautiful," she said.
"There are no words worthy of you."
His voice sounded different. He felt different to her.
No barriers, she thought. There were no barriers between them right now. That deadly guard, that ever-watchful, predatory defense of his was gone.
Unexpectedly, she felt herself growing protective of him.
It was odd, feeling that way about someone so much more physically powerful than herself. But he needed safeguarding. She could sense the vulnerability in him in this quiet moment, in this dense darkness. His heart was almost in her reach.
God, that horrific story of his family's deaths.
"Wrath?"
"Hmm?"
She wanted to thank him for telling her. But she didn't want to ruin the fragile communion between them.
"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" she said.
He chuckled. "Warriors are not beautiful."
"You are. To me. You are utterly beautiful."
He stopped breathing. And then moved her off of him. With a quick motion, he left the bed, and moments later there was a soft light on in the bathroom. She heard water running.
She should have known it wasn't going to last. But she wanted to cry at the loss, anyway.
Beth fumbled around for her clothes, found them, dressed.
When he came out of the bathroom, she was heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"Work. I don't know what time it is, but I usually get in around nine, so I'm sure I'm late."
She couldn't see very well, but eventually found the door.
"I don't want you to go." Wrath was right next to her, his voice making her jump.
"I have a life. I need to get back to it."
"Your life is here."
"No, it isn't."
Her hands felt around for the locks, but she couldn't budge them, even when she threw her body into the effort.
"Are you going to let me out of here?" she muttered.
"Beth." He took her hands in his, forcing her to stop. Candles flared to life, as if he wanted her to see him. "I'm sorry I can't be… easier to get along with."
She pulled away. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I wanted you to know how I felt. That's all."
"And I find it hard to believe that I don't disgust you."
Beth stared at him in disbelief. "Good God, why would I?"
"Because you know what happened."
"With your parents?" Her mouth fell open. "Let me get this straight. You think I'm going to be disgusted because you were forced to endure the slaughter of your mother and father?"
"I did nothing to save them," he bit out.
"You were locked in."
"I was a coward."
"You were not." Getting pissed at the man probably wasn't fair, but why couldn't he see the past more clearly? "How can you say—"
"I stopped screaming!" His voice ricocheted around the room, startling her.
"What?" she whispered.
"I stopped screaming. After they were finished with my parents and the doggen, I stopped screaming. The lessers were looking through our quarters. They were searching for me. And I stayed quiet. I clamped my hand over my mouth. I prayed they wouldn't find me."
"Of course you did," she said gently. "You wanted to live."
"No," he shot back. "I was afraid of dying."
She wanted to reach out to him, except she was certain he would pull away.
"Wrath, can't you see? You were a victim as much as they were. The only reason you're here today is because your father loved you enough to keep you safe. You stayed silent because you wanted to survive. That's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I was a coward."
"Don't be ridiculous! You'd just seen your parents murdered!" She shook her head, frustration making her tone sharp. "I'm telling you, you need to reexamine what happened. You've let those horrible hours mark you, and who could blame you for that, but you're looking at it all wrong. All wrong. Put down this warrior-honor crap and give yourself a break!"
Silence.
Ah, hell. Now, she'd done it. The guy opens up to her and she throws his shame back at him. Way to encourage intimacy.
"Wrath, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
He cut her off. Both his voice and his face were like stone.
'"No one has ever spoken to me as you just did."
Shit.
"I'm really
sorry. I just can't understand why—"
Wrath dragged her into his arms and hugged her hard, talking in that other language again. When he pulled back, he ended the monologue with something like leelan.
"Is that vampire talk for bitch?" she asked.
"No. Far from it." He kissed her. "Let's just say I respect the hell out of you. Even though I can't agree with your take on my past."
She put her hand on his neck, giving his head a little shake. "You will, however, accept the fact that what happened doesn't in any way change my opinion of you. Although I do feel tremendous sorrow for you and for your family and what you all had to endure."
Long pause.
"Wrath? You will repeat after me. 'Yes, Beth, I understand and will trust your honesty about your feelings for me.' " She shook his neck again. "Let's say it together." Another pause. "Now, not later."
"Yes," he gritted out.
God, if those lips of his were any tighter, they'd snap off his front teeth.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Beth."
" 'I trust you to be honest with me about how you feel.' Come on. Say it."
He grumbled his way through the words.
"Good man."
"You're tough, you know that?"
"I'd better be if I'm going to hang around with you."
Abruptly, he took her face into his hands. "I want that," he said fiercely.
"What?"
"For you to be around."
Her breath caught. A tenuous hope took fire in her chest. "Really?"
He closed his glowing eyes and shook his head. "Yeah. It's fucking stupid. It's crazy. It's dangerous."
"So it'll fit right into your life script."
He laughed and looked down at her. "Yeah, pretty much."
God, his eyes were breaking her heart, they were so tender.
"Beth, I want to stay with you, but you have to understand, you'll be a target. And I don't know how to keep you safe enough. I don't know how the hell to—"
"We'll figure it out," she said. "We can do it together."
He kissed her. Long. Slowly. With precious care.
"So you'll stay now?" he asked.
"No. I really do need to get to work."
"I don't want you to go." His hand cupped her chin. "I hate that I can't be with you outside during the day."
But the locks sprang free and the door opened.
"How do you do that?" she asked.
"You will be back before dusk." It wasn't a request, not by a long shot.
"I'll be back sometime after sunset."
He growled.
"And I promise to call if anything weird happens." She rolled her eyes. Man, she was going to have to recalibrate her standards for that word. "I mean, weirder."
"I don't like this."
"I'll be careful." She kissed him and then headed up the stairs. She could still feel his eyes on her as she pushed open the painting and stepped into the drawing room.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-two
Beth went to her apartment, fed Boo, and got into the office just after noon. For once, she wasn't famished, and she worked through lunch. Well, sort of. She couldn't really concentrate and mostly engineered a rotation of the paper piles on her desk.
Butch left her two messages during the day, confirming they were going to rendezvous at her apartment around eight.
By four o'clock, she decided to cancel her meeting with him.
Nothing good could come out of it. There was no way she was turning Wrath over to the police, and if she thought Hard-ass was going to go easy on her because he liked her and they were in her home, she was just lying to herself.
Still, she wasn't going to put her head in the sand. She knew she was going to be called in for questioning. How could she not be? As long as Wrath was a suspect, she was on the hot seat. She needed to get herself a good lawyer and wait to be called down to the station.
On her way back from a trip to the copier, she glanced out a window. The late-afternoon sky was cloudy, with the promise of thunderstorms hanging in the creamy, thick air. She had to look away. Her eyes ached, and the discomfort didn't fade as she blinked repeatedly.
Back at her desk, she popped two aspirin and called the station house looking for Butch. When she was told by Ricky that he'd been put on administrative leave, she demanded to talk to José. He got right on the phone.
"Butch's suspension. When did it happen?" she asked.
"Yesterday afternoon."
"'Are they going to fire him?"
"Off the record? Probably."
So Butch wasn't going to show up at her place after all.
"Where are you, B-lady?" José asked.
"Work."
"You lying to me?" His voice was more sad than confrontational.
"Check your caller ID."
José let out a long sigh. "I need to bring you in."
"I know. Can you give me some time to get a lawyer?"
"You think you're going to need one?"
"Yeah."
José cursed. "You gotta get away from that man."
"I'll call you later."
"Another prostitute was killed last night. Same MO."
The news gave her a moment of pause. She couldn't have said what Wrath had been doing when he'd been out. But what possible purpose could a dead prostitute have for him?
Make that two dead prostitutes.
Anxiety spiked, making her temples throb.
Except she just couldn't see Wrath slitting some poor, defenseless woman's throat and leaving her to die in an alley. He was lethal, not evil. And though he operated outside of the law, she didn't imagine he'd take the life of someone who hadn't threatened him. Especially after what had happened to his parents.
"Listen, Beth," José said. "I don't need to tell you how serious this situation is. That man is our prime suspect for three murders, and obstruction of justice is a serious charge. It'll kill me, but I will put you behind bars."
"He didn't murder anyone last night." Her stomach rolled.
"So you admit you know where he is."
"I gotta go, José."
"Beth, please don't protect him. He's dangerous—"
"He did not kill those women."
"That's your opinion."
"You've been a good friend, José."
"Goddamn it." He added a couple of words in Spanish. "Get that lawyer fast, Beth."
She hung up the phone, grabbed her purse, and shut down her computer. The last thing she wanted was for José to come to her office and take her away in handcuffs. She needed to go home, pick up some clothes, and get to Wrath's as soon as she could.
Maybe they could just disappear together. It might be their only choice. Because sooner or later the police would find them in Caldwell.
As she walked out onto Trade Street, her belly was in knots, and the heat sucked the energy right out of her. The minute she walked into her apartment, she poured some ice-cold water into a glass, but as she tried to drink it, her intestines cramped up. Maybe she had a stomach bug. She popped two Tums and thought of Rhage. She might have picked up something from him.
God, her eyes were killing her.
And even though she knew she needed to start packing, she got out of her work clothes, put on a T-shirt and shorts, and sat down on the futon. She only meant to take a little breather, but once she was off her feet, she couldn't seem to get her body moving again.
Sluggishly, like the channels in her brain were clogging up, she pictured Wrath's injury. He'd never told her how he'd gotten hurt. What if he'd attacked the prostitute and the woman had fought back?
Beth pressed her fingers to her temples as a wave of nausea brought bile into her throat. Lights flickered in front of her eyes.
No, this wasn't the flu. She was coming down with the Godzilla of migraines.
Wrath dialed his phone again.
Tohrment was obviously using caller ID and avoiding his ass.
Hell. He s
ucked at apologies, but he really wanted to get this one out on the table. Because it was going to be a doozy.
He took the cell phone with him to bed and leaned back against the headboard. He wanted to call Beth. Just to hear her voice.
Yeah, and he'd thought he was just going to waltz away after her transition? He could barely stand being away from her for a couple of hours.
Man, he had it bad for that female. He couldn't believe what had come out of his mouth when she'd been making love to him. And then he'd topped off the simpering praise by calling her his leelan before she left.
He might as well admit it. He was probably falling in love.
And if that wasn't enough of a shocker, she was half-human. As well as Darius's daughter.
But how could he not adore her? She was so strong, with a will to match his own. He thought of her standing up to him, confronting him about his past. Few would have dared, and he knew where she got her courage from. Her father probably would have done the same thing.
When his cell phone went off, he flipped it open. "Yeah?"
"We got issues." It was Vishous. "I just read the paper. Another dead prostitute. In an alley. Bled out."
"So?"
"I hacked into the coroner's database. In both cases, the females had had their necks chewed on."
"Shit. Zsadist."
"That's what I'm thinking. I keep telling him he's got to pull back. You have to talk with him."
"Tonight. Tell the brothers to come here first. I'm going to set him straight in front of everyone."
"Good plan. Then the rest of us can peel your hands from his throat when he mouths off."
"Hey, you know where Tohr is? I can't reach him."
"No idea, but I'll go to his house on the way over to D's if you want."
"Do that. He needs to be here tonight." Wrath hung up.
Damn it. Someone was going to have to put a muzzle on Zsadist.
Or a dagger in his chest.
Butch let the car roll to a stop. He had no real hope Beth was going to be at the apartment, but he went to the lobby door and hit the buzzer anyway. No answer.
Surprise, surprise.
He walked around the side of the apartment building and through the courtyard. It was after dark, so he was not encouraged by her lights being off. He cupped his hands and leaned into the sliding glass door.
