Blood Vow (Black Dagger Legacy #2)(85)

She ran those scissors directly up the length of his erection.

Grabbing on to the blankets, fisting them hard, Axe kicked his head back, gritted his teeth, and groaned, “I’m coming—oh, fuck …”

The release was stronger than any he had been having down at that sex club, the sensations so crisp and clean, they were just like those blades, slicing through his body.

But he was worried what she would think of him. He didn’t want to go too far, too fast—

Nope, he shouldn’t have worried. Elise was enthralled, her white fangs biting into her lower lip as if she were holding in her own groans of pleasure, her eyes rapt on his cock and his ejaculations, her body poised to mount him.

Except when it was over, she just kept right on cutting, the head of his cock doing a desperate dance as she went up over his six-pack. Higher still to the pads of his pecs. All the way to his neck.

Axe couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to. Especially as she finished the job, moved all the material out of the way, and sat back.

“I want to touch you,” she said with an awe that made him flush.

“Anywhere.” God, his voice was rough. “Fuck, do anything you want to me.”

She kissed him first, and holy hell, he loved being under her control, her mastery. He was naked, vulnerable from the injuries, and so fucking hot for her that she could violate him twelve different ways to Sunday and he would have begged her for more, harder, again, again, again, oh, please, Elise, take me again.…

Her hands were like water passing over his skin as her tongue licked at his mouth and penetrated him, taking him while she gave of herself. And then she was kissing down his throat.

“What are these tattoos?” she asked as her lips brushed over his jugular. His collarbone. “Only one side? Your earrings and piercings as well.”

“Two halves,” he mumbled as he arched his lower body, his erection heavy and hot as it lay on his lower abdomen.

“Of you?”

He nodded and tried to answer. “Who I am … who I wish I were.”

She paused. “Who do you wish you were?”

For a second, the mood was threatened, cracks appearing in the heat and lust. He couldn’t afford to have it shatter, though. This was too good, too rare.…

“Axe?”

“I want to be good. I really do.” Fuck, he sounded like a child. “I want to be a good son, not a broken one.”

“Well, I think you’re good.”

You don’t really know me, he thought with a sudden fear.

Shit, what if she found out he was a dirty whore … and a former drug addict who had let his father down when the male had needed him most?

And it was sad, but as misplaced as her faith was, he needed it: Her belief in him was almost a form of forgiveness, something he desperately wanted, but had never expected to find.

“I want to be good for you,” he said, meaning every word. In every way possible.

Except there was no dwelling on that—Elise proceeded to be reallllllly good to him, her mouth traveling down his torso, until it lingered at the head of his cock. Oh, fuck, her eyes were staring up his chest at him, and then she extended her tongue and tasted his tip. As he cursed out loud and jerked, she sucked him in—

A blaze of pain, in a place males generally didn’t tolerate discomfort well, made him jump and make things worse.

“Ouch!” he barked as her teeth caught him again. “No, no—don’t stop—”

“I’m sorry!” She sat up in a panic, his arousal still wrapped by her palm. “I’ve never done this before—I forgot I had fangs—”

“Keep going—”

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

“I like it—”

All at once, the absurdity in the sexual situation hit them both, and he wasn’t sure who started laughing first, but soon, they were both roaring.

It was so good to be free of pain and emptiness, to feel instead not only pleasure … but happiness.

It had been so very long for him.

Not since his mother had left and not looked back.





THIRTY-THREE


Elise couldn’t believe how crazy it was that she was acting like some kind of seductress—when in reality, she’d only had sex once, it hadn’t been very good, and she’d certainly never tried to give anyone a … you know.

God, she was so repressed, she couldn’t even say the words in her head.

Blow. Job.

“Yes. Please.”

As Axe answered, she realized she’d spoken out loud. “Oh, jeez—guess I’m not very smooth, am I?”

He reached down and brushed her cheek. “You are … amazing. You make me feel things I never have before. You’re perfect just exactly the way you are and with precisely what you are doing.”

“But I just bit you on your—” And P.S., holy crap, she couldn’t believe she was just sitting here with his sex in her hand like the thing was nothing more unusual than the receiver on a desk phone.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“Um …”

“Love handle. Dumb handle, little head, dick, cock …”

More laughing with him, the two of them smiling together—and then she wanted to get back to business.