The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood #12)(155)

With a surge of strength, Trez got to his feet with her in his arms, cradling her with care. “Where is your bedroom?”

“Upstairs. In the back.”

Striding off, he carried her up the creaking stairs to the second floor, heading for a suite that was over the kitchen wing, kicking open the door. Inside, the Victorian furniture was all heavy mahogany with lots of curves, and the bed was a spectacular expanse of millwork, the perfect frame for her as he laid her on the velvet duvet.

Prowling up her body, he straddled her, being careful not to put any weight down. “I want to … see you.”

Her hands went for the tie on her robe, but he stopped her. “No, I’d like to … do it.”

The belt was as white and soft as the rest of what she wore, and as his dark hands loosened the bow, he licked his lips. Parting the two halves of all the draping, he took his time with the reveal.

“Oh, f*ck…”

Yeah, her nipples tightened even more as the cool air hit them.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and licked at one, sucking it into his mouth as he kept going with what she was wearing, sweeping the fabric off her. Then he took care of the other one as he stroked his way down to her thighs.

Her scent went right to his sex, his cock kicking again, trying to get out.

And shit, the sound of her moaning his name made him sag. But then he was back in action, touching her between her legs, finding the hot, wet core of her and rubbing the top. As her nails bit into his upper arms, he smiled against her breast.

“Come for me,” he groaned as he suckled on her.

Right on cue, her body tightened, a cord yanking straight, her torso jacking against his chest as he switched to her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her as he helped her ride the orgasm out. When it was over, she collapsed, breathing hard.

“Please…” Her voice cracked. “I know there’s more.”

“Yeah, there is.” He reared up and nearly ripped his shirt in half. “Fuck, yeah—shit, I mean … damn it.”

He knew he needed to watch the language, and vowed to do better with the vocab.

His pants were treated no better than what had been on his pecs as he tossed them away, not even caring that they landed on one of the spires of the headboard.

“You are … magnificent.”

As she spoke, Trez froze and met her eyes—except she was not looking at his face. Nope. Her stare was locked down below, and a quick peek of his own confirmed that his heavily aroused cock was straight and proud, ready to get the job done.

“May I touch you?” she said shyly. Except she was already reaching for him, her pale hand—

The growl he let out was loud enough to shake the mirror by the door, and he fell to the side. “Careful … oh, God…”

He was going to come, especially as she stroked—

“Oh, Jesus,” he said on a hiss before he bit down on his lower lip.

Selena got on her knees, her heavy breasts swaying, her hair uncoiling from its chignon. Two-handing him, she found a steady motion, going up and down, up and down, popping over the top of his head and then finding his shaft again. And as she worked him, his hips countered her, the rhythm getting faster and faster.

With a sudden jerk, he pushed her onto her back and took her hands away from his body.

“But I want to—”

He cut her off with his mouth, licking his way past her lips. “I want to come inside of you.”

Her smile was sexy as hell, her eyes sparkling. “And then I get to explore?”

“You are going to kill me, female.”

As he mounted her, she parted her legs to make room. “You’re the only one I’m thinking of,” he heard himself say.

And what do you know, this time the past stayed away—probably because he’d spent the hours they’d been apart thinking of her on the floor of that bathroom, writhing under his mouth, wanting more. Yeah, the desperation to get into her, have her, orgasm in her, was stronger than all the things he hated about himself. Nothing was going to stop this now.

Especially as, during the time they’d been separated, he’d pointed one salient fact out to himself:

She had been with a lot of males, too.

That was part of her job—even though he hated to think of it. As a Chosen who served the blood needs of others, she had been trained sexually and been with the males she had served. It was the way things worked.

And as much as it depressed him, he supposed it put them on an equal footing—although the sex she’d been having had been part of a sacred role that saved lives. His had just been an addiction.

Past tense there, he thought. Nice.

Gripping himself, he angled his cock and closed the distance, pressing into her, finding the right spot. With a groan, he brought both arms up so that he cradled her head—and as their eyes met, he could tell she’d stopped breathing, as if bracing herself for his size.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, kissing her gently.

Her voice was a mere whisper: “Thank you.”

As he inched into her, she was curiously still, her eyes closed, her fangs descending. And all he could do was stare at how beautiful she was against the bloodred velvet duvet, her black hair tangling on the pillow, her cheeks flushed.

“You’re tight,” he gritted out. “Dear God.”