Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(82)



Now Devina was the one coming forward, and she deliberately left her blouse wide open, her exposed, tight-nippled breast bobbing with her stride. As his eyes locked on what she wanted him to see, she undid another couple of buttons and unveiled the other one.

She hoped he enjoyed the view. She was certainly approving of the way that enormous cock stood out at her, thick as her forearm, the potent sac beneath promising her all kinds of ejaculations—

Babies.

She faltered as the thought ricocheted through her.

A male like this… could get her pregnant, couldn’t he. If she wanted him to.

When she halted a good ten feet away from him, the male she was easily holding in place frowned. Then he strained, pulling against her hold. Which of course would get him nowhere. She was more powerful than that—

As his right arm broke free, he glared at his left like he was pissed it wasn’t following directions—and at the show of strength, Devina dropped the baby bullshit and narrowed her eyes. How was he that strong?

“What’s your name,” she blurted.

Those black-and-blue eyes narrowed on her. And when he didn’t answer her but just continued to pull against his confinement, she realized… he was not going to ask her to let him go. He was also not going to tell her anything simply because she wanted the information. He was not going to follow any order or even a request.

Goddamn… she wanted him.

Devina’s Louboutins started moving again, and she stopped when she was right in front of him, watching as he continued to strain and jerk against that stuck left arm of his, his erection thrusting forward, retreating, swinging to the left, to the right. The struggle, coupled with his arousal’s slapping movement, was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, his growing anger at her making him glow with nasty intent.

Her hand went to one of her exposed breasts and she played with her nipple, tweaking the flesh between her fingers. Pulling it out and letting it snap back into place. Rubbing it.

Those fangs made another spectacular appearance and he hissed—like in his mind, he was biting the tip off and swallowing it.

“What’s your name…” Even though she knew he wasn’t going to answer. “Tell me.”

There was a delicious thrill to his denying her, and later, she would recognize that this was when it all started. The addiction to him.

Turned out, her version of true love had a compulsive element to it. Made sense. Happiness had always bored her. A cycle of aching need, followed by ecstatic acquisition or fulfillment, culminating with a glow of satisfaction? That was her fucking jam.

Devina smiled. “I’m not letting you go, unless you tell me your name—”

His left arm popped loose, and she lifted an eyebrow. Then he began to bend forward, his chest and abs flexing, his teeth with those fangs gritting, sweat breaking out across his skin—until his torso somehow peeled free of that wall. He should not have been able to do any of this—and that was when her second realization hit.

“You’re like me.” And she wasn’t talking about character traits. “You’re something else, aren’t you.”

No ordinary vampire could do any of this shit.

And of course, her true love didn’t say a damn thing. He just continued to pull, pull, pull against the hold on him. He trembled, his shoulders flexing, the veins that ran down his arms popping, his abdominals standing out in stark relief—and he was still aroused, whether it was from fury at her or sexual attraction, she wasn’t sure, didn’t care. She’d take the former, because it was fun, and the spell should have ensured the latter.

So maybe it was both.

She glanced at the Book. It was still open to her page, the wording dark on the parchment.

The male’s right leg came off the floor, the thigh muscles bunching as his bare foot lifted. He put his arch and sole back down… and yanked the other one up. His ass was the last thing that was liberated, and though he had to grind his perfect jaw to do it, he managed to get himself totally free of the lockup.

“Impressive,” she said in what she hoped was a cool tone.

Inside, she was jelly, no more bones, not even cartilage. She had melted—and the fact that her instincts told her she better not let him know just how much he affected her was a huge part of the excitement.

They stared at each other, and she knew he was measuring her just as she was doing the same to him. Opponents? Yes, but it was going to be so much more than that.

“I’m not kissing you until you tell me your name,” she said. In a pretty fucking good stab at being prim.

By way of response, he turned away from her and headed for the door.

“Wait—what?” Devina demanded.

As a ringing set off in her skull, like she’d been sucker-punched in the side of the head, she hurried after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

As he came up to the lair’s exit, the male looked over his shoulder. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“You’re not leaving—”

“I’m absolutely leaving.”

Devina jabbed a forefinger at the steel panel in front of him. “There’s nothing on the other side of that for you.”

“Au contraire. There’s all of Caldwell.”

“No, there’s not.” She was getting bitchy and she felt no need to hide it. “You’re not on the same plane of existence as the building you think you’re in—wait, how do you know you’re in Caldwell?”

J.R. Ward's Books