Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(98)

Fucking hell. He was so sexed up.

Baring his fangs, he snagged the elastic and snapped it in half. Then he did the same with the other side.

Her knees tightened on him, her thighs flexing.

Taking the free flap that covered her core between his teeth, he drew it off… and there she was. Glistening, swollen, begging for him.

He wanted to go down on her, but he was on the verge of ejaculating as it was—and call him sentimental, but he wanted to come inside of her first. Not into her sweatpants.

Rising up from her, he put his hands to the bulge at the front of his hips. Then he lowered the waistband. His cock broke out of confinement, all but exploding free, and when she saw his length and his girth, her fingernails bit into her own thighs.

The sight of her spreading herself even farther was what did it.

Palming his erection, he lunged forward and ran his head up and down her hot, slick flesh. As she cried out and squeezed her eyes shut, she jerked back on the cushions and her neck strained. Then she pulled her knees up.

Balz drove into her with one thrust of his hips, and as much as he wanted to watch her, his lids slammed down. Good thing. He was liable to pop his eyeballs out of their sockets if he watched himself go in and out of her.

She was tight and she was fire and she was wet.

His body took over, one hand locking on her hip, the other grabbing on to the arm of the couch. He started to pump, forward and back, and he had to see her, he had to look—

Erika was sprawled under him, her head rocking to the beat of his thrusts, her torso straining, her mouth open as she hauled air in like she was on a sprint. With a flush on her cheeks and the blood pulsing in her jugular vein, he knew she was getting close, so close.

Slipping his hand between his body and hers, he thumbed the top of her sex, brushing it just once.

His name exploded out of her mouth and she went rigid. As her core rhythmically tightened against his cock, her orgasm teed off his own.

Just as he started to come, at the moment his ejaculations began to fill her up and mark her as his own, he caught one last sight of her face. Her lids had partially opened and only the whites of her eyes were showing.

And then he lost all sense of time and place and self as well.

It was a perfect little death for them both.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX




Lassiter had always refused to carry a cell phone.

Okay, fine. Sometimes he took one with him, but it was only really when he was in the mood to share TikToks or YouTube shorts. Some of the shit on the Internet was funny or instructional or cute as fuck, and he knew that the brothers needed a pick-me-up from time to time. Tonight, when he’d left the Brotherhood mansion to come to Havers’s clinic, he’d deliberately not taken his with him because he hadn’t wanted to be interrupted.

As he stepped out of Rahvyn’s hospital room, however, he still managed to get a text from the Brotherhood. A group text, as it were: Even though he was invisible, and no one else knew he was on-site, somehow a cadre of brothers had formed a lineup on the wall outside. Like they knew he was in there.

Rhage was over on the left, a Tootsie Pop stick locked between clenched teeth like he’d just finished getting to the center without much licking. Next to him was Zsadist, the brother’s skull trim especially tight, his scarred face as always a thing of nightmares. And then there was Butch, in his fancy threads, and V, who was not smoking, for once. Phury was at the far end.

Lassiter didn’t need to ask where Tohr was. With Wrath, of course, as no doubt were the Band of Bastards. The King was not going to be left unguarded, especially not on a night like tonight.

“I know you’re there,” V muttered.

As Lassiter revealed himself, he put his palms forward, all halt-and-desist. “I wasn’t hiding myself.”

Not from them, at any rate.

“You missed our meeting.”

As V put the condemnation out there, the other brothers were silent, but they were looking like a firing squad, all that black leather hiding bulges so the medical staff and the civilians weren’t alarmed. But come on, as if anybody could look at them and not know that they killed things for a living?

“I’m sorry,” he said to V. “I had to take care of something.”

“Who the hell is she.” Vishous pointed at the closed door to the hospital room. “And what did she do to Nate.”

Lassiter glanced over his shoulder. To his eyes, the panel fell away and he could see Rahvyn as clearly as when he’d been by her side. She was still asleep, but not peacefully so. Her brows were tight over the bridge of her nose and she twitched in her hands and her feet, like she was running in her dreams.

“What did she do to that kid,” V snapped.

“The same thing that she did to your brother Sahvage,” Lassiter murmured. Then he refocused on the group. “It’s not dissimilar to what your shellan enjoys, Rhage. Nate’s outside the scope of mortality now. Nothing can kill him, which is a blessing and a curse that he will have to balance out for himself.”

V stepped up close, those diamond eyes of his narrowing. “My mahmen saved his Mary.”

“She did. Yup.”

The brother jabbed his finger at the door again. “You’re saying that female is as powerful as my mahmen.”

“No, I’m not.”

“So she just pulled that kind of hat trick out of nowhere? Twice.”