Wild and Free (The Three #3)(86)



“And more,” Lucien continued. “She’ll begin to heal more rapidly. Cuts, scrapes, bruises will disappear within hours, then within minutes. And the longer you feed from her, things such as broken bones will heal in days.”

“Oh…my…God! Awesome!” Delilah exclaimed on a muted cry.

It was then Lucien gave it to them.

Everything.

In a variety of really f*cking good ways.

“And feeding regularly will halt aging. Meaning as long as you continue to do so, she will never die,” Lucien finished.

Delilah’s nails sank into his flesh, but he didn’t feel it.

He didn’t feel anything.

She will never die.

“You must feed from her regularly, Abel, starting once a day for several days. Then twice a day for perhaps another week. Then you can likely feed from her whenever you wish, doing her great good while you do,” Gregor said.

He heard it. He understood it.

He still didn’t move or speak.

She will never die.

“Honey,” Delilah called.

She will never die.

“Baby,” Delilah called again.

He felt her leaning into him, her hand on his neck, squeezing.

She will never die.

“Abel, baby, this is good,” she whispered into his ear.

That was when he moved. In a blur, he had her in his arms, and in seconds, he was tossing her on the bed in their bedroom.

She bounced, blinked, and looked up to him.

“You’ll never die.”

She stared at him before her face went soft, her eyes shining bright and her lips started curving.

“Told you you were awesome,” she whispered.

Fuck, she was right.

She was f*cking right.

He was awesome.

Because he could keep his Delilah alive.

Forever.

He lunged.

He’d had a bag of blood brought up while she was doing her hair, thinking the other vampires in residence were probably doing the same thing.

But he still drew from her as he f*cked her, hard, fast, rough, quick, making her cry out when she came, his cock driving deep, her blood flooding his mouth.

She will never die.

He’d have that, all of it (or countless varieties of it, they had centuries to get creative), for a lifetime.

His lifetime.

She will never die.

Fucking finally.

*

Abel lay on his back, naked, Delilah on top of him, also naked, with his cock still inside her since he rolled her there after he rode her.

Her head and shoulders were up. She was looking down at him, the fingertips of one hand stroking lazy on his chest, his hands were curled on her ass.

“What’s in that awesome head of yours?” she asked softly.

“Coulda saved Hui,” he told the ceiling.

“Abel—”

“Mei.”

“Honey—”

“Sying.”

She slid her hand to his neck. “Baby, stop.”

He tipped just his eyes to her. “Coulda saved ’em all.”

“That wasn’t meant to be,” she told him gently.

“Obviously not,” he replied caustically.

“Okay, I’m trying to go easy here, so cut me some slack, but I’ll point out that feeding is sexual.”

He looked back to the ceiling, his gut roiling at the idea of drawing from any of them.

Obviously, in the beginning, when he was a kid, feeding was feeding.

But she was right. When his body started changing and the world became all about his dick and how he could get off, he’d never drawn from anything but a human female, giving it to her as he took.

Doing that to Hui, Mei, Sying—it would be like having sex with your sister. Or your mother.

“You wouldn’t do that so maybe it’s good they never knew you could,” she suggested. “And that you never knew either.”

He couldn’t argue that, but it didn’t make him move out of his current dark mood.

“Since I knew I’d have you, lived knowin’ I’d lose you,” he told the ceiling.

“I know, baby, but you won’t lose me now.”

“No,” he stated, again giving her his eyes. “Now I gotta worry about losin’ you to these f*ckin’ Prophesies. Had a whole twenty minutes to celebrate. Now I know I can have you forever with me, and that hangs over our heads. So somehow that makes the thought of losin’ you worse.”

She stiffened on top of him. “We’re not gonna let the evil supernaturals beat us.”

“Yeah? You’re sure? ’Cause they probably got witches on their side, pissed witches, who got knifes that can f*ck an immortal up.”

“That wasn’t the best news of the day,” she muttered, her eyes drifting to his shoulder.

Too much was flooding his mind; he couldn’t sort it all. He needed space, so he dug his fingers into the flesh of her ass and ordered, “Off me, *cat.”

He saw the hurt shift through her eyes, but before he could do anything about it, she rolled off. He moved to catch her, doing it with human speed, which was a mistake. She kept rolling and was off the bed, nabbing her panties and pulling them up.

“Bao bei, just need some room to think and breathe,” he explained.

Kristen Ashley's Books