And then he entered, hard and fast.
Now she came. The instant he filled her with that long length of his, her body responded with a tremendous, cracking explosion, the orgasm so violent she bit her own lip with both fangs.
As blood flooded her mouth, he slowed his pounding to lap it up. But she didn’t want slow. Using his arms to push against with her legs, she found her own rhythm against his shaft, riding him, taking him… until she soon found herself again on the verge.
And going nowhere.
In the beginning, it had been so easy for her to get what she needed when they mated. Lately, though, it was harder and harder.…
As she strained against him, pumping herself faster and faster, her frustration made her wild.
She bit him.
In the shoulder.
Scored him. With her nails.
The combination should have had him stopping and demanding more civilized behavior. Instead, with his blood flowing onto her, he let out a roar so mighty there was a crash in the room, as if it had rattled something off the wall.
Then he orgasmed. And thank the sweet Virgin Scribe for his release. As he jabbed into her and his erection kicked violently, she finally caught that elusive ride herself, her body rocking with him, the headboard banging.
Someone was shouting.
Her.
There was another crash.
The lamp…?
When they finally stilled, she was soaking wet all over, throbbing between her legs, limp to the point of being boneless. One of the bedside lamps had indeed been knocked off its table, and as she looked across the way, she saw that the mirror over the bureau had cracked its glass.
Tohrment lifted his head and stared at her. In the light from the bathroom, she saw the damage to his shoulder.
“Oh… dearest…” She put a hand to her mouth in horror at the gaping wound. “I’m so sorry.”
He glanced at himself and frowned. “Are you kidding me?”
When he looked back at her, he was smiling with a male pride that made absolutely no sense at all.
“I have hurt you.” She wanted to cry. “I have—”
“Shh.” He brushed a damp strand away from her face. “I love it. I
“You are… nuts.” To use a colloquialism she’d picked up on.
“I’m not finished is what I am—” Except as he went to move in her, she winced.
Instantly, he froze. “Shit, that was pretty rough.”
“It was wonderful.”
Tohrment propped his great chest up on his arms and withdrew so slowly and carefully, she barely felt it. And yet she started cramping somewhere inside. Or maybe that was another orgasm? Hard to know, as her body was so o’errun with sensation.
Either way, the delicious wear and tear was a good thing. They were so familiar with each other now, so comfortable with mating, and the incredible intensity they achieved was a result of the lack of barriers, and the freedom… and the trust they shared.
“Let me run you a bath to clean you up in.”
“That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I’m just going to relax here while you take a shower. Then I’ll do the same in a bit.”
In truth, she didn’t trust herself to be naked in the bathroom with him. She was liable to bite him on the other side of his shoulders—and as much as she appreciated his carte blanche with the teeth, she would far prefer not to use the leeway.
Tohrment slid out of the mess of covers and stood over her for a moment, eyes narrowed. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Promise.”
Eventually, he nodded and turned away—
“Your back!” He looked like he’d had cat claws in him, great streaks of red cutting down his torso and spine.
He glanced over his bitten shoulder and smiled with more pride. “It feels great. I’m going to think of you when I’m out tonight, every time they pull.”
As he disappeared into the bathroom, she shook her head to herself. Males were… well, nuts.
Closing her eyes, she cast the sheets from her skin and moved her arms and legs out from her body. The air was cool in the room, perhaps even cold, but in the aftermath, she was her own furnace, the remnants of passion practically steaming from her pores.
Whilst Tohrment showered, the flush gradually faded, however, as did the throbbing aftermath of the lovemaking. And then, finally, she found the peace she had been looking for, her body uncoiling, the lingering tension and ache easing.
With a stretch that felt all the better for her nakedness, she smiled at the ceiling. Never had she known such happiness—
From out of nowhere, that strange chill she had felt now and again since the fall came back upon her, a premonition she could sense but not define, a warning without context.
Cold now, she drew the covers around herself.
Alone in the bed, she felt stalked by destiny as surely as though she were in a forest at night, with wolves she could hear but not see padding around the trees…
Ready to pounce.
In the bathroom, Tohr dried himself off and leaned into the mirror. The bite mark on his shoulder was starting to heal already, his skin reknitting over the punctures, everything sealing up nicely. Too bad—he wanted the wounds to stick around for a while.
There was pride to be had in being marked like that.
Still, he decided to wear a Hanes T-shirt instead of a wifebeater under his jacket. No reason for his brothers to see it. That shit was private—between him and Autumn alone.
Goddamn… that female was incredible.
In spite of the stress he was under, in spite of that convo with Lassiter on the staircase, in spite of the fact that he’d started to touch her only because he’d felt like he should, in the end, and as usual, it had been all about the sex, the raw, pounding sex: Autumn was like a vortex that he spun around, the erotic hold she had on his body sucking him in and then spinning him out to the surface for air… before claiming him once again.
In this, he was sad to say, he had moved on.
It pained him to admit that, and sometimes as he lay there afterward, the pair of them recovering their breath and cooling their sweat, that old familiar ache sharpened to a dagger point behind his sternum.
He didn’t suppose he was ever going to lose that sensation.
And yet, every dawn, he sought her out and he took her… and he had every intention of doing the same in another twelve hours.
Coming out of the bath, he found her still on the bed. She had curled away toward the windows and was lying on her side with the sheets drawn around herself.
He saw her naked.
Utterly. Fucking. Naked.
The image made his body get instantly hard, his sex punching out from his hips. And as if she sensed his arousal, she moaned in an erotic purr and undulated. Reaching behind herself, she pulled back what covered her and moved her upper leg forward, exposing her glistening sex.
“Oh, hell,” he groaned.
His body went to her without thought or decision, tracking her with such a locked-on focus that he wouldn’t
