Rapture (Fallen Angels #4)(91)
Author: J.R. Ward

Just to piss him off, she bit him on the lip, the blood tasting good.

He didn’t even hiss.

No, instead he turned his head and spit. Then he just looked at her—like he wanted to kill her with his bare hands.

How. Delicious. Was. That.

God, she was beyond ready for some good, old-fashioned, no-holds-barred f**king, the kind that was going to leave marks and have her sore for days.

And in the tense, almost-there silence, she considered her options. More lecturing. More needling.

Or…she could take a match out and light this bomb.

“If I were you, I’d be nicer to me,” she said, extending her tongue and lapping up the freshly welled blood on his lower lip. “Because I have something you want, don’t I—and things could get pretty uncomfortable for your little girl if I’m so inclined. What’s her name? Sissy, is it—”

Boom.

43

As Matthias went down on his woman, only part of his mind was on the sex. The other half was busy reporting on developments south of his waistband.

It appeared as if he was hard as a two-by-four—and just as long.

Licking at Mels’s core, sucking on her, going deep with his tongue, he couldn’t believe the erection that was now, at this very moment, enjoying the friction of being trapped between his lower belly and the mattress.

Surprise!

He’d first noticed the change in his body as soon as he’d gotten Mels naked on the bed. One look at her perfect br**sts and he’d felt a shock nail the head of his cock.

He’d glanced down at his hips and then figured he’d lost his mind.

Except, when he’d gotten up off the mattress to follow her into the bathroom, he could have sworn the shift of the pants over his pelvis registered a very specific kind of hi-how’re-ya.

And now, with her coming against his face, the heart of her open to his mouth, her taste hitting the back of his throat, he knew the impossible had happened.

Reaching down, he shoved his hand between his legs.

The moan that came out of him went right into her sex.

He was hard.

Rock-hard.

And desperate, apparently: because a single, quick stroke on the top of those borrowed leathers and he had to collapse into Mels’s leg, the shock, the gratitude, the—

Logic pulled all the whoo-hoo’ing up short, reminding him that just because he had an erection, that didn’t mean he could finish the job.

“Matthias?”

As he cleared his throat, Mels clearly knew something was doing, his woman rising off the pillows. “What is it?”

Straightening, he got on the mattress and balanced on his knees. Then he took her hand and drew it forward. He didn’t trust his voice, but then again, there was no need to talk this out. The instant she felt him, she was going to understand.

Thinking back to that craziness with Adrian in the bathroom, he still had no idea what had happened—but in addition to getting his vision back, he was now hard, and he was more than willing—and, thanks to that guy, he appeared to be, after so long, able as well.

He nearly teared the f**k up.

To be with her, really be with her…

That man was an angel, capable of miracles.

Matthias placed her palm on himself. The second contact was made, his hips jerked forward, his c**k pushing into her touch, his molars locking from the shock of the pleasure.

Mels stiffened—natch.

Speak, you fool, he said to himself. Say something.

Instead, all he could do was rub himself against her, rolling his hips—which kind of counted as begging, he supposed.

And oh, sweet Jesus…Mels took over from there, her face rapt, her eyes gleaming as she gripped him through the pants.

Falling to the side, he let her claim him, his body going loose as she knelt between his legs and went for the waistband of the leathers Adrian had lent him.

“Are you okay with this?” she asked him.

He appreciated the fact that she was being sensitive about the whole scar thing. But then…somehow they weren’t so deep anymore, were they?

“Yeah, if you are—”

She shut the whole issue down by loosening the extension cord tied around his waist. “Interesting belt.”

“It’s black.”

“So it matches,” she said with approval.

And then he was naked but for his underwear.

Funny, with the view of her br**sts he was currently enjoying, he could have been getting both arms amputated and he wouldn’t have cared.

Except he had to look down at himself, and not because he was checking out his legs.

Okay, still not in his imagination: His c**k was straining against the thin cotton of his boxers like it was prepared to rip a hole in them to get at her. And it was strange…that long, thick length hadn’t seemed like a true part of himself when it had been working before—maybe that was a result of his past; who knew; who cared. Yet in this moment, the damn thing seemed more vital than even his mind.

Still, he needed to warn her that this might not end well—

The instant her hand touched him, the second that warm palm circled him through the material, his body responded with a tremendous rush, his mouth cranking wide to let out an explosive curse.

When he opened his eyes again—he hadn’t been aware of shutting them—he saw her face close to his own.

“How’s that feel?” she asked huskily. Even though she knew.

And then she got him completely naked.

With a surge, he grabbed her shoulders and brought her to his mouth, kissing her hard as she started to stroke him for real, her grip moving up and down on his shaft, slow at first, then faster, each pass sweeping over his head and squeezing.

Matthias got utterly lost in what she was doing to him, and in that awesome disorientation, he licked into her lips, going deep, burying a hand in the thick hair at the base of her neck. More—he needed more—

In a quick shift, he pulled her over his chest and followed through on the roll, mounting her.

“I want in you,” he said against her mouth.

She nodded immediately. “Let me see if I have something.”

With a quick kiss, she left the bed and went for her purse. Rummaging around, she muttered a prayer. “Thank God.”

When she turned around, she had a pair of condoms. “Just so we’re clear, these were a friend of mine’s—and I carried them for her when we went out. That’s the truth.”

And he believed her.

Enough with the talking, though. “Come here,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

Things moved at warp speed as the necessities were taken care of; then they were right back where they had been, her thighs split, him poised over her core.