Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11)(110)
Author: J.R. Ward

Well, except perhaps skinning that man alive.

"What do you want," she snarled.

Oh, wasn’t that the question.

He moved around to her side of the car. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

"I believe you heard the question."

She threw open the driver’s side door and jumped out. "How dare you expect any explanation from me about anything – "

He cranked his weight forward on his hips, leaning in toward her. "May I remind you that you invaded my privacy first – "

"I didn’t jump in front of your car and – "

"Did you like what you saw last night?" That clammed her up. And as the silence persisted, he smiled a little. "So you admit you were watching."

"You goddamn knew I was," she spat.

"So, answer the question. Did you like what you saw," he said in a voice that was husky even to his own ears.

Oh, yes, he thought as he inhaled deeply. She did.

"Never mind," he purred. "You don’t need to put it in words. I already know your answer – "

She slapped him so fast and so hard, his head actually kicked back on his spine.

His first instinct was to bare his fangs and bite her, to punish her, to tantalize himself – because there was no better spice to pleasure than a little pain. Or a lot of it.

He righted his head and lowered his lids. "That felt good. Do you want to do it again?"

As another bloom emanated from her, he laughed down deep in his chest, and thought, yes, indeed, this reaction from her had just ensured that that human man was going to keep living. Or at least die by the hands of another.

She wanted himself. And no other.

Assail eased even closer, until his lips were right next to her ear. "What did you do when you got home? Or couldn’t you wait that long."

She took a deliberate step back. "You want to know? Fine. I changed the cat litter, made myself two scrambled eggs and a piece of cinnamon toast, and then I put myself to bed."

He took a deliberate step forward. "What did you do when you were in between the sheets?"

As that scent of hers flared once again, he put his mouth back where it had been…close, oh, so close. "I think I know what you did. But I want you to tell me."

"Screw you – "

"Did you think of what you saw?" As a gust of wind blew some of her hair into her eyes, he tucked the strands back. "Did you imagine it was you I was f**king?"

Her breath began to pump in her chest, and – dearest Virgin in the Fade – that made him want to take her. "How long did you stay?" he breathed. "Until the female finished…or until I did?"

Her hands punched him away. "Fuck off."

In a quick shift, she shot around his body, jumped back into her car, and slammed the door.

He moved just as fast.

Surging in through the open window, he turned her head and kissed her hard, his mouth taking over, the drive to wipe clean any trace of that human male making his sex pound.

She kissed him back.

With equal strength.

As his shoulders were too big to fit through the window, he wanted to claw through the steel. He had to stay where he was, however, and that made him even more aggressive, his blood roaring in his veins, his body straining as his tongue entered her, his hand snaking behind her neck, burying into her hair.

She was slick and sweet and hot as hell.

To the point that he had to break off for a deep breath or run the risk of passing out.

As he separated them, he met her eyes. They were both heaving, and as her arousal thickened the air, he wanted to be inside of her.

To mark her…

The sound of his phone going off was exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time: The ringing from his coat seemed to snap her back to reality, her eyes flaring as they slid away, her hands locking on the steering wheel as if she were trying to ground herself.

She didn’t look at him as she put the window up, engaged the engine, and drove off.

Leaving Assail panting in the cold.

Chapter Fifty-five

Qhuinn left Layla’s room shortly thereafter, his shitkickers carrying him fast across the narrow rug that ran down the corridor to the head of the stairs. As he kept going by Wrath’s study, he was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, but he paid no attention.

At the far end of the hall of statues, past Z and Bella’s suite, the room where Payne and Manny stayed had a closed door, but the sound of a television quietly murmured on the far side.

Qhuinn took a second to collect the pieces of his blown mind, and then knocked.

"Enter," came the response.

As he stepped inside, the room was awash in a blue glow, the TV providing the light. Payne was lying in the bed, her skin so pale it reflected the changing images projected onto it.

"Greetings," she said in a slurred voice.

"Jesus…Christ…"

"No, I am afraid not." She smiled. Or at least, half of her mouth did. "Pardon me if I do not get up to offer greetings."

He shut the door softly. "What happened?"

Even though he sort of knew.

"Is she well?" Payne asked. "Is your female pregnant still?"

"The tests seem to indicate so."

"Good. That pleases me."

"Are you dying?" he blurted out. And then wanted to knee himself in his own ‘nads.

She laughed roughly. "I do not believe so. I’m very weak, however."

Qhuinn’s feet carried him across the carpet. "So…what happened?"

Payne struggled to push herself higher on her pillows, but then gave up. "I think I’m losing my gift." She groaned as she moved her legs under the duvet. "When I first came here, I was able to lay hands and heal with little or no after effects. Every time I do it, however, the effort appears to drag me down further. And what I endeavored with your female and your young was…"

"You nearly killed yourself," he filled in.

She shrugged. "I woke up on the floor next to her bed. I dragged myself down here. Manny got me out of bed earlier, and I did have some energy. Now, it seems to have flagged once more."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I think I must needs go to my mother’s sanctuary." This was said with total derision. "For a recharge, as it were. It seems logical, as that may well have been the locus of my gift. I just need to get strong enough to make the trip, so to speak – well, that and gather the will to. I should much prefer to remain down here. The decision, however, appears to be making itself for me. One cannot negotiate with one’s physical form, after a point."