Father Mine: Zsadist and Bella's Story (9 page)

Forcing a smile, she put both hands up in ward-off mode. “I’m perfectly healthy. I don’t need another examination. Ever.”

“That I believe.” Jane smiled, then glanced at the bathroom’s doorway. “Listen . . . maybe you should go wash his back, if you know what I mean.”

“I’ll wait.”

Another silence. “May I make a suggestion that is completely intrusive?”

“Hard to imagine you can be more intrusive than you already have,” Bella said with a wink.

“I’m serious.”

“All right.”

“Keep Nalla’s main crib in the nursery and leave the door mostly closed as she sleeps in there. Get a baby monitor so you can hear her.” Doc Jane swept her eyes around. “This is the room you and your husband share . . . you need to be something more than mommy, and he needs you to himself for a little bit each day. Nalla will be fine and it’s important she get used to sleeping on her own.”

Bella looked at the crib. The idea of moving it out was oddly and irrationally terrifying. As if she were throwing their daughter to the wolves. Except if she wanted more than a roommate, they needed the kind of space that had nothing to do with square footage.

“That might be a good idea.”

“I’ve worked with a lot of people who have had babies. Doctors like to procreate. What can I say. After the first one comes along, there’s always an adjustment period. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with the marriage, it just means that new boundaries have to be established.”

“Thank you . . . really, I appreciate it.”

Doc Jane nodded. “I’m always here if you need me.”

When the door shut, Bella went over to the crib and smoothed the multicolored satin ribbons that hung from its rails. As the cool lengths slid through her fingers, she thought of the pledging ceremony and all the love that had been shared. Nalla would always be adored in this house, cared for, protected.

She had a moment of panic as she released the brakes and started rolling the infant’s bed toward the nursery—but she was going to get over that. Had to. And she would buy a baby monitor right away.

She parked the crib next to the one that was there, the one Nalla never slept as well in. Even now the young’s forehead was crinkled, and she was pinwheeling her arms and legs, a sure sign she was going to wake up soon.

“Shhh,
mahmen
’s got you.” Bella lifted the young up and put her down in her preferred place. The young snuffled and positively cooed as she snuggled into herself and put her little hand through the slats, grabbing onto Wrath and Beth’s red-and-black bow.

This was promising. Deep breathing and a full belly meant a nice long sleep.

At least Nalla didn’t feel as though she’d been kicked to the curb.

Bella went back into the bedroom. The bath was quiet, and as she put her head through the doorway, she saw the fine humidity left in the air from the shower and caught the lingering scent of cedar shampoo.

He was gone.

“You moved the crib?”

She turned around. Z was standing in the double doors of his closet, his boot-cut leathers on and his black shirt hanging from his hand. His chest, with its marking of the Brotherhood and its nipple rings, gleamed in the light thrown over his shoulders.

Bella glanced over to where Nalla had always slept. “Well, this is . . . you know, our space. And, ah, she’s fine in the other room.”

“You sure you’re going to be okay with this?”

If it meant she could be with him as his
shellan
? “Nalla will be fine. She’s just next door if she needs me, and she’s started to sleep through big hunks of the day so . . . yes, I feel all right about it.”

“You’re . . . sure?”

Bella looked up at him. “Yes. Absolutely sure—”

Z threw down his shirt, dematerialized right at her, and took her down on the bed, all but tackling her. His bonding scent went crazy as his mouth ground into hers and his hard, heavy weight pushed her down into the mattress. His hands were rough with her nightgown, ripping it as he wrenched the two sides apart. As her breasts were bared, he growled deep and low.

“Oh,
yes
. . .” she moaned, frantic as he was.

She shoved her hands between their hips and broke a nail flipping his fly open and unzipping it—

Z let out another animal sound as his erection popped out into her hand. Rearing back, he nearly shredded his leathers trying to get them down his legs and off the cast. After struggling, he left them around his knees with a “Fuck it.”

He leaped back on her, finished tearing apart her nightgown, and split her thighs wide. Except then he paused, a worried look threatening to overtake the passion in his face. He opened his mouth, clearly about to ask her if she was okay with—

“Shut up and get inside of me,” she barked, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to her lips.

He roared and punched into her core, the penetration a bomb that went off in her body, sparks shooting through her, igniting her blood. She gripped his ass hard as his hips jackhammered until he followed where she was, coming in a massive, full-torso contraction.

The instant it passed he threw his head back, bared his fangs, and hissed like a great cat. Arching back into the pillow, she put her face to the side, giving him her throat so that he—

As Zsadist struck hard and deep, she orgasmed again, and while he drew on her vein the sex pounded on. He was even better than she’d remembered, his muscles and bones churning on top of her, his skin so smooth, his bonding scent blanketing her in that special dark spice.

When he finished feeding and orgasmed for . . . God only knew how many times he’d come . . . his body stilled and he lapped at her throat to close the bite wound. The lingering, luscious strokes of his tongue made her want him again, and as if he read her mind, he rolled over onto his back and took her with him, keeping them joined.

“Do me,” he demanded, his wild yellow eyes locking on her full breasts.

She cupped herself where his stare was fixated and pinched her own nipples as she rode him nice and slow. His moans and the way his hands tightened on her knees made her feel more beautiful than any words he could have spoken.

“God . . . I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Me too.” Dropping her hands to his shoulders, she leaned into him and swung her hips more freely.

“Oh, fuck, Bella—take my vein—”

The invitation was accepted before he finished issuing it and she was no more gentle than he had been. His taste was spectacular, and more intense than it had been. Ever since the birth, when she’d fed it had been . . . courteous. But this was raw, a champagne cocktail of power and sex, not just nutrition.

“I love you,” he sighed as she took from him.

They made love four more times.

Once more on the bed.

Twice on the floor halfway to the bathroom.

Once again in the shower.

Afterward they wrapped themselves in thick white towels and climbed back into bed.

Zsadist tucked her into his side and kissed her forehead. “Is the whole issue as to whether I’m still attracted to you settled?”

She laughed, trailing her hand over the pads of his pecs and down onto his six-pack. She swore she could feel his muscles strengthening under her palm, his body drawing on what he’d gotten from his feeding. The fact that she was making him strong made her proud . . . but more than that, it made her feel connected to him.

The Scribe Virgin had been a smart one when she’d created a race that needed to feed from itself.

“Well? Has it?” Z rolled over on top of her, his scarred face breaking into an I-am-the-man smile. “Or do I need to prove it again?”

She ran her hands up his heavy arms. “No, I think we’re—Z!”

“What?” he drawled as he nestled his way in between her legs again. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m still hungry.” He put his mouth to hers as gentle as a breath. “Mmmm . . .”

His lips went down to her neck and he gave his bite mark a little nuzzle, as if he were saying thank-you.

“Mmm . . . mine,” he growled.

So slow, so soft . . . his mouth went down farther, to her breast. He paused at the nipple.

“Are they sensitive?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his nose over her crest, then licking her.

“Yes . . .” She shivered as he blew a stream of air over where his tongue had been.

“They look it. All red and pouty and pretty.” He was ever so careful with her breasts, caressing them with his hands and kissing them lightly.

When he moved down to her stomach she started to get hot and restless again, and he smiled up at her. “Have you missed my kisses, darling mate? The ones I like to give you between your thighs?”

“Yes,” she choked out while anticipation shivered through her. Given the erotic little grin on his face and the evil cast to his yellow stare, he was once again a male with plans and a wide-open schedule.

He rose up on his knees. “Open your legs for me. I like to watch you—Oh . . . shit . . .
yeah.
” He rubbed at his mouth like he was warming the thing up. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

His shoulders bunched up hard as he leaned down and made like a cat to a bowl of milk—while she made like an
ehros,
giving herself up to him and his warm wet mouth.

“I want to go slowly,” he murmured against her core as she groaned his name. “I don’t want to finish my treat too quickly.”

That wasn’t going to be a problem, she thought. For him, she was a pool with no bottom . . .

His tongue slipped inside of her, in a hot penetration, then went back to its sweet, dragging strokes. Looking down her body, she saw him staring up at her with glowing citrine eyes . . . and as if he’d waited for her gaze to meet his, he flicked the top of her sex back and forth.

Watching his pink flesh work hers threw her over the edge again.
“Zsadist . . .” she groaned, palming his head and pushing her hips up.

There was nothing more delicious than being between your
shellan
’s legs.

It wasn’t just the taste; it was the sounds and the scents and the way she looked at you with her head cocked to the side and her rosy lips open so she could breathe. It was the soft, welling center of everything that made her female against your mouth and the trust she had in letting you get this close. It was everything private and sensual and special. . . .

And the kind of thing you could do forever.

As his
shellan
let out the most incredible moan and started to orgasm, Zsadist moved up her body and put himself inside so he could feel the contractions along his shaft.

He put his mouth to her ear as he came into her. “You are
everything
to me.”

When they rested together afterward, he stared down her full breasts to her abdomen and thought of how amazing her body was compared to his. Her curves and feminine strength had created a whole new person, had provided the protective place for the alchemy of them coming together and making life.

The two of them.

“Nalla . . .” he whispered. “Nalla has . . .”

He felt her tense up. “Has what?”

“Nalla has my eyes. Doesn’t she.”

His
shellan
’s voice became soft and careful, like she didn’t want to spook him. “Yes, she does.”

Z put his hand on Bella’s stomach and rubbed circles over the taut skin, as she had done so many times while pregnant. He was ashamed of himself now . . . ashamed that he hadn’t touched her belly once. He’d been so worried about the birth that the looming roundness had seemed like a threat to both their lives, not something to rejoice in.

“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly.

“What for?”

“You’ve had to do all this on your own, haven’t you. Not just these last three months, but before. When you were pregnant.”

“You were always there for me—”

“But not for Nalla, and she was a part of you. Is a part of you.”

Bella propped her head up. “She’s a part of you, too.”

He thought of the wide, bright yellow eyes of the young. “Sometimes I think she might look a little like me as well.”

“She looks almost identical to you. She has your chin and your eyebrows. And her hair . . .” Bella’s voice started to get excited, as if she had wanted to talk with him about all the ins and outs of the young’s makeup for a while. “Her hair is going to be exactly like yours and Phury’s. And have you seen her hands? Her forefingers are longer than her ring fingers, just like yours.”

“Really?” Man, what kind of father was he that he didn’t know all this.

Well, that was easy. He hadn’t been any sort of father at all.

Bella extended her hand. “Let’s shower, and then come with me. Let me introduce you to your daughter.”

Z took a deep breath. Then nodded.

“I’d like that,” he said.

EIGHT

As Zsadist breached the doorway of the nursery, he actually double-checked to make sure his shirt was properly tucked into his leathers. Man, he loved the smell of the room. Lemon-scented innocence was what he called it in his mind. Sweet like a flower, but not cloying. Clean.