Lover Mine (62 page)

The
symphath
nodded once and appeared not to care. Damn reptiles. Had they no feeling for their young?

Darius quickly pinned the vision of a blooming apple tree to the front of his mind.
Symphaths
could read more than emotions and he had knowledge that he did not want to share.

The
symphath
drifted over to the door, its long robes trailing on the marble floor. “Then we are even. My son is dead and his progeny is ruined.”

“Oh, but I must.” The
symphath
smiled. “Losses must be borne equally. Surely the beating heart of a warrior must respect this truth.”

Darius put both his hands upon the
symphath
and spun him around, slamming him into one of the massive columns that held up the mansion’s great weight. “I could kill you now.”

The
symphath
disappeared, gone as if he had never existed . . . and yet the ramifications of his actions were borne out as Darius looked through the open door: The male of the great house was weeping upon the shoulder of his servant, the two taking comfort from each other.

Sampsone broke away from his loyal
doggen
and he didn’t bother to stop his tears or obscure his sorrow as he came forward.

Darius stepped forth and took Sampsone’s shoulder in a tight grip. “Whatever are you saying? She lives. Your daughter is alive and she should well render herself under this roof and within these walls. You are her
father
.”

Darius was momentarily stunned into silence. Even knowing the debased values of the
glymera
, and having been subjected to them, he was as yet shocked anew. “You and that
symphath
have much in common.”

A
s John went to sit up on the gurney, Xhex helped him and he was amazed at how strong she was: The instant her hand went to the middle of his back, he felt as though his entire upper weight was totally supported.

Then again, as she’d often said, she wasn’t just your normal female.

Doc Jane came over and started talking to him about what was doing under his bandage and what he needed to do to care for the incision . . . but he wasn’t tracking.

He wanted to have sex. With Xhex. Right now.

It was pretty much all he knew or cared about—and the carnal need went waaay deeper than just a hard-on looking for a garage to park in. A brush with death had a way of making you want to live out loud, and sex with the person you wanted to be with was the best way of expressing that noise.

Xhex’s eyes flared as she caught the scent he clearly was putting off.

“You’re going to stay put for another ten minutes,” Doc Jane said as she started to put instruments in the autoclave. “And then you can crash down here in the clinic’s bed.”

Let’s go
, he signed to Xhex.

Swinging his legs off the table gave him a shot of whoa-nelly pain, but the owie shit didn’t make him rethink his plan in the slightest. It did, however, get the attention of everyone else in the room. As Xhex steadied him with a curse, the good doctor started in with a whole lot of lie-down-big-guy—except John wasn’t having any of that prone stuff.

Would you have a robe I could wear out of here?
he signed, well aware that he had a massive erection and not a lot over his hips.

There was some arguing after that, but eventually, Doc Jane threw her hands up and allowed as how if he wanted to be an idiot, she couldn’t stop him. When she gave the nod, Ehlena disappeared and returned with something that was fluffy and thick and big enough to cover him up . . . from collarbone to maybe midthigh. It was also pink.

Clearly, this was the sleepwear version of a dunce cap, payback for his refusing to stay in the clinic. And you’d think all the Barbie would pull a deflate on his arousal—but not a chance.

His cock was standing firm against the assault on his masculinity.

Kind of made him proud of the bastard.

Thank you,
he signed, slipping the robe onto his shoulders. With some straining, he managed to get it to fold over his chest and cover up his southern exposure. Barely.

Doc Jane leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Isn’t there any way I can get you to stay longer? Or go back with crutches? Or . . . get you to
stay longer
?”

Doc Jane shook her head. “You Brothers are all a pain in the ass.”

Abruptly, a stinging shaft went through him that had nothing to do with his leg.
I’m not a Brother. But I don’t think I’m going to argue the second part with you.

“Wise male. And you should be. A Brother, that is.”

John hitched up his ass and gently lowered his weight off the table, all the while keeping an eye on the front of his Miss Priss of the Year robe. Fortunately, everything stayed suitable for mixed company and remained that way as Xhex ducked under his arm.

Man . . . she was the best crutch he could ask for, taking a hell of a lot of the load as they walked to the door. Together, they went down to the office, ducked through the closet, and emerged into the tunnel.

He made it about, oh, ten yards before he stopped, moved her around so she was standing before him, and then . . .

Killed the lights. All of them.

On his mental command, the fluorescents on the ceiling went dark one by one, starting with the pair directly above their heads and then stretching out in both directions. As everything went pitch- black, he worked fast and so did she. They knew damn well that Doc Jane and Ehlena were going to be busy cleaning up in the OR for at least another half hour. And it was Last Meal up at the mansion, so no one was working out, about to work out, or taking a shower in the locker room from working out.

Limited window.

Darkness was key.

Despite the difference in their heights, which even with her being near six feet was still more than half a dozen inches, he found her mouth sure as if her lips were spotlit. As he kissed her deep and slipped her his tongue, she moaned low in her throat and held on to his shoulders.

In this glorious stretch of neither here nor there, in this one step off the path they had agreed on, he let his bonded male out, unleashing himself to ride the wave of that moment that had happened back at the farmhouse. . . .

That moment when her dagger had left her hand and flown through the air . . . and given him nights still to be lived.

His palm slipped around to her breast, finding the tight nipple, rubbing it with his thumb while he ached to put his mouth where his fingers were. Good thing she’d left her jacket and her weapons back at the house in the foyer, so all there was between him and her skin was the muscle shirt she had on.

He wanted to rip another one down the front, but this was a quick quencher until they could make it up to the privacy of his bedroom: Instead of the grab and split, he slid both of his palms down and under, then shoved the shirt up until her breasts popped out. Shiiiiit . . . she didn’t wear a bra even to fight, and for some reason that was a gigantic turn-on.

Not that he needed the help when it came to her.

As the sounds of their kissing echoed, he tweaked the tips that were ready for his lips and ground his arousal against her. And what do you know . . . she took the hint he wasn’t even aware of making and dragged her hand down his stomach right to—

John jacked his head back, the slam of electricity bolting up his spine so great he couldn’t hold the kiss together.

Faster than he could say,
Fuck me hard
, Xhex pushed him back against the tunnel wall and then he felt cool air as she parted the robe. Her lips moved across his chest, her fangs making a twin trail that tingled though every single nerve in his body—especially the ones at the top of his cock.

John let out a silent shout as her warm, wet mouth found that hot, hard place, sliding down over him, taking him fully, encompassing him in heat and suction. On the withdraw, she was slow and steady, until his head popped out of her lips with a soft smack—and then her tongue lapped around. As she worked him, his eyes were open, but the darkness surrounding them made it seem as if he’d squeezed his lids shut—and oh, man, blindness was just fine in this sitch: He had a clear image of what she had to look like on her knees before his spread legs, her muscle shirt up over her breasts, her nipples still peaked, her head going forward and back, forward and back.

Her breasts would sway with every move she made.

As his breath dragged into and out of his mouth, he had a feeling his weight was equally distributed between his injured and uninjured leg, but damned if he felt anything other than what she was doing to him. Hell, he could have been on fire, for all he knew or cared.

He
was
on fire, as a matter of fact—and the flames got hotter as Xhex folded his erection up against his lower belly and ran the flat of her tongue down him until she got to the heavy weights below his cock. One by one they were pulled into her mouth and then she went back to lollipopping his arousal.

She found a rhythm and he didn’t last long. Stroke and suck, stroke and suck, stroke—

John’s body arched and his palms smacked against the wall as he came. After it was done, he dragged her to her feet and kissed her long and hard . . . with an inkling of returning the favor on her—

Xhex nicked his lower lip on purpose and lapped at the tiny slice she’d made. “Bed. Now.”

Roger. That.

John relit the ceiling fixtures and they all but ran up to the mansion.

Funny, that bum leg didn’t bother him in the slightest.

 

 

Blay stayed out of the room Saxton had been given during and after the feeding, but he wasn’t allowed to leave the mansion to get some head space. Qhuinn’s cousin was considered, under the Old Laws, a male guest of his within the house of the First Family, and as such, protocol demanded that he remain on the premises.