Shiiiiit. His lower abdomen was slick from other orgasms, and yet he seemed starved for release.
Fevered eyes met hers as his hand stilled. Go, he mouthed. Please…
She quickly stepped inside and shut the door. This was not something anyone else needed to see.
Please! he demanded.
Please, indeed, she thought to herself, her own body responding, her own blood starting to pump.
Stepping over the crumpled discards of what he’d been wearing in the theater district, she could think only about how much she had missed the carnal side of him. It was as if she had been shut down during these long months—and yeah, it would have been far better for her to walk out, let him deal with his rock-and-a-hard-place by his lonesome, and reconvene later.
But, God, she had missed being his female.
I can’t stop, he mouthed. Autumn in her needing—got too close.
Ah. That explained it. Except… “Is my mother okay?”
At Jane’s, and yes.
God, that poor female. To have to suffer through that again after all she’d been through. But at least Jane would ease the suffering—assuming Tohr didn’t.…
Right, she was so not getting close to that one.
Xhex, you have… to go.…
“What if I don’t want to.”
At that, his body undulated wildly, sure as if she were already touching him, and he orgasmed hard, his grip slipping up and down as he came all over the muscled expanse of his lower belly.
Well, wasn’t that a very well-spoken answer: He wanted her, too.
Xhex stepped up to the edge of the bed and reached out, brushing his churning thigh with her fingertips. The light contact was enough to keep his release going, his hips thrusting up, his sex kicking, his warrior body contracting as the pleasure rocked through him.
Bending down, she shoved his pumping hand aside and captured him with her mouth, sucking him off, finishing him the right way as he thrashed in the sheets. And as soon as he was done, at least with that particular release, he stilled for only a nanosecond before sitting up and reaching for her.
She went to him with ease, kissing him as he pulled her on top of his body. His hands, those big, familiar hands, roamed everywhere… until they settled on her ass, and jacked her upward so he could nestle his face into her breasts—
With a quick slash of his fangs, he bit through her muscle shirt, and latched onto her nipple, sucking, and licking as she helped him out, pulling her jacket off, ditching her weapons, and—
John flipped her over onto her back and snarled soundlessly at her leathers.
Things didn’t go well for them—which, considering how tough cowhide was, said something about all the get-naked that was happening. At least he knew better than to mess with her cilices, though.
As soon as they were in position, he pushed into her with a jab, and the sting of the stretch was enough to throw her right into a bone-bending orgasm. He followed, joining her, their bodies working each other while she cried out.
And still he kept riding her, the relentless pounding giving her more of exactly what she needed.
Baring her fangs, she waited until he paused for a moment—then she struck. Biting him hard, she shoved him over onto his back, forcing him flat on the mattress so she could straddle him. And as she held him down by the shoulders and drew against his throat, she resumed the fucking, her thighs lifting her up and pushing her down, working his erection.
John’s surrender to her was complete. His arms stayed to the sides, his strength ceded to her, his body hers to use until she drained him dry up at his neck and down at his hips.
As she took him, his eyes stayed locked on her face, the love shining out of them so great, they were a pair of blue suns raining warmth all over her.
How in the world could she ever live without him…
Releasing his throat temporarily, she rode out the current orgasm, burying her face into his shoulder as things got so violent she couldn’t keep contact with his throat. But she knew his vein was hers for the taking, as soon as it was over…
Man, life was complicated. But the truth was simple.
He was her home.
He was where she belonged.
Rolling to the side, she encouraged him to follow her, and he came with her as easy as water, as hot as fire. It was his turn to feed… and given the way his eyes zeroed in on her jugular, he agreed with her.
“Let me seal you first,” she said as she went for her puncture marks.
He took her wrist and held her back, shaking his head. No—I want to bleed for you.
Xhex closed her eyes, her throat tightening.
It was hard to say where this was going to lead them, because she never would have predicted their split in the first place. But it was so damned good to be home… even if this was just a short stay.
Hours passed, the night waning and dawn arriving; and then the sun rose from the lip of the horizon, ascending to its noonday heights, washing the snow-covered mountain with light.
Autumn was unaware of any of this—and that would have been true whether she was down in the clinic or up at the mansion… or out in the snow.
In fact, she might as well have been directly in the sunshine.
She was on fire.
The blazing heat in her womb reminded her of the birthing of Xhexania, the agony rising to heights that made her wonder if death wasn’t coming for her, before easing off just enough so she could catch her breath and prepare for the next peak. And as with labor, the cycling persisted, the moments of relenting becoming farther and farther apart until the pain of the need filled out the contours of her body and took over all movement, all breath, all thought.
It had not been like this before. Back when she’d been with that symphath, the needing hadn’t been half this strong.…
Or half this long…
After however many hours of torture, she had no more tears left, no more sobs, not even any twitches. She just lay in stillness, barely breathing, her heartbeat sluggish, her eyes closed as her body was yet assaulted internally.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the tipping point came upon her, but gradually the throbbing between her legs and the burning in her pelvis drifted away, the rigors of the needing replaced with an abiding soreness in her joints and her muscles from all the straining she’d done.
When she could finally raise her head, her neck cracked loudly, and she groaned as her face hit a wall of some sort. Frowning, she tried to orient herself… oh, indeed, she was at the foot of the bed, pressed up against the short board at its end.
She laid her head back down for a while. With the boiling heat easing to a mere simmer, she began to feel cold, and she fumbled around for a sheet, or a blanket, or a cover of any sort. There was nothing—all was on the floor: She was naked on a bare mattress—clearly she’d ripped off even the fitted sheet.
Summoning what little energy she had, she attempted to push her torso up and lift her head. She made little progress. It was as if there was glue holding her down…
Eventually, she rose up.
The trip to the bathroom was as arduous and treacherous as a hike up a mountainside, but lo, the joy with which she beheld the shower and turned it on.
As temperate water fell generously from the spout anchored upon the wall, she sat down on the tile beneath it, tucking her heels up against her bottom, hugging herself around her knees. As she laid her head to the side, the gentle spray washed away the salt of her tears and her sweat.
The shivers turned violent shortly thereafter.
“Autumn?” came Doc Jane’s voice from the room beyond.