Page 130 of Black Bird

His hand splayed across her lower back, and he slowly moved himself inside her, finding his bite on her neck again and chuckling through his nose when she tightened around him. She grabbed a fistful of his hair.

Why, Sarah Lenore St. James … you didn’t really think I’d miss an opportunity to make you weep, did you?

His cock twitched and swelled, growing harder and filling her up again. Sarah’s heart sped up when his tongue danced over her scar. It was all she could do to swallow the deep moan that wanted to break itself free.

You sick fuck. You wanna make me cry? Again?

He sucked the tender skin of her neck into his mouth and moved both hands down her ass, spreading her wide open and pushing himself in and out of her with a little more vigor. His fingertips slightly dipped into where his cock was already stretching her open to the point of the most euphoric pain. Sarah felt herself dripping down every inch of it.

Fuck yes … from right here.

The combination of what he’d left inside her, the raw edge in his silent voice, and the words that never left his actual mouth ran parallel with what the feel of his tongue did to that mark and something in her snapped. That tiny tether to her self-control slipped and she tightened her hold on his hair until he groaned. She pressed her chest against his and let him hold her open while she met every thrust of his hips into her. Faster. Harder. She felt his teeth on her neck and his breathing hitched like it was taking everything in him not to sink them down into her flesh.

“Do it,” she rasped aloud, slightly moaning the words. His fingers grasped the inside of her spread legs so hard she nearly buckled. “Fucking do it, Athan.” A rattled whisper and a desperate gasp for air. His teeth began to close on her skin and his cock threatened to split her in two with every punishing stroke. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why she suddenly wanted it so bad. Wanted to bleed into his mouth … into his dark soul. Something inside told her that it wouldn’t be like last time. He wouldn’t see red with bloodlust. She felt that aching tug of their bond and needed more—wanted more.

Please…

She could feel each sharp point of his fangs barely pinching her and he trembled all over with restraint. He made a guttural noise and tore his mouth away from her before reaching a hand up her back and flawlessly flipping her over without missing a single thrust. Sarah didn’t even have time to be disappointed that he hadn’t done it. Just this—finally forfeiting that long battle between them was more than enough. And the way he looked at her when he pinned her wrists above her head … he was purely feral and not at all human. Sarah could barely remember her own name, let alone any reason she’d kept him at bay when he brutally slammed himself into her. His eyes were darker than death itself, fixing on hers while he towered between her legs and covered her mouth a second time.

All the old vampire stories people told were always the same. Dark … bloody. They lived in castles and slept in coffins. She knew now that half of that was untrue and mostly outdated, or farfetched. Vampires were mostly romanticized nowadays. Over centuries of what humans thought were fictional tales, they became something more of sexual fantasy … and now she knew why. Vampires spent a great deal of their time fucking. Even feeding, when they weren’t as starved for it as Athan had been the night he’d attacked her, was portrayed as more of a tryst than a meal. And here she was with a vampire that she was bound to—in love with—who was nearly three centuries old and spent part of his life pleasing women before becoming a creaturedesignedto fuck … and he was very,verygood at it. Maybe he had always been this way where it involved her and had no choice but to keep it hidden until she knew the truth … but he was like a rabid dog chasing after his kill. A far cry from the quiet, broody detective that she’d come to know—and she couldn’t get enough of him.

His tattooed fingers gripped her mouth, his other hand binding her wrists and Sarah fought so badly against the scream she wanted to let loose while he mercilessly drove into her. All those moments she’d almost felt ashamed of how she spooked her former lovers … she suddenly found herself comforted by his lack of self-control and all the filthy ways they’d enjoy each other. Her match in every way.

He wasn’t sure what changed her mind so soon, and right now he couldn’t give afuckless, while he plowed himself in and out of her perfect body. Every time he’d been worried about losing that hold on his self-control before she’d known what he was … she was begging him to let go of it now. She wanted him to feed on her. Asked him to. He almost gave into her pleas. It was all he could think about while he held onto that sensuous mouth and felt the strain of her trying not to cry out under his fingers. Sarah’s back bowed up; her middle pressed against him so hard he thought her spine would snap. Her legs shook on either side of him, and her tits jerked across her chest with every demanding jolt of his thrusts. She was taking every inch of him like she could still beg him for more, and he gave it to her—realizing then that it was well beyond what any human should be able to endure. For a moment, he wondered exactly what his bite had truly done to her body … to her unique blood.

Athan looked over every inch of her through his thirsty eyes and couldn’t recall ever seeing something so fucking beautiful in his very long, very empty life. What she’d just done for him …tohim … no one had ever cared enough to give him that. The image of her spread wide over him and that succulent cunt swallowing him whole was enough to push him close to the edge again.She felt so fucking good.And she had dominated him with the sort of violence about her that made his blood sing. The blood he shared with her … that he was dying to taste again. They’d have to talk about it later. About what it could do to her, and if she’d even be willing to remain human if he had no other choice after biting her again than to sire her. That was a war within him that would be no easy battle.

Sarah’s legs wrapped around him, and every thought eddied out of his mind. Those smooth legs felt like ice on his heated skin, and he fucked her harder, and so much deeper at the angle she’d just allowed him. He growled under his breath and his fangs nearly broke through the skin of his lip when he felt her tighten and tremble around his cock. She had a look in her eyes like she’d held on as long as she was able and the defenseless surrender of it took him right along with her. He released her mouth, replacing it with his own, and gripping her hip with a violent thrust as he came inside her again. She craned her neck back and Athan swallowed the long moan he’d earned from her while she convulsed around him. Maybe it was only because it was her … and he had wanted her so badly for this long. Maybe it was their bond, he wasn’t sure. But as many times as he’d made a woman climax, it had never felt as divine as how she felt right now.

Neither of them could breathe. Neither one had a single thing to say when it was over. He’d released her wrists and that damned stare thatalways took them by surprise reeled them in while they panted like animals. Sarah’s face was flushed with satisfaction and the wind outside the cabin howled. Not a single sound came from Rhaena’s bedroom, and he hoped for their sake, this storm had drowned out enough of what they’d tried hard to conceal on this living room floor. If not, he’d be absolutely enraged that he didn’t let her blow his eardrums out while he made her scream his name. There’d be time for that … maybe when they finally had a moment alone and weren’t forced with the boundaries of being semi-polite or considerate while being stuck in a cabin with two other people.

Lay with me …

Sarah’s voice in his mind was as obliterated as the silken heaven between her legs that he was in no hurry to part with. He kept himself buried inside her and turned them on their sides to face each other against the incline of the stacked couch cushions. Her fingertip traced the couple of small tattoos he had on his face … his neck. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Did I cry hard enough for you?” she whispered, smiling. He smiled back at first, but snorted into a chuckle that she responded in kind with.

He kept his voice in a quiet purr and moved her hair over her shoulder, exposing that creamy, pale body. “I should have offered a sleeve, or a tissue. How very un-gentlemanly of me.”

“Yeah, you’re quite the dick.” She snickered, dropping her eyes down between them at the seeping mess they were still thoroughly enjoying. “Such …” Sarah raised her thigh and coiled her leg around the back of his. “An asshole,” she finished, pressing her hips closer. Athan felt his cock twitch.

His arm slid around her back, and he brought his other hand to her side. “I hate seeing you so upset.” She rested her hand on the side of his face, and he leaned in closer, realizing she had no intention of actually laying here. “I could offer you something to cry on now.”

“Hmm …” Sarah hummed, reaching up into his hair with a smoldering gleam in her eyes. “Isn’t that chivalrous.” She ground herself against him and he groaned, smirking at her.

“You don’t wanna rest?” he breathed against her mouth as he met her pace. He already knew the answer when her sharp breaths started coming faster, and the grip she had in his hair grew tighter.

“No, I’m too depressed,” she huffed, pressing up against him and gliding her tongue along his lip. “I think I need to cry a little more.”

“Ah.” Athan grinned, moving faster. “You let it out then, love.” He kissed her and was happy to continue existing inside her for the rest of the night if she’d let him. They’d quite literally ride out the storm until morning. It’d be a lie if he said he wasn’t fascinated by her drive. Maybe, Sarah St. James was less human than he thought.

CHAPTER 22

GIVING THANKS

The cold of the small bedroom did nothing to stifle her sweat. Nor did it help to throw her quilt off and come out of the soaked t-shirt she’d slept in. Wren didn’t budge when Rhaena eased off the bed and vigorously fanned herself, pacing across the bedroom floor. The sun started to peek through the old curtains on her window, unusually bright as she shoved them aside and squinted her eyes. At least a good three or four inches of snow had fallen through the night. The first of the year. Which meant she won the bet she’d made with Jenkins about it holding off until December. She missed him. Wondered how many times he may have tried to reach her while her phone sat dismantled in Athan’s apartment back home.

Her throat felt bone-dry and scratchy. Rhaena padded into the small bathroom and ran the water in the faucet she’d left dripping last night, happy to know that she had been right in doing so. The iciness of the splashing on her face was a subtle relief, but still not enough. Her body continued to sweat bullets, and her knees felt weak. She stripped down and stepped into the small tub, jerking the curtain around it, and running the shower on its coldest setting. She didn’t even flinch at the rush that racked her body at the temperature. When she felt herself finally come to a place of calm, she stepped out and dried off, quietly changing into something loose and breathable and cracking the door open to raid the kitchen for the gallons of water she’d stashed in the back pantry.

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