Rolling over, Abby’s hand fell on the empty place where Brian had been only hours before. The bed was still warm, the pillow indented where his head had been. She froze as she felt eyes boring into her back. A chill crept up her spine and the hair on her nape rose as the predatory nature of that stare caused her survival instincts to kick in.
Flipping over, her eyes searched the shadows enshrouding the room. What little light there was in the room glistened off Brian’s eyes, making their color appear even icier in the dark. There was a ruthless air to him as he watched her; it was so different from the relaxed and contented man she’d fallen asleep next to earlier.
She didn’t speak, barely breathed, as he lifted a glass of blood to his mouth. His eyes never left hers over the rim of the goblet as he drank deeply. Something about him caused her heart to thunder in her chest. She’d seen him beat someone to death, but she’d never seen him look this savage before, and she didn’t know what had caused it.
“Is everything okay?” she inquired as she tugged the sheet against her chest and sat up in the bed. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his elegant fingers drummed on the surface of the table as he took another sip of blood. “Brian, what is it? Has Ronan changed his mind about something?”
“No.”
The single word was clipped out at her. She scrambled to try and understand what could have happened between the time she’d fallen asleep in his arms and now. “Did you have a nightmare?”
That muscle ticked more fiercely in his jaw and his eyes bled to red as he turned his gaze to the wall. Abby realized she’d hit the nail on the head. He’d told her once before he still dreamed of his family, of the night they’d been slaughtered, but she’d never seen him after one of those dreams. He looked every inch the lethal vampire he was.
She had no idea how to handle him, but she instinctively knew he needed her. A murderous air surrounded him when she released the sheet and scooted to the edge of the bed. His eyes followed her and flared redder when they latched onto her breasts. Rising to her feet, she’d barely made it three feet before he was across the room and standing before her.
She gasped at the speed with which he’d moved before his hands fell to her waist and his fingers bit into her flesh. He would never harm her, but she had to fight the instinctive urge to pull away from the savagery he radiated.
“Mine,” he growled.
“Yes,” she whispered and laid her hand against his cheek as she tried to comfort him. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words did nothing to relax him as he released her and stalked across the room toward the door. For a second, she thought he was going to fling the door open and storm out naked, but he spun and came back toward her. Through the bond connecting them, she could feel the swinging pendulum of his emotions. The urge to kill, to rend something apart with his bare hands, simmered within him, as did his mounting lust for her and his need to forget.
Her gaze was drawn downward as he hardened with every step he took. Despite her uncertainty, her mouth watered, and her breasts tingled with her rising desire. That part of his body was magnificent as it pulsed beneath her gaze and grew longer and thicker to stand straight out from his body.
She tore her gaze away from his erection when he stopped ten feet away from her and walked over to sit in the chair again. “Brian—”
“Come here,” he commanded.
At any other time, such a command would have had her hackles up, but now she felt compelled to go to him. He needed her in a way she’d never seen before, and she couldn’t refuse him if there was something she could to do to ease that need. She walked slowly toward where he sat in the chair with his long legs spread out before him and his shaft standing proudly in the air. The ravenous way he watched her every step had her aroused and aching before she reached him.
“No one will take you from me,” he murmured.
“No one,” she vowed, though he’d been saying the words more to himself than he’d been saying them to her.
The haunted air surrounding him when he lifted his hand and scrubbed at his face tore at her heart. To relive the death of his loved ones repeatedly like this was something she couldn’t imagine. His hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist, and he tugged her forward another step so she stood between his spread thighs.
Brian couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. The fading images of the nightmare haunted him, but all he wanted was to lose himself in her. He couldn’t shake the certainty he would lose her too, that she would be torn away from him.
Had he actually been contemplating children with her earlier? It couldn’t happen. The nightmare tonight had been a reminder of that. Vivian hadn’t been in it this time; it had only been Beatrice’s hand lying so trustingly in his as the life slipped from her eyes. He couldn’t risk that loss with Abby; he’d never allow her to know such anguish. There could never be children, but his need for her now was bordering on the edge of insanity.
“You should run from me,” he told her.
“Never,” she whispered.
“I made a mistake tonight. I never should have spilled in you, but you make me come completely undone when I’m with you. I won’t let it happen again.” He hated the sadness that lit her eyes at his words, but it couldn’t be helped. “What I want to do to you now should be done to no woman. Will you run from me now?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
He didn’t know if he could let her go if she tried. Would he hunt her through these halls until he was inside of her again and seeking the escape from his existence only she could bring to him as he lost himself within her once more? If she tried to run, he was greatly afraid he would.
Sorrow twisted like a blade in her heart at his words. He was raw right now with the reopened wounds of his loss. If she turned from him, he would fall deeper into his grief, and she couldn’t leave him to that. He’d hurt her, but it was because the suffering that had been inflicted on him all those years ago was far deeper than anything she could ever imagine or had ever endured in her life.
“No. I will never run from you. Never,” she promised.
He tugged her a step closer until her hands rested on his chest. “Will you get on your knees for me, Abigail?”
Abby drew her bottom lip into her mouth as she considered his words. “I’ve never… I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
She swallowed nervously as the wetness between her legs grew. How badly she wanted to know the taste of him, to experience him in such a way, but could she do it? Her gaze slid to that temptingly rigid part of him. Without realizing it, she licked her lips as a bead of moisture formed on the head of him.
His hands dug into the flesh of her waist when her tongue flicked over her lips and a rapacious gleam lit her eyes. He fought the impulse to guide her downward, but no matter how badly he longed for this, no matter how out of control he felt right now, he’d never force her to do something she didn’t like.
Stepping a little back from him, she lowered herself to her knees before him. Her breasts brushed against his shaft as she settled herself between them. The feel of her hardened nipples against his flesh caused him to suck in a breath, and his cock jumped in anticipation.
“Wrap your hand around it,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Yes,” he breathed when her small hand enclosed around his thickness. “Now—”
His breath hissed in as her tongue slid out to lick over his head before he could instruct her further. His body bucked at the sensation of her heated, wet tongue working over his shaft, tasting him. He should have known she’d require no instruction; his Abby was an extremely fast learner and just as eager to please him as he was to please her.
Abby shivered at the salty taste of him on her tongue. His hands gripped the bottom of his chair as his fevered eyes watched her every movement. She realized she held him in the palm of her hand in more ways than one. This massive, formidable man was hers, and he was watching her with rapt attention.
Leaning over further, she took him deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him as she worked her mouth over him. When he groaned and bits of chair broke away beneath his hands, she knew he enjoyed it. Fascinated by his reaction to her, the taste of him, and the growing feeling of power over having such a man as this completely out of control for her, made her bolder as she moved over him.
He rested his hand on the back of her head; he didn’t push her down on him, but simply held her as she worked up and down his shaft. The blood pulsed more hotly through it, and he could feel his semen rising to the top, desperate for release, but he didn’t want this to stop, ever. His hips surged up and down with her movements. He was completely out of control, lost to the thrill of her heated mouth.
“Look at me,” he commanded gruffly. Her emerald eyes flew open and up to his. His blood thundered through him as she kept hold of his gaze while her hand and mouth drove him to madness.
He leaned forward and grabbed her waist. A mewl of disappointment escaped her when he lifted her up and away from him. It died away when he lowered her into his lap and guided himself into her. Abby nearly screamed as he stretched and filled her. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he thrust himself up and into her.
“You were enjoying that,” he murmured against her ear as he lifted her and slid her back down again.
“Yes!”
His hand entangled in her hair, and he tugged it back to expose her neck. Striking with the speed of lightening, his fangs sank into her vein. A scream tore from her as she rode him with reckless abandon while he pumped eagerly in and out of her. Releasing his hold on her throat, he licked the blood from her pale flesh as her sheath clenched around him and her body shook with the force of the orgasm rocking through her.
So close, he was so close…
With a guttural shout, he somehow managed to tear himself free from her before he came. Wave after wave of semen spilled between their bodies as he clung desperately to her slender back. Despite the magnitude of his release and the calming balm her body was to his soul, a sense of incompletion filled him at not having lost himself completely within her.
It’s for the best, for both of you, he told himself, but when he was holding her like this, he couldn’t be so sure it was for the best. Earlier he’d allowed himself to consider having children again; now he would do anything he could to keep her with him and to shelter her from knowing what it was like to lose a child.
Abby turned her head on his shoulder to stare at the wall. Her body continued to be wracked by tremors of pleasure but a hollowness filled the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want children now, she was too young, but she couldn’t shake the sense of loss his pulling out had left in her. Even after everything they’d experienced tonight, it felt as if he were pulling away from her in more ways than one.
Rising, he carried her into the bathroom and turned the shower on. He kept her in his arms as he stepped beneath the spray. His expression remained almost clinical as he washed her body off, but a muscle jumped in his jaw and his shaft swelled between them. Despite the heat of the water washing over her, Abby shivered.
When he was done, he wrapped her in a towel and returned her to the bed. Abby watched as he pulled the towels away and climbed into the bed beside her.
Brian drew her closer to him and rested her mouth against his throat. “You must feed.”
Abby tried to resist, but she craved the connection between them. Dropping her head to the hollow of his throat, she licked the water from his flesh before she bit deep. The heady flow of his blood filled her mouth. Through the bond connecting them, his confusion, anguish, and need beat against her. The horror and unspeakable loss of the night he’d become a vampire slipped through the bond before he shut it off, but she’d seen enough to feel the magnitude of his grief as if it were her own.
Tears welled in her eyes, and her fingers slid into his hair as she held him closer, needing to comfort him. She sensed the way she eased him, the desperation he had for her. Before her, he would have gone out to kill after the nightmare; now he stayed because his need to keep her safe was stronger than his impulse to destroy.
She kept her hurt over his pulling out of her locked away from him, just as she knew he kept pieces of himself locked away from her.