He waited for a response. He didn’t get one.
Fuming, he stomped into the living room, flopped onto the couch, and petted Hellina. She couldn’t speak, so she didn’t anger him. She even managed to calm him somewhat as she licked him, that adoration like a living thing in her gaze. If everyone he turned acted this way, he would turn Ava before the sun set. She’d love him too much to be pissed.
At some point, he heard her trudge out of the bathroom, putter around the bedroom, and dress, but she never came to find him. That was for the best. Devyn’s deliveries began arriving, and McKell compelled the deliverers to stand still and allow Hellina to drink her fill. After the fourth feeding, the dog fell asleep on the floor.
McKell decided he was calm enough to deal with Ava now. Well, as calm as he could get without spanking her. Spanking. Yes. That was acceptable. He grabbed the whip he’d brought with him during his first visit—someone had placed it on the coffee table—and stormed into the bedroom with every intention of tying her up before throwing her over his knees. She sat at the edge of the bed, her siren’s body wrapped only in a fluffy white towel. Rather than grabbing her, he studied her.
Her shoulders were hunched, her hair was brushed to a coiled shine, and all of her cuts and bruises were nearly gone. Her skin was once again a perfect sun-kissed peach, her pulse drumming wildly, strong. She smelled a little like Bride, flowers and mint, but underneath those new scents he still caught a hint of orchids and butterscotch.
His mouth instantly watered. All thoughts of spanking vanished, and though he wanted to jump on her, finally have her, take her, own her, her upset held him immobile. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I lost a fight,” she said, and there was a slight quiver to her voice.
That hesitation … he doubted she’d meant to mention the fight, but she had, so they would deal with that first. “You lost because you were stupid about it.”
The quiver moved to her chin. “Spare my feelings, why don’t you.”
“You know you were.” Was she about to … cry? This woman who often snarled, had stabbed him twice, tasered him once, and kissed him so intently he could have been lost forever, all without backing down?
She shrugged those dainty shoulders and looked away, to someplace he couldn’t see. “Maybe.”
“So what else is bothering you?” he asked gently.
“I just …” She swallowed. “You’re mad at me.”
And that pushed her to the brink of tears? “Yes.” Even though he despised the thought of making her cry, he wouldn’t back down in this. Her safety came before her feelings.
“So now you’re going to whip me and leave.” She stood in one fluid motion and finally, finally, he was faced with the fury he’d craved. Darks waves of it pulsed from her, wrapped around him, and squeezed tightly. He embraced every gossamer strand. “Well, guess what? That’s fine. Do it! Go! I didn’t want you here, anyway.”
Mixed with the anger, he now heard fear, and that he couldn’t welcome. Especially when the words that came with the emotion were like a knife in the heart. “I’m going to assume Bride’s blood is talking, not you. Because you know I would never mar your skin. You also know I’m here to stay.”
Just like that, the fire drained right out of her, and she gazed at him through the thick shield of her lashes, hopeful. “You’re staying?”
That sting in his heart drained, too. He’d take the hope over the anger any day. “Yes. Why would I leave? I live here now.”
“But I keep hurting you and nearly got myself killed. After you warned me about the dangers.”
“Which you will not do again. Promise me.” It was a command he wouldn’t allow her to ignore.
“I promise, and I’m sorry,” she whispered, delighting him. “But why do you care so—you need my blood.” There at the end, her voice had picked up volume and flattened. “I get it now. You’re not staying because you like me, you’re staying because you need me. Why else would you have moved in with a lowly human? Not that you’re officially moved in. I haven’t said yes to anything permanent.”
That he’d once thought the same thing—lowly human—now settled heavily on his shoulders, but he didn’t let it weigh him down and send him fleeing. The outcome of this was too important.
“You aren’t a lowly human, Ava. You’re my human. And I’m here for your blood, yes.” He wouldn’t lie about that. Couldn’t. “But I’m also here for you. Your kisses … your body …” He stalked toward her, intent in every step. “And now I’m going to have them, once and for all.”
Twenty-three
So many thoughts whirled through Ava’s mind as McKell closed the distance between them, and somehow she was able to reflect on each one in a heartbeat of time. She’d fainted during a fight. Which meant she had lost that fight. McKell had saved her as if she were a damsel in distress. Embarrassing. He had also arranged for her healing. Sweet. She’d trusted him not to turn her into a vampire, and he hadn’t. Confusing.
Why had she trusted him while she’d been at her most vulnerable? Why had he helped her when he could have struck? She’d left him behind, almost helpless. “Almost,” because McKell always found a way to save himself. And why, when she’d woken up in bed, McKell hovering over her, had she known everything was going to be okay? As if they were together irrevocably and would stay that way. As if he belonged in her life. As if he was exactly where he needed to be.
Then he’d stormed out of her room, pissed and seething. She’d taken a shower and wondered if he was packing his stuff. And she’d cried. Cried like a goddamn baby! She didn’t need him, she’d told herself. She didn’t need anyone, and never had. That’s the way it had always been, and would always be. She could even live without Noelle, if necessary, though she didn’t want to. But McKell …
Flayed her alive, left her reeling, panicked but eager. Desperate. Needy. He—
Was right in front of her now, she realized, and she was blinking up at him.
His face had healed, all hint of his burns gone. His nostrils were flared as he sucked in a torrent of air. His color was high, his usually violet eyes flecked with so much emerald they were like flashing “go” signs that reached her soul.
She didn’t want him to stay just because he needed her blood. She wanted him to want her. Because he liked her. Her smile, her laugh, her sense of humor. Her crudeness, coarseness, everything. All the good, plus the bad. And yeah, she knew what a tall order that was. An order no man could probably meet.
She wasn’t easy to be around at the best of times, and during the worst, well, she sucked flaming balls of mean. Look at the way she’d snapped at him, demanding he leave. Still, she wanted his eternal admiration.
But her most important wish? She wanted him to like her as a human. Not as a potential vampire. She wanted him to consider her good enough, just the way she was. And maybe he was on that road already.
You’re my human, he’d said, and every feminine instinct she possessed had sung a choirs of hallelujah, reminding her that he did sometimes make her feel special. But as always, doubt intruded. How long would he feel that way? Eventually everyone found fault with who she really was.
“Ava,” McKell rasped.
She licked her lips. He was here, and he was lusting after her. For the moment, that was enough. Because she couldn’t send him away again. She just didn’t have the strength.
“I’m going to have you, woman. If you resist, I’ll tie you up. I swear I will.” He lifted the whip threateningly.
“No need to tie me up.”
His pupils expanded, but he didn’t yet move in for the kill. “For us to be together, and be able to tell everyone about it, I must aid AIR?” His warm breath trekked over her skin, teasing her.
Why wasn’t he touching her? Just then, she didn’t care if the entire world knew. Just then, he was hers. Tomorrow—today? In her sick, weak haze, she’d lost track of time—she would take him to AIR headquarters, head held high. People could think what they wanted, and for once, the thought of her peers calling her trash didn’t bother her.
“Ava,” he prompted again. He bound one of her wrists in a loop he’d created in the leather. A warning. Then he traced a knuckle over her cheekbone, gentle, tender, and she quivered.
Finally. Touching. “McKell. I—I don’t care if you aid AIR. That has no bearing on this.” Shocking, even to her. “Only thing I ask is that you don’t turn me.”
He gave a tug, and the leather tightened on her. “Why?”
“Because I have to be good enough, just as I am.”
“You are.”
Fear once more reared its head. For how long? She had to make him understand what his claims of superiority did to her. “How would you like it if I insisted you become human?”
He blanched. “I wouldn’t.”
Just as she’d thought. “It hurts to be considered inferior.”
“I never want to hurt you.” His voice was a blade jerked from its sheath. “I’m sorry that I did. But I am going to have you, Ava. You’re not going to push me away. Not this time.”
She released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “Well, okay. I’m glad that’s still on the table.”
His gaze flicked to the bed behind her, then moved back to her face. Heat pulsed from him. “A table? Yes, I can take you on a table.”
Darling man. “No. I mean, I do want to have sex with you.”
A dark brow arched. “Is the table an option or not?”
Part of her wanted to laugh, but all of her trembled with anticipation. “Does it matter?”
He crowded her, easing her back until her knees hit the edge of the mattress. He claimed her other wrist, wrapped the leather around it, too, forcing her to arch her back, her breasts rubbing his chest. Took all of her strength, but she managed to remain upright. Leaning, but upright.
“I’ll take you however I can get you,” he whispered roughly.
The words, his voice, the need in his eyes, like electrical currents raging through her. “Then let me go and I’ll get rid of the towel.”
Like a rubber band being snapped, he yanked his body into a straight line, increasing the murmur of air between them. He unwound the whip and tossed the coiled length to the floor.
With shaky hands, she tugged at the towel. The material fell in a pool at her feet.
A bead of sweat formed on his brow. But he reacted to her nakedness in no other way.
“Mc—McKell?” Uncertainty intruded.
He kept his gaze on her face, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Before we begin, and if I look down, I’ll begin, let’s be clear on what I want to do, as sex and fucking aren’t apt descriptions. I’m going to have you, every inch of you. With my mouth, my hands, my cock. I’m going to drink from you, straight from your neck, perhaps even your thigh. When I’m done, there’ll be no part of you I haven’t touched.”
A cool breeze enveloped her, but she suddenly didn’t care. She liked the goose bumps that formed. They were like a road map to every location she wanted his tongue. In other words, everywhere.
“Ava. Your response. Now.”
“Promises, promises,” she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She jerked him down for a kiss.
He didn’t hesitate. Their lips met, and their tongues instantly tangled together. His body aligned with hers, rigid determination against melting softness, and her entire world spun out of control. She held McKell tighter, her only anchor in that sensual storm.
He tasted like butterscotch and wicked sex, filling her mouth, sliding down her throat. Overwhelming her, branding her. It was as if she hadn’t been sad and depressed a short while ago. As if she’d been sensitized and hungry for days, years, and had only now found sustenance.
Her legs shook uncontrollably, and she barely stopped herself from climbing him. The orgasm he’d given her earlier should have left her sated, but as McKell continued to feed her kiss after drugging kiss, fire spread through her, increasing the hunger pains, heating her up, demanding another.
She might never get enough of this man.
And that thought should have scared her enough to send her running and screaming from the room. But one of his hands snaked around her waist and forced her deeper into the hard line of his body, that wall of strength and fire, and the thought of running was massacred. Brutally. Wonderfully. The thought of screaming, however …
More. She needed more. All. All that he’d promised. His other hand kneaded her breast frantically, rolling her nipple, pinching, and she gasped, strong tendrils of pleasure shooting through her.
“Clothes,” she rasped, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Skin-to-skin. Now.
“Yes,” he replied, biting at her lip. “I have them.”
“Take them off.”
Both of his hands settled on her waist. A second later, she was soaring through the air. There was no time to react, no time to wonder what was happening. The next time she blinked, she was lying on top of the mattress, and he was at the foot of the bed, stripping.
The separation allowed her to catch her breath. Catching her breath allowed the fever in her veins to simmer.
She watched as he ripped his shirt over his head, revealing rope after rope of muscle, the bone necklace clinking as it settled on his chest. The scar she’d admired the night they met, the one bracketed between his pecs, had her mouth watering.
“How’d you get the scar?” she asked, certain he picked up on her desire to lick it.
