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She walked over and had to cover her mouth with her hand. "Dear Virgin in the Fade..."
One of his eyes was swollen and going black and blue again, and there was a cut on the bridge of his nose, which explained the blood. And he smelled like fresh Scotch.
From the doorway, Vishous's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "You should really come back tomorrow. He's going to be pissed as hell that you saw him like this."
"Exactly who did this to him? And so help me God, if you say it was just a quick fight, I'm going to scream."
"Like I said, he went after Rehvenge. And Rehv happens to have a lot of bodyguards."
"Those must be big males," she said numbly.
"Actually, the one who nailed him was a female."
"A female?" Oh, why the hell did the particulars matter. "Can you bring me a couple of towels and some hot soapy water?" She went to Butch's feet and pulled off his shoes. "I want to wash him."
After V walked down the hall, she stripped Butch down to his boxers then sat beside him. The heavy gold cross that lay on his chest was a surprise. In the earlier frenzy up in the sitting room, she hadn't paid much attention to the thing, but now she wondered where he'd gotten it.
She looked farther down, to the black scar on his belly. Which seemed no better, no worse.
When V showed up with a bowl of suds and a short stack of terry cloth, she said, "Put it all on this table where I can reach it, then leave us, please. And shut the door behind you."
There was a pause. Which made sense. You didn't order around a member of the Black Dagger Brotherhood anywhere, much less in his own house. But her nerves were shot and her heart was breaking and she really didn't care what anyone thought of her.
It was her rule number one in action.
After a silent stretch, the things were placed where she wanted them and then the door clicked shut. Taking a deep breath, she wet one of the washcloths. As she touched Butch's face with it, he winced and muttered something.
"I'm so sorry, Butch... but it's over now." She returned the washcloth to the bowl, submerging it, then squeezing the excess water out. The dripping seemed very loud. "And nothing happened other than the feeding, I swear."
She got the blood off his face then stroked his hair, the thick waves damp from the washing. In response, he stirred and turned his face into her hand, but it was obvious he was dead drunk and not coming around.
"Are you going to believe me?" she whispered.
At any rate, she had proof. When she came to him a newling, he would know no other male had -
"I can smell him on you."
She jerked back at the harsh sound of his voice.
Butch's eyes opened slowly and they seemed black, not hazel. "I can smell him all over you. Because it wasn't from the wrist."
She didn't know how to respond. Especially as he focused on her mouth and said, "I saw the marks on his throat. And your scent was all over him, too."
When Butch reached out, she flinched. But all he did was stroke her cheek with his forefinger, light as a sigh.
"How long did it take?" he asked.
She stayed silent, instinct telling her the less he knew the better.
As he took his hand back, his face was hard and weary. Emotionless. "I believe you. About the sex."
"You don't look as if you do."
"Sorry, I'm a little distracted. I'm trying to convince myself I'm okay with tonight."
She looked down at her hands. "It felt all wrong to me, too. I cried the whole time."
Butch inhaled sharply, then all the tension went out of the air between them. He sat up and put his hands on her shoulders. "Oh, God... baby, I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass - "
"No, I'm sorry that I have to - "
"Shh, it's not your fault. Marissa, this is not your fault - "
"It feels that way - "
"My deficiency, not yours." His arms, those wonderful, heavy arms, slid around her and gathered her close to his bare chest. In return, she hung on to him for dear life.
As he kissed her temple, he murmured, "Not your fault. Ever. And I wish I could handle it better, I truly do. I don't know why I'm having such a hard time with this."
She pulled back abruptly, seized by an urgency she didn't question. "Butch, lay with me. Mate with me. Now."
"Oh... Marissa... I would love to, I really would." He smoothed her hair gently. "But not like this. I'm drunk and your first time should be - "
She cut him off with her mouth, tasting the Scotch and the male in him while she pushed him down on the mattress. When she slid her hand between his legs, he groaned and hardened right in her palm.
"I need you in me," she said roughly. "If not your blood, then your sex. In me. Now."
She kissed him again and as his tongue shot into her mouth she knew she had him. And oh, he was so good. He rolled her over and swept his hand from her neck to her br**sts, then followed the path with his lips. When he got to the bodice of her gown, he stopped and his face grew hard again. With a savage movement, he gripped the silk and ripped the front of the dress clean apart. And he didn't stop at the waist. He kept going, his big hands and veined forearms working as he tore the satin right down the middle, all the way to the hem of the skirt.
"Take it off," he demanded.
She stripped the remnants from her shoulders, and when she lifted her hips, he yanked the dress out from under her, wadded it up, and pitched it across the room.
Eyes fierce, he came back at her, shoved her slip up, and spread her thighs. Looking at her over her body, his voice raw, he said, "Never wear that thing again."
As she nodded, he pushed her panties to the side and put his mouth right on her core. The orgasm he gave her was a claim staked, a mate's marking, and he made her ride it out until she was limp and shaking.
Then he tenderly eased her legs back together. Though she was the one who'd had the release, he was so much more relaxed as he prowled up her body. In a daze from what he'd done to her, she was weak and unresisting as he stripped her naked and then got up and took off his boxers.
As she looked at the size of him and realized what was coming next, fear tickled the edges of her consciousness. But she was too blissed out to care much.
He was all male animal as he got back on the bed, his sex hard and thick, ready to penetrate. She opened her legs for him, except he lay beside her, not on top of her.
Now he went slowly. He kissed her slow and sweet, his broad hand traveling to her br**sts, touching her with care. Breathless, she curled her hands on to his shoulders and felt the muscles under his warm and supple skin bunching up, as he stroked her hips, her thighs.
When he touched her between her legs, he was tender and unhurried, and it was a while before one of his fingers went inside of her. He stopped just as a strange internal tugging made her frown and move her hips back.
"Do you know what to expect?" he asked against her breast, his voice soft, low.
"Um... yes. I suppose." But they she thought of the size of his erection. How in God's name was it going to fit?
"I'll be as gentle as I can, but this... is going to hurt you. I had hoped maybe - "
"I know that's a part of it." She'd heard that there was a slight twinge involved, but then a wondrous ecstasy. "I'm ready."
He took back his hand and rolled on top of her, his body easing in between her legs.
Abruptly, everything came into sharp focus: the feel of his hot skin and the compression of his weight and the power in his muscles... and the pillow under her head and the mattress she was on and exactly how far her thighs were spread. She looked up at the ceiling. A swing of lights moved around above them as if a car had just pulled up in the courtyard.
She went tense; she couldn't help it. Even though it was Butch and she loved him, the threat of the experience, the overwhelming nature of it, swamped her. Three hundred years and it had suddenly come down to here and now.
For some stupid reason, tears welled.
"Baby, we really don't have to do this." His thumbs wiped her cheeks and his hips pulled back as if he was going to get off.
"I don't want to stop." She grabbed on to the small of his back. "No - Butch, wait. I want this. I truly do."
He closed his eyes. Then dropped his head into her neck and worked his arms so they were all the way around her. Twisting to the side, he hugged her into his hard body and they stayed like that for a long time, his weight positioned so she could breathe, his arousal a hot, branding length on her thigh. She began to wonder if he was going to do anything at all.
