I stayed on my hands and knees, thinking this was not weird, and not because there were men who got off on this kind of shit.
No, because the slow, sweet, gentle, reverential way Abel was doing it meant it was meaningful, meant it was profound, meant it was important in a way I didn’t get, maybe he didn’t get, but we felt it all the same.
Both of us.
His lips at the small of my back, he murmured, “Thank you, bao bei.”
I had no idea what bao bei meant, I just knew it sounded very sweet.
“You’re welcome,” I whispered back.
Then I was not on my hands and knees but on my back, head to the pillows, Abel on me between my legs, yanking the covers up over us.
He was naked, which surprised me, but I guess with inhuman speed that meant a man could undress in the blink of an eye.
Good to know.
I focused on his face just as he finished with the covers and his hand came to the side of mine, middle finger trailing my hairline, his eyes watching it.
“You okay now?” I asked, then stilled completely, even my heart and breath, when his two-colored eyes looked into mine.
And I didn’t still because I saw in the light blue one dark brown spikes gliding out from the iris, obliterating the blue, making them both a rich, warm chocolate, and that was weird and wonderful.
No, I did it because everything was in his eyes. The answer to the meaning of life. The truth about whether or not love was real (it was, very much so). Inalienable proof that nothing was more important than family. The knowledge that he would die for me. The understanding that he would kill for me (though, I already knew that).
Everything.
Before, I’d thought his eyes were enthralling.
Looking at them right then, I knew I could lose myself in them.
For eternity.
“Yeah, Lilah, I’m okay now,” he whispered.
Oh man.
“Though, I’m gonna take this opportunity to be a lot more okay, doing it repeatedly from now until about two o’clock this afternoon,” he went on.
I stopped being moved by what I saw in his eyes when they lit with humor.
I smiled before muttering “Give a werewolf vampire an inch, he takes a mile.”
He grinned at me, and if he hadn’t showed all his cards two seconds before, making what I gave him worth it (beyond the amazing orgasm he gave me), that would have done it.
His hand slid down to my neck and I sensed it moving there, but I didn’t feel it.
“This okay?” he asked.
Shit, I forgot he fed from me.
But I didn’t forget it was awesome.
“Yeah, do I…I mean, am I bleeding?”
He looked from my neck to me. “No, Lilah. Your wounds are already closed. By the time your dad gets here, they’ll be gone.”
I blinked. “What?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Something else I can do. Odd, but useful.”
“Whoa,” I breathed, then I felt my eyes get big and I cried, “How cool!”
He looked into my eyes for some time, seeming strangely surprised and somewhat puzzled, before he replied in a way it sounded like he didn’t quite mean his words, “Yeah. Cool.”
I decided not to get into his reaction and instead noted, “Your eyes have both turned brown.”
“Yeah,” he replied.
“What is that?” I asked.
He dipped close and slid his temple along mine like he did when he’d first found me, like he did to Jian-Li the day before.
My belly melted and he whispered in my ear, “Magic.”
He was full of it, but still, his answer was sweet so I let him have it.
He lifted away and was drawing random patterns on my neck that I could (unfortunately) only vaguely feel, seeming lost in thought, his eyes drifting from my neck to my lips, my jaw, my hair, so I took that opportunity to lift my hand in order to start tracing the wicked, but hot, scar on his face.
Before I even touched him, he jerked his head back and focused on me, his fingers at my neck stopping, and the moment was broken.
“Sorry,” I murmured, feeling like an idiot, looking to his shoulder and dropping my hand.
“Happened a long time ago, Lilah,” he said gently. “And still do not like shit near my face.”
That made sense.
I still felt bereft. Like we’d shared something, come to an understanding, moved to a different level, and he’d taken it all away.
Suddenly I wanted him off me and I wanted to shower. Get some food. Go upstairs and be with Jian-Li and the boys, just so they could act as a buffer.
“I don’t scar.”
My gaze slid to his face when he said this.
“What?”
He dipped closer and his voice dipped lower. “I don’t scar, pussycat.”
“Okay,” I whispered, knowing what pussycat meant and liking that he called me that.
“Don’t scar, heal fast,” he carried on. “Was out at a bar.” He got even closer, putting his nose alongside mine, his eyes staring into mine. “To find a meal,” he said super-quiet.
I rolled my eyes, and when I rolled them back, his were grinning and he pulled a bit away.
“And some bitch roofied me.”
I stared.
He read my stare and said, “Yeah. Totally freaked me. Drugs don’t do shit for me, not that I need them. Don’t get headaches, muscle pain, colds, shit like that. But I haven’t lived a choirboy’s life. Tried some shit. Did nothin’ for me. Whatever she gave me fucked me up.”
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“Felt it,” he went on. “Stumbled outta the place. In the parking lot, she was on me. Took me to my back.” He shook his head, his expression turning preoccupied. “Saw her straddling me, the crazy-as-fuck look in her eyes, the weird-ass knife she had. Also saw and felt her carve into me. Couldn’t move. Was totally at her mercy.”