"Stop deflecting." She stared at him steadily. "And if you want to pick a fight, go find some lessers."
In any other male, her hitting back like that might have guaranteed a flat-out argument, with all the attendant dramatics.
Instead, Vishous turned to her and smiled. "Listen to you."
"I'd rather you talked to me."
The sexual light that she was so familiar with, but hadn't seen in a week, boiled up in his eyes as he rolled over toward her. Then his lids lowered and he looked at her br**sts underneath the simple Hanes T-shirt she'd fallen asleep in.
She put her face in the way, but she was smiling, too. Things had been so stiff and strained between them. This felt normal. "I'm not going to be distracted."
As heat poured out of his big body in waves, her mate took his fingertip and trailed it along her shoulder. And then he opened his mouth, the white tips of his fangs making an appearance and getting even longer as he licked his lips.
Somehow, the sheet that was covering him got tugged down his ribbed abdomen. Lower. Lower still. It was his gloved hand doing the duty, and with every inch exposed, her eyes had more trouble going anywhere else. He stopped right before his massive erection was revealed, but he gave her a show: The tattoos around his groin stretched and righted themselves as his hips curled and relaxed, curled and relaxed.
"Vishous ..."
"What."
His gloved hand dipped under the black satin, and she didn't have to see where it went to be well aware he'd gripped himself: The fact that he arched back told her everything she needed to know. That and the way he bit down on his lower lip.
"Jane ..."
"What."
"Are you just going to watch, true?"
God, she remembered the first time she'd seen him like this, all laid out on a bed, erect, ready. She'd been giving him a sponge bath, and he'd read her like a book: As much as she hadn't wanted to admit it, she'd been desperate to watch him get off.
And she'd made sure he had.
Feeling heated herself, she leaned over to him, dropping her mouth so that it almost touched his. "You're still deflecting - "
In a flash, his free hand snapped up and clasped the back of her neck, trapping her. And didn't that power in him go straight down between her thighs.
"Yes. I am." His tongue came out and flicked across her lip. "But we can always talk after we're through. You know I never lie."
"I thought the line was more like ... you're never wrong."
"Well, that's true, too." A pumping growl came out of him. "And right now ... you and I need this."
That last part was said with none of the passion and all of the seriousness she needed to hear. And what do you know, he was right. The pair of them had been circling for the last seven days, stepping carefully, avoiding the land mine in the center of their relationship. Connecting like this, skin-to-skin, was going to help them get through to the words that had to be spoken.
"So what do you say?" he murmured.
"What are you waiting for?"
The laugh he let out was low and satisfied, and his forearm tightened and released as he started to stroke himself. "Pull the sheet back, Jane."
The command was husky, but clear, and it got to her. As it always did.
"Do it, Jane. Watch me."
She put her hand on his pec and drifted it downward, feeling the ribs of his chest and the hard ridges of his abdominals, hearing the hiss as he drew a sharp breath in through his teeth. Lifting the sheet, she had to swallow hard as the head of him breached the top of his fist, breaking free and offering itself with a single, crystal tear.
When she reached out for him, he snapped a hold on her wrist and held her back.
"Look at me, Jane ..." came the groan. "But don't touch."
Son of a bitch. She hated when he did this. Loved it, too.
Vishous didn't let go of his hold on her as he worked his erection with his gloved hand, his body so beautiful as it found a rhythm with the pump of his palm. Candlelight turned the whole episode into something mysterious, but then ... it was always like that with V. With him, she never knew what to expect, and not just because he was the son of a deity. He was sex on the edge all the time, hard-cornered and crafty, twisted and demanding.
And she knew that she merely got the watered-down version of him.
There were deeper caves in his underground maze, ones that she had never visited and could never go to.
"Jane," he said roughly. "Whatever you're thinking about, drop it.... Stay with me here and now and don't go there."
She closed her eyes. She'd known what she was mating and what she loved. Back when she'd committed to him for eternity, she'd been well aware of the men and the women and the way he'd had them. She'd just never have guessed that that past would come between them - "
I wasn't with anyone else." His voice was strong and sure. "That night. I swear to it."
Her lids lifted. He'd stopped working himself out and was lying still.
Abruptly, the sight of him was obscured by tears. "I'm so sorry," she croaked. "I just needed to hear that. I trust you, I honestly do, but I - "
"Shh ... it's okay." His gloved hand reached out and brushed the tear from her cheek. "It's all right. Why wouldn't you question what's doing with me?"
"It's wrong."
"No, I'm wrong." He took a deep breath. "I've spent the last week trying to force things to come out of my mouth. I've hated this shit, but I didn't know what the hell to say that wouldn't make it worse."
On some level, she was surprised at the compassion and the understanding. The two of them were so very independent and that was why their relationship worked: He was reserved and she didn't need much emotional support, and usually that math added up beautifully.
Not this week, however.
"I'm sorry, too," he murmured. "And I wish I were a different kind of male."
Somehow, she knew he was talking about so much more than his reserved nature. "There's nothing you can't talk to me about, V." When all she got back was a "Hmm," she said, "There's a lot of stress right now for you. I know that. And I would do anything to help you."
"I love you."
"Then you've got to talk to me. The one thing guaranteed not to work is silence."
"I know. But it's like looking into a dark room. I want to tell you shit, but I can't ... I can't see anything I feel."
She believed that - and recognized it as something that victims of child abuse tended to struggle with in adulthood. The early survival mechanism that got them through everything was compartmentalization: When things got too much to handle, they fractured their inner selves and stashed their emotions far, far away.
The danger, of course, was the pressure that invariably built up.
At least the ice between them was broken, though. And they were in this quiet, semi-peaceful space now.
Of their own volition, her eyes drifted down to his arousal, which lay flat up his stomach, stretching even beyond his navel. Suddenly, she wanted him so badly she couldn't speak.
"Take me, Jane," he growled. "Do whatever the f**k you want to me."
What she wanted to do was suck on him and so she did, bending over his hips, taking him into her mouth, drawing him down to the back of her throat. The sound he made was all animal, and his hips jerked up, pushing the hot length of him farther into her. Then one of his knees abruptly bent up so that he wasn't just prone, but sprawled, as he gave himself over to her completely, cupping the back of her head while she found a rhythm that drove him -
The shift of her body was both fast and smooth.
With his tremendous strength, V repositioned her in the blink of an eye, pivoting her around and shoving the sheets out of the way so he could lift her hips up and over his torso. Her thighs were split over his face and -
"Vishous," she said around his erection.
His mouth was slick and warm and right on target, fusing with her sex, latching on and sucking before his tongue snaked out and licked inside of her. Her brain didn't so much turn off as explode, and with nothing left to think with, she was blissfully lost in what was happening and not what had gone before. She had a feeling V was the same.... He was all about the stroking, lapping at her and sucking on her, his hands digging into her thighs as he moaned her name against her core. And it was damn hard to concentrate on what he was doing to her at the same time she was doing it for him, but what a problem to have. His erection in her mouth was hot and hard, and he was pure velvet between her legs, and the sensations were proof that even though she was a ghost, her physical reactions were just the same as when she'd been "alive" -