The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #12)

It took a moment for her demand to sink in, and then he realized that this was a moment in life when the path that was presented had only two forks—and in his mind, neither was a good one.

“Wrath…” she groaned. “Wrath … just drug me.”

He thought of the kit he’d left on the counter. All he had to do was open it, fill a syringe and inject the morphine into her. And then her suffering would be eased—

Only partially, a part of him pointed out—

A fresh onslaught of need crushed Beth’s body, her gasp rising to the volume of another scream, her limbs knocking into him as she spasmed.

He wasn’t sure exactly when his mind made itself up. But suddenly, his hands were at the button fly of his leathers, the medication forgotten, the direction chosen.

“Hold on, leelan,” he grunted as he released his erection. “Hold on, I’m coming…”

Too fucking right.

Except as he felt around for her legs and went to take her jeans off, it took him for goddamn ever: Her body fought with him, thighs scissoring as she twisted and turned on the floor—but when he finally got the fuckers off her legs, he didn’t waste time. He forced her to be still, digging his hands into her hips, and then he—

Beth yelled out his name as he entered her, her nails tearing into his shoulders, her breasts shoving up against his chest. He came immediately, his balls tightening up and then releasing—and he wasn’t prepared for the response from her. As she orgasmed along with him, her sex milked him, pulling at his length, all but yanking at him—

He came again. So violently, he bit into his own tongue.

Pumping against her, pumping into her, he went hard and wild—until his body took a short pause to recover. And that was when he felt the difference he’d made in her: She, too, was at a brief rest, the tension in her body uncoiling as if her very molecules were taking a deep breath.

But before he could congratulate himself, he sensed something else. Sorrow permeated the air, the sad spice of it stopping him and tilting his head down as if he could look her in the eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he said roughly. “Leelan, don’t—”

“Why are you doing this?” she moaned. “Why …?”

There was only one answer. For tonight … and evermore: “Because I love you more than anything else.”

More than himself. More than any future young.

Her trembling hand brushed his face. “Are you sure?”

He replied by beginning to move deep inside of her again, the rolling penetrations sliding him in and out of her slick sex. And her response? The sound she let out was part purr, part groan, her hormones cranking up again.

For some reason, he thought about Vishous’s vision.

I see you standing in a field of white. White, white is all around you and you are talking to the face in the heavens.

Your future is in your hands.

Jesus Christ, he felt like the Fade was breathing down his neck, stalking him—and even though that was true of every living thing, he felt targeted, like his expiration date was around the next corner.

It didn’t mean that Beth was going to survive him. Quite the contrary. The most likely cause of his own demise … was going to be hers.

Dropping his head into her neck, he jacked his arms under her body and got serious about the fucking. Giving in, giving up, going with it was just like jumping off a cliff—the leap was the easy part because the free-falling didn’t cost you shit.

It was the landing that was a killer.





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