The hospital bed had been stripped and moved away from the wall; it was now in the center of the room, the foot of the mattress facing the door. All of the other furniture, the chair, the rolling table, even the framed painting and wall-mounted TV, had been removed.
Swallowing again, he toed up the door stopper, and as the panel eased shut, he turned off his phone. There was a little closet, and he put the cell in there, on a shallow shelf. After that, he pulled his black muscle shirt out of the waistband of his leathers and took the thing off. Stretching his arms over his head, he arched back, trying to loosen the tension locked along his spine.
When he undid the buttons of his fly, his arousal jumped out—
Oh. So he’d come sometime during the trip down here.
The orgasm hadn’t even registered, his erotic anticipation was so great.
Bending low, he peeled the leather down his thighs, and when he got to his calves, he realized, Mensa member though he was, that he’d forgotten to unlace his shitkickers. He took care of the problem quick . . . and then he was kicking the heavy weights off his feet and shucking his pants. The last thing he had to remove was his socks.
Even though he was a neat freak, except for the living room of the Pit, he crammed his clothes into the bottom of the closet—
As he turned around, he stopped.
V did not move. Except for his cock.
It kicked at the front of his hips.
Across the warm glow of the clinical room, Jane, his shellan, was in her ghostly form, nothing but a shimmering shadow that distorted the flat wall she stood in front of.
Without a word, she pointed to the hospital bed.
V opened his mouth and began to pant. On legs that felt seriously unreliable, he did as he was commanded, going over to the mattress.
The institutional-grade five-point restraints were laid out across the latex bottom sheet—
With a groaning curse, he orgasmed again, jets of come shooting out of him, speckling the floor. Just the sight of the black nylon straps with their buckles and hooks was enough for him—and this time, he felt the release.
But it did nothing to drain him. He was a well that was going to take hours to empty.
And he needed this.
Instead of going around to the side to lie down, he all-foured it, mounting the foot of the bed and prowling up to get in position, his erection bobbing, the tip of his long sex brushing the latex sheet until he wanted to scream in frustration.
The good kind.
When he was where he needed to be, he stretched out on his back. That was when he started shaking badly enough to rattle his molars. This was the hardest part for him. Even though he knew who he was with, even though he had asked for this, even though this was what he required . . .
He was a Dom for a reason. Loss of control was the fundamental fault line in his psyche, the earthquake that tore him apart.
And that was the point.
When he was ready, when his arms would listen to his mind’s command, he stretched one and then the other out at a ninety-degree angle, laying the backs of his hands on the far sides of the heavy cuffs. Down at the other end of the bed, he moved his legs apart, placing his ankles on one, and the other, of the straps there.
And then he had to hold it together. As his chest pumped up and down, and his eyes watered, and his heart thundered, he had to force himself to stay in place.
While his mate, the woman he loved, watched him.
The longer she watched, the harder he had to work to keep ahold of himself.
“Fuck,” he said as his jaw locked. “I can’t . . .”
Time went eternal on him, and he felt hot tears seep out the corners of his eyes. Deep inside, he hated himself for what Rhage had seen in him. He hated the petty jealousy over a relationship Butch didn’t have anymore . . . with a human man who was no longer in his roommate’s world, much less his life.
V was a fucking weak piece of shit, and he wanted that toxic knowledge out of him.
So he clamored and quaked on the hospital bed.
As his female gave him absolutely nothing to go on.
Vishous had never loved Jane more.
Rio’s eyes flipped open, and this time, as she called on them to focus, it was different. She was back. She didn’t know how else to describe it. On the disjointed trip to—where the hell was she?—she had come and gone, her senses trying to penetrate a fog of incomprehension that stemmed from the knocks on her noggin. Now, though, as her lids went wide, she was fully aware, fully functional.
Yes, in pain. Yes, lost, wherever she was.
But her mind was cranking over again.
After confirming her basic physical functions were ongoing, her brain was all about orientation: She was on her side, staring at a wall that was gray, but not painted that color. It was concrete blocks stacked and mortared together. Further, she was lying down on something that was soft. And there was something pushing against her lower back, keeping her in place— When she went to move her head, a bomb burst of pain lit off, but she’d better get used to that.
“You want something to eat?”
At the male voice, she rolled her torso over—and groaned at the pain. Luke was right beside the bed she was on, sitting on the hard floor. He had changed out of that too-tight leather jacket—hey, check her out, she was remembering details—and was wearing a loose sweatshirt the color of a cloudy sky.
“Where am I?” she demanded.
As his brows went up, she assumed he was as surprised as she was at the strength behind the syllables. Either that or she’d just spoken gibberish.
“You’re with me,” he answered.
“And where are we?”
“Here.”
Rio took a deep breath—or tried to. When she didn’t get far with the inhale thing, she wasn’t sure whether she had broken some ribs or was just stiff as hell. With that debate ongoing, she gritted her teeth and pushed herself upright.
Luke reached out as if he were prepared to catch her as she collapsed—or maybe exploded, given the bracing tension in his face. But she made it far enough on her own so that she was sitting on her hips. Turning her head, she grimaced. Half her neck was a steel band that did not appreciate any attempt to maneuver it. Her shoulders were the same.
But she was alive.