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The Shadows(179)

By:J. R. Ward


She blinked fast. “Oh, Trez…”

He picked up one of the rings she had thrown back on the velvet tray and put it over the nail of her ring finger. “Come on, say it with me.”

“Say what?”

“‘Fuck you, death.’”

“Trez. Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Hey, on the outside chance the Grim Reaper is listening, I think he needs to know how much we hate his ass. Come on, my queen, say it with me. ‘Fuck you, death.’”

She put her free hand up to hide an off-kilter smile. “You’re crazy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know—and stop ducking this. ‘Fuck you, death!’” When she just mumbled the words, he shook his head. “Nope. Louder. ‘Fuck you, death!’”

Selena started to laugh. “This isn’t funny.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” He smiled and nodded at her, still poised with the ring at the top of her finger. “All together—like he can hear you.”

“Fuck you, death!” she hollered. Then she smiled broadly. “Fuck you, death!”

He slid the ring home and sat back, staring at the sparkler. “You know, I really like that one, actually.”

Selena peered over her hand and regarded the grape-size, pear-shaped rock. “Oh … boy. It’s so big.”

“That’s what she said.”

As they both started to laugh, he pulled her in by the back of the neck and kissed her. “You want to keep trying on some more?”

She shook her head. “No, this is perfect. I want this one.”

Putting her beautiful hand out, she did that thing females did with rings, pursing her lips and smiling to herself.

God, I love you, he thought, you perfect, perfect female of worth.

“Are you sure it’s not too expensive?” she said.

“No matter the cost”—he kissed her again—“it’s yours.”

iAm got naked really damn fast. As soon as he was birthday-suit ready, he wanted to go down on maichen—even though he had no idea what to do to a female below the waist, he was three hundred ready to find the hell out.

Didn’t happen.

The wrench in the works was when he got within range of her, his sex brushing up against hers as he positioned himself on top—

That was pretty much it.

“I need you,” he groaned as she ran her hands up his back and down his sides.

“Then take me.”

iAm forced himself to stop. “Are you okay, though? After last night?”

God, he couldn’t get enough of her almond-shaped eyes, and that black curling hair of hers all over the white pillowcase, and her resplendent skin. She was a constant revelation, one that shocked in a good way every time he looked at her.

“I am well,” she said. “And I am of strength, thanks to your generous vein.”

He really loved her accent, the dialect that was spoken in the Territory tinting her English with the sounds of home—

No, not home, he reminded himself. Caldwell was home.

Reaching between them, he angled his cock and drove in slowly with his hips, wanting to make sure he didn’t force anything.

In response, her nails bit into his skin, and she arched up, her breasts all tight tips. “iAm…”

His hips took over, driving in and out, the friction going to his head like he’d been drinking all night. Harder, faster—until she came, jerking up against him, straining under him, one of her hands slapping down on the bed and twisting the duvet up hard.

He just kept going, coming over and over again. And then he pulled out of her and stroked himself, orgasming over her sex, her belly, her breasts.

Even as he was all in with what he was doing, a part of him refused to recognize the significance.

He wasn’t marking this female.

He just … nope, he wasn’t.

Because if he was marking her, if this was anything more than just an intense session with a female he happened to be really fucking attracted to?

Then it could put him in a very difficult situation. Especially as his brother was going to refuse to return and do his duty at the Territory, and iAm was then going to have to go on the lam to avoid an ax falling on the head of the only blood relation who mattered to him.

But again, he told himself as he collapsed against her naked body, he wasn’t marking anything like that.

Nope.

Not at all.





SIXTY-FOUR


They held hands all the way home.

As Trez drove the Porsche back to the compound, he kept contact with his queen, thumbing her palm, playing with her new ring, bringing her hand up for a kiss.

“Everyone has been so kind,” she murmured, her head back against the seat rest, the flaring lights from the streetlamps at the highway junctions giving him blue-tinted hints of her face.