“You are a manipulator.
I like to think of myself more as an outcome engineer.”
“What is your name?" she murmured.
He cocked an eyebrow at her and then went back to staring at his brother. "I'm the evil one, in case you haven't figured it out."
"I wanted your name, not your calling."
"Being a bastard's more of a compulsion, really. And it's Zsadist. I am Zsadist.”
“I will not fall in love with you," she said. "I can't let myself. I won't."
"That's all right. I'll love you enough for the both of us.”
“The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked.
She was sobbing. Bawling. Crying so hard her whole body was shaking.
He didn't ask any questions, just wrapped himself around her.
I'm not okay," she said hoarsely between breaths. "Rhage...I'm not okay.”
“He wanted to give her another word to say, something like luscious or whisper or strawberry. Hell, antidisestablishmentarianism would do it.”
“V shook his head. “Remember what you saw in that clearing, cop? How’d you like that anywhere near a female you loved?”
Butch put down the Bud without drinking from it. His eyes traveled over Rhage’s body.
“We’re going to need a shitload of steel,” the human muttered.”
“You're getting into some kind of shape, cop."
Aw, come on, now." Butch grinned. "Don't let that shower we took go to your head."
Rhage fired a towel at the male. "Just pointing out your beer gut's gone."
It was a Scotch pot. And I don't miss it.”
“Fine. If I can't have you, then you do the taking. Have all of me, part of me, a small piece, whatever you want. Just please, have something.”
“All I know is, she's a pounding in my chest that I can't ignore. . . hell, that I don't WANT to ignore. [Rhage]”
“It was the wife, John thought. And she was giving this tough guy a tongue-lashing. And the man was taking it.
"Okay. I love you. Bye." Tohrment flipped the phone closed and put it in his pocket. When he focused on John again, he clearly respected his wife enough not to roll his eyes and make some macho, shithead comment about pesky women.”
“My name...my name is Mary. I'm here with a friend.'
Rhage stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat and then slowed. "Say that again,' he whispered.
'Ah, my name is Mary Luce. I'm a friend of Bella's...We came here with a boy, with John Matthew. We were invited.'
Rhage shivered, a balmy rush blooming out all over his skin. The musical lilt of her voice, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her words, it all spread through him, calming him, comforting him. Chaining him sweetly.
He closed his eyes. 'Say something else.'
'What?' she asked, baffled.
'Talk. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice.'
She was silent, and he was about to demand that she speak when she said, 'You don't look well. Do you need a doctor?'
He found himself swaying. The words didn't matter. It was her sound: low, soft, a quiet brushing in his ears. He felt as if here being stroked on the inside of his skin.
'More,' he said, twisting his palm around to the front of her neck so he could feel the vibrations in her throat better.
'Could you... could you please let go of me?'
'No.' He brought his other arm up. She was wearing some kind of fleece, and he moved the collar aside, putting his hand on her shoulder so she couldn't get away from him. 'Talk.'
She started to struggle. 'You're crowding me.'
'I know. Talk.'
'Oh for God's sake, what do you want me to say?'
Even exasperated, her voice was beautiful. 'Anything.'
'Fine. Get your hand off my throat and let me go or I'm going to knee you where it counts.'
He laughed. Then sank his lower body into her, trapping her with his thighs and hips. She stiffened against him, but he got an ample feel of her. She was built lean, though there was no doubt she was female. Her breasts hit his chest, her hips cushioned his, her stomach was soft.
'Keep talking,' he said in her ear. God, she smelled good. Clean. Fresh. Like lemon.
When she pushed against him, he leaned his full weight into her. Her breath came out in a rush.
'Please,' he murmured.
Her chest moved against his as if she were inhaling. 'I... er, I have nothing to say. Except get off of me.'
He smiled, careful to keep his mouth closed. There was no sense showing off his fangs, especially if she didn't know what he was. 'So say that.'
'What?'
'Nothing. Say nothing. Over and over and over again. Do it.'
She bristled, the scent of fear replaced by a sharp spice, like fresh, pungent mint from a garden. She was annoyed now. 'Say it.'
"Fine. Nothing. Nothing.' Abruptly she laughed, and the sound shot right through to his spine, burning him. 'Nothing, nothing. No-thing. No-thing. Noooooothing. There, is that good enought for you? Will you let me go now?”
“Fine, dandy, she thought. Then lose the shirt, peel off those leather pants, and lie down on my tile. We'll take turns being on the bottom.”
“She smiled a little. "You are a manipulator"
"I like to think of myself more as an outcome engineer.”
“What you just had is nothing compared to what I want to do to you. I want my head between your legs so I can lick you until you scream my name. Then I want to mount you like an animal and look into your eyes as I come inside you. And after that? I want to take you every way there is. I want to do you from behind. I want to screw you standing up, against the wall. I want you to sit on my hips and ride me until I can't breath. - Rhage to Mary”
“You're some freaky shit, my brother. You really are”
“I am barren of words. For no sounds from my mouth are worthy of your hearing”
“Although she was ashamed to admit it now, the darkness in him had been the largest part of his allure. It was such an anomaly, a contrast to what she'd known from life. It had made him dangerous. Exciting. Sexy. But that was a fantasy. This was real.
He suffered. And there was nothing sexy or thrilling about that. (Zsadists & Bella)”
“V chuckled. "I had to do something to shut you up. Every damn time I've run into you since I grew it, you ask me if I've French-kissed a tailpipe."
(Rhage)”
“Fine, good, Mary thought. Then how about dragging your skinny ass out of here and making sure your replacement is an ugly, two-toothed gorgon in a muumuu.”
“Oh, the humanity....
It was a wonder Rhage hadn't blinded himself with all that pop culture.”
“Being with Mary was different because...he wasn't the only one who wanted to make love to her.
The beast wanted her, too.
The beast wanted out so it could take her.”
“How can you stand to have me near you?" "The only thing I can't handle is your leaving.”
“I'm not cock-blocking for kicks and giggles. The mothership called”
“The rejection didn't faze him. "Fine. If I can't have you, then you do the taking. Have all of me, part of me, a small piece, whatever you want. Just please, have something.”
“It was right then and there that she'd realized there was no quota on misery for people, no quantifiable threshold that once reached, got you miraculously taken out of the distress pool.”
“I can’t… I find that I can’t concentrate. On anything. I can’t really…” Rhage’s eyes drifted to Zsadist. “How do you live with it? All the anger. The pain. The…”
“You want to poof it or ride back with me?”
“Mary frowned. A vampire doctor. Talk about exploring your alternative therapies.”
“All right, big guy, down you go."
Oh,yeah. Bed. Bed was good.
"And look who's here. It's Nurse Vishous.”
“Perhaps to lose a sense of where you are implies the danger of losing a sense of who you are.”
“And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles”
“Everybody was asleep. Everybody except me, James Herriot, creeping sore and exhausted towards another spell of hard labour. Why the hell had I ever decided to become a country vet? I must have been crazy to pick a job where you worked seven days a week and through the night as well. Sometimes I felt as though the practice was a malignant, living entity; testing me, trying me out; putting the pressure on more and more to see just when at what point I would drop down dead.”
“Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.”
“But silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grown pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you.”
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