Part 10 (2/2)

Darcy grabbed for the snap at her waistband, popped it open, and slid down the zipper. He stood so close, her head rubbed his belly when she knelt to push the pants down her legs. Her cheek glided along the erection straining against his pants.

Naked, she straightened, fighting to keep her hands at her sides, rather than covering her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Ridiculous, she knew. Both men had made love to her, but this was different.

Joe was like a stranger.

The corners of his mouth lifted. It wasn't a pleasant smile.

She s.h.i.+vered, alarm and a wicked thrill coursing down her spine. Before she could protest, he ducked and shoved his shoulder into her belly. She folded over him, and he straightened. Lifting her from the ground, he headed for her bedroom.

Darcy raised her head to find Quentin, hoping he would intervene. His jaw was set and his gaze a little wild. Yet he said nothing, did nothing, save follow them inside, turning on the lamp on the bedside table.

Joe tossed her on the mattress, and her breath left her in a whoosh.

He stripped in seconds and fell across her. ”No preliminaries, sweetheart. I'll f.u.c.k you before I eat.”

His thighs forced hers apart, and he rammed inside her.

Even as tears of outrage filled her eyes, she couldn't deny the ease of his entry. Her p.u.s.s.y was drenched with her arousal.

Joe allowed her no time to adjust or room to breathe. He pinned her arms to the bed high above her head. He pumped into her, hot and fast, his chest flattened against hers. With his face inches above her, he forced her to see his anger and accept the pain he inflicted.

His c.o.c.k pounded away at her womb, reaching farther than she thought he could. His girth was thicker than she remembered and crammed tightly into her channel with each forward stroke.

While her mind protested his rough treatment, her body ripened. Her nipples swelled, the tips stabbing at Joe's chest. The delicate tissues lining her v.a.g.i.n.a released a wash of arousal that lubricated his c.o.c.k and eased his pa.s.sage.

”If I'd known you got off on violence,” he whispered harshly, ”I'd have raped you long ago.”

Blood pounded in her ears. ”No, you wouldn't have. And this isn't rape,” she gritted out, finding it difficult to speak as he pummeled her. ”I'm here of my own free will.” Darcy decided to prove it. She raised her legs around his hips and gripped him, pulling him deeper inside.

With a growl, he pumped faster. His scowl tightened, and he closed his eyes and flung back his head. With a final thrust, he came, his warm e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e spurting into her.

For a long moment, they stared at each other. His face was still taut, his cheeks still colored with his anger, but regret stained his eyes. He released her hands and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder.

Darcy enfolded him in her embrace and held him until his breath slowed.

”I'm sorry,” he said, his voice strained.

She squeezed her eyes tight, relieved Joe's soul was intact, and that he was still her friend. Remorse meant he still had a conscience. ”I know. It's okay,” she said. ”It's okay.”

He pushed away, and she unwrapped her legs and arms. Rolling to his back, he covered his eyes with his forearm.

Darcy lay sprawled on the bed, her legs splayed, tears leaking from her eyes, utterly defeated. Joe's soul had survived, but his unhappiness wasn't just a matter of adjustment to his new state. He hated what he'd become. And the change was her fault.

She heard the rustle of clothing, and her gaze found Quentin.

His face was taut, his eyes haunted. He removed his clothing and lay down beside her, opposite Joe.

Darcy rolled to her side and opened her arms.

They lay on their sides, facing each other. Quentin wiped her tears away with his fingers, and then rubbed the moisture onto her nipples in slow circles.

Darcy leaned toward him and kissed his lips, her breath catching on a jagged sob when his mouth molded to hers.

He made love to her, sweetly, slowly-his hands soothing her frazzled nerves. He rubbed away the tension in her shoulders, circled each b.u.mp of her spine in slow, melting caresses until her sorrow eased. He built a slow fire that raised dimples on her nipples and drew the tips to hard points. His hand moved to her belly, and he ma.s.saged away the tension she hadn't known was there, smoothing her with his fingertips, gradually increasing the pressure and using his knuckles to knead. She almost drifted to sleep beneath his tender ministration, until his hands slid southward.

She eased apart her legs, allowing him entry, and he circled her opening without dipping inside, building a slow ache that had her arching gently into his hand, seeking more of his sensual solace.

He kissed her, his lips lapping hers in an undemanding kiss, and suddenly, she wanted more.

She wound her fingers in his soft hair and pulled his face closer to deepen the kiss, making kitten sounds in the back of her throat to tell him how much he pleased her.

He drew back from the kiss.

At the movement, she opened her eyes. His face was still stark, his nostrils flared, and she knew the cost of this sweet seduction to his control.

”Love, Joe must feed, and you have to take him into your body again while he does it.” He inserted a finger into her channel and swirled inside. ”He's waited too long to drink without the bloodl.u.s.t overcoming his senses-unless he subst.i.tutes s.e.xual l.u.s.t for bloodl.u.s.t during the feeding. Do you understand what I'm telling you?”

She nodded, not happy he'd prepared her for Joe's benefit. She bit back a moan when a second finger slipped inside her.

”You have her well primed,” Joe muttered behind her. ”She wants you.”

”You made a ballocks of your previous opportunity, pup,” Quentin countered angrily, even as his hands continued to gently seduce her body. ”You'll do this under my guidance. A first feeding can take a man's mind. I won't let you harm her by forgetting yourself.”

Joe growled deep in his throat. ”But she wants you. The scent of her arousal is growing by the moment.”

”Perhaps...” Darcy's voice was so soft and uncertain, she wasn't sure they'd heard.

Quentin's gaze met hers. ”What is it, love?”

Darcy swallowed, not believing what she was about to ask, but she wasn't sure her heart or her body could take another angry storm. ”Could you both make love to me?”

He went completely still.

Behind her, Joe's soft, cynical laughter shook the mattress.

Heat infused her body, and she framed her hands on Quentin's face. ”I want you, but he needs me now. Can't I hold you, and take both of you inside me?” She knew her face flamed at the whispered suggestion.

Joe stopped laughing.

”You're very tight there,” Quentin replied, his words spoken with deliberation. ”He'll hurt you.”

”Then help prepare me.”

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