The Black Dagger Brotherhood by J. R. Ward

his six-pack. She swore she could feel his muscles strengthening under her palm, his body drawing on what he’d gotten from his feeding. The fact that she was making him strong made her proud . . . but more than that, it made her feel connected to him.
    The Scribe Virgin had been a smart one when she’d created a race that needed to feed from itself.
    â€œWell? Has it?” Z rolled over on top of her, his scarred face breaking into an I-am-the-man smile. “Or do I need to prove it again?”
    She ran her hands up his heavy arms. “No, I think we’re—Z!”
    â€œWhat?” he drawled as he nestled his way in between her legs again. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I’m still hungry.” He put his mouth to hers as gentle as a breath. “Mmmm . . .”
    His lips went down to her neck and he gave his bite mark a little nuzzle, as if he were saying thank-you.
    â€œMmm . . . mine,” he growled.
    So slow, so soft . . . his mouth went down farther, to her breast. He paused at the nipple.
    â€œAre they sensitive?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his nose over her crest, then licking her.
    â€œYes . . .” She shivered as he blew a stream of air over where his tongue had been.
    â€œThey look it. All red and pouty and pretty.” He was ever so careful with her breasts, caressing them with his hands and kissing them lightly.
    When he moved down to her stomach she started to get hot and restless again, and he smiled up at her. “Have you missed my kisses, darling mate? The ones I like to give you between your thighs?”
    â€œYes,” she choked out while anticipation shivered through her. Given the erotic little grin on his face and the evil cast to his yellow stare, he was once again a male with plans and a wide-open schedule.
    He rose up on his knees. “Open your legs for me. I like to watch you—Oh . . . shit . . . yeah.” He rubbed at his mouth like he was warming the thing up. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
    His shoulders bunched up hard as he leaned down and made like a cat to a bowl of milk—while she made like an ehros, giving herself up to him and his warm wet mouth.
    â€œI want to go slowly,” he murmured against her core as she groaned his name. “I don’t want to finish my treat too quickly.”
    That wasn’t going to be a problem, she thought. For him, she was a pool with no bottom . . .
    His tongue slipped inside of her, in a hot penetration, then went back to its sweet, dragging strokes. Looking down her body, she saw him staring up at her with glowing citrine eyes . . . and as if he’d waited for her gaze to meet his, he flicked the top of her sex back and forth.
    Watching his pink flesh work hers threw her over the edge again.
    â€œZsadist . . .” she groaned, palming his head and pushing her hips up.
    Â 
    There was nothing more delicious than being between your shellan’s legs.
    It wasn’t just the taste; it was the sounds and the scents and the way she looked at you with her head cocked to the side and her rosy lips open so she could breathe. It was the soft, welling center of everything that made her female against your mouth and the trust she had in letting you get this close. It was everything private and sensual and special. . . .
    And the kind of thing you could do forever.
    As his shellan let out the most incredible moan and started to orgasm, Zsadist moved up her body and put himself inside so he could feel the contractions along his shaft.
    He put his mouth to her ear as he came into her. “You are everything to me.”
    When they rested together afterward, he stared down her full breasts to her abdomen and thought of how amazing her body was compared to his. Her curves and feminine strength had created a whole new person, had provided the protective place for the alchemy of them coming together and making life.
    The two of them.
    â€œNalla