Read Her Dark Lord for Free Online Page B

Hunger combusted within her like an inferno, and she leaned forward and bit deep into his throat, his lifeblood spurting into her mouth, feeding her inner fire.
    Power filled her, rushed at her senses, swept her away in a current of euphoria that had her back arch involuntarily, her spine pop, her muscles locking tight.
    He roared something unintelligible as he climaxed, and she shattered an instant later, whimpering as she convulsed around him again and again.
    Fangs disengaging from his throat, she sagged against his chest with a strangled gasp. She couldn’t fight the charge of his lifeblood. It zapped through her, pure and unadulterated, quickly gaining power and momentum until she trembled under the onslaught, their link an overwhelming rush of the senses.
    With a despairing sob, she surrendered wholly to him. And like a hapless babe, when black oblivion hurtled toward her, she welcomed it with open arms.
     
    Kia woke to darkness and the silky caress of Ronan’s hand along her upper thigh.
    She sucked in a breath, fighting instant, raging need while the knowledge of what she had done went on a rampage through her mind. Oblivion may well have taken away her awareness some minutes—hours?—before, but no such luck now. Clarity hit her senses like wild aftershocks.
    “How are you feeling?” Ronan asked, pressing a warm kiss to her throat just beneath her ear.
    “Like hell.” She jerked away, flooded with need even while sickened by what had transpired. She was blood-bound to this vampire for eternity! She swallowed back self-loathing. Truth be told, she’d do it all over again if she had to. She’d risk everything to help her mother.
    “Hell, hmm?” He rolled toward her so that his torso fit snug against her back and bare buttocks, the satiny head of his thickening arousal kissing her spine as he swung a leg over her thigh. “I doubt you really mean that.”
    Her womb clenched in response. “And just how would you know?” she asked hoarsely.
    “Because I’ve lived it,” he murmured. He released a ragged breath before he explained, “Hell is surviving war while your comrades don’t. Hell is losing every mortal you’ve ever befriended to illness or old age.”
    She felt the tension in his muscles, as though the memories had caught him up and thrown him back into the past.
    “But mostly,” he said harshly, “hell is seeing your best friend succumb to his dark side. Hell is having no choice but to impale him through the heart, watching as his life ebbs away.”
    Kia turned in his embrace, her mortal heart aching for him even as a sense of apprehension shot down her spine. “You killed your best friend?”
    “Yes.”
    She had a sudden urge to help him forget the past, to kiss his rigid mouth into pliable softness, knead the tension from his shoulders and smooth the lines from his brow. She tamped down the compulsion and uttered, “Why?”
    He brushed his thumb back and forth across her tilted chin. “I was left with no option after he attacked your mother.”
    Her pulses jerked fitfully and she pulled back a little. “You killed my sire?” she whispered. “He’s dead?”
    “Yes.”
    Bittersweet emotion twisted her heartstrings and plucked them bare, leaving her feeling empty, bewildered. “I don’t know what to say.”
    “You don’t have to say anything.” He kissed her forehead, his lips cool on her heated skin. “I know you hated him and wanted your own revenge. But he wasn’t always evil.”
    With an effort that was almost painful, she pushed her mental shields back into place. She’d clearly been open to him, confused and disorientated as she’d been when she woke.
    She should have known better—she’d discovered something close to awe from other nightwalkers with the Ancient One’s mind-reading ability—an ability matched only by his legendary blood-healing properties.
    A fury that seemed always at hand around him had her clamber to her feet. “You know nothing!” she hissed.