Back Dead and Loving It
Chapters (59)
  1. Cover
  2. More praise for MaryJanice Davidson and her novels
  3. Berkley Sensation titles by MaryJanice Davidson
  4. Dead and Loving It
  5. Copyright
  6. Acknowledgments
  7. Dead and Loving It
  8. Santa Claws
  9. Chapter 1
  10. Chapter 2
  11. Chapter 3
  12. Chapter 4
  13. Chapter 5
  14. Chapter 6
  15. Chapter 7
  16. Monster Love
  17. Prologue
  18. Chapter 1
  19. Chapter 2
  20. Chapter 3
  21. Chapter 4
  22. Chapter 5
  23. Chapter 6
  24. Chapter 7
  25. Chapter 8
  26. Chapter 9
  27. Chapter 10
  28. Chapter 11
  29. Epilogue
  30. There’s No Such Thing as a Werewolf
  31. Chapter 1
  32. Chapter 2
  33. Chapter 3
  34. Chapter 4
  35. Chapter 5
  36. Chapter 6
  37. Chapter 7
  38. Chapter 8
  39. Chapter 9
  40. Chapter 10
  41. Chapter 11
  42. Chapter 12
  43. A Fiend in Need
  44. Author’s Note
  45. Prologue
  46. Chapter 1
  47. Chapter 2
  48. Chapter 3
  49. Chapter 4
  50. Chapter 5
  51. Chapter 6
  52. Chapter 7
  53. Chapter 8
  54. Chapter 9
  55. Chapter 10
  56. Chapter 11
  57. Chapter 12
  58. Chapter 13
  59. Chapter 14

Tough? Sure. Real tough. She’d grown a shell around her soul the night she lost her virginity. The night she, in her ardor, broke her lover’s back. It had happened on the last day of her freshmen year in college, and her then-boyfriend, as far as she knew, was still in a wheelchair. It was the first and last time she’d chosen someone who wasn’t pack. It was, in fact, the last time she’d chosen anyone, until tonight. And she hasn’t exactly chosen this, had she?

“You can’t say Christ,” she whispered. “You’re a vampire.”

“One of the many myths,” he whispered back. He stroked her hair. She could feel his cock on her leg, throbbing impatiently. It didn’t give a fuck if she was hurt or not. It had business to get back to. And so did she. “Jane, why did you try to run away from me?”

“I didn’t, dimwad. I told you the truth.”

“Hmm.”

“Now will you please finish and untie me?”

“Pick one.”

She nearly screamed. “What?”

“Pick one.” He tapped her clit with a teasing finger. “And I’ll do it.” He kissed her again. He ducked down and licked her nipple and then sucked, hard. In their bonds, her hands curled into fists. “Whichever one. I’ll do it. Thoroughly.”

“I hate you,” she nearly sobbed.

“I know.”

“Finish.”

“Oh, thank God.” In an instant he was pushing his way inside her again, and for a half second, she understood why he had been concerned—the friction was delightful, so delightful, it was just this side of pain. Then he was pumping his hips against hers, and it became more than delightful; it was exquisite.

“Kiss me back,” he said into her mouth. “Give me your tongue.”

Half-blind from the swamping pleasure, she did so. He sucked on it in time with his thrusts, and she could hear someone making high, whimpering noises and realized with amazement it was her making those silly bitch sounds. The bed thumped in time with their fucking and then he tore his mouth from hers. “Now,” he hissed in her ear, “come now.” Then he pinched her nipple, hard, and that spun her into the most powerful orgasm of her life. She could actually feel the spasms ripple through her uterus, and the world got dark and fuzzy around the edges for a few moments. Above her he stiffened, and for a moment his grip was painful. “God, my God, Jane!” Then he shuddered all over, and he relaxed as she felt him spurt deeply inside her.

She dozed for a few minutes—it had been a stressful few days. She came all the way awake when she realized he was stroking her lower lip with his thumb. “Get the fuck off me now.”

“Ah, you’re back. I thought you were being uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Off. Now. Hate you. Kill you.”