He chuckled as she reached into her bag, unable to leave her purchases alone, even for the time it took to get back home, and pulled her new hat on. She grinned at him, tweaking the purple knit bobble on top of her new toque. “I love it!” she announced happily, hugging her moose.
When they arrived at the cabin, David reached for her before Natasha could dash off in her usual whirlwind hurry to accomplish whatever task was paramount in her mind. She gasped as he swung her around and up into his arms before striding purposefully toward the bedroom with her. He shoved the half-closed door open with his shoulder, knocking it against the wall and then tossed her easily on the bed.
“Stay,” he commanded when she landed with a soft bounce.
Instead of following her down onto the mattress he went back into the main area and quickly started the fireplace, filling the room with light and warmth. Then he returned to the bed, his dark eyes gleaming with intent. Natasha stared up at him shyly. They had made love many times over the past month, sometimes stormy and sometimes not. But never like this. Never after spending a wonderful, happy day together. A day that was both a reminder of old times, but at the same time, even better than old times.
David leaned over Natasha, tucking his arms around her and the thick blankets surrounding her. She gasped and reached for his shoulders as he swept both her and the heavy quilts right off the bed.
“David!”
His eyes met hers as he carried her easily into the front room, around the sofa and placed her on the hard floor on top of the fluffy bed of blankets directly in front of the crackling fire. Warmth suffused their limbs, chasing away the chill of the lingering winter air. Snow was now falling thick and fast, easily visible through the many windows of the cabin. The occupants were warm and insulated in their cocoon of blankets, wrapped in each other’s arms.
David placed his lips against Natasha’s, tasting the smile that had teased him all day. The mouth that had drawn him from the first moment he had spied her on stage at the Bolshoi, dancing her heart out, beckoning to every male in the room. Blood surged through his body in remembrance. His lips drifted to her cheeks, her eyes, her ears, jaw, neck. She sighed as he kissed all the parts of her that belonged to him and him alone. No other man had touched this woman. No other man would ever touch her. It amazed him still that such a prize could belong to him, the degenerate deadly killer. He had wanted her and he had taken her. He did not deserve her, but he fucking wanted her. And god help any power on earth that tried to remove this woman from his possession.
He pulled her sweater up and over her head, allowing her to lift her arms without him wrenching them. Then he reached around her back to unhook her bra, tracing his fingers underneath it, drawing shivers along her delicate flesh. He pulled it away, revealing her small, perfect breasts. Her eyes danced in the firelight as she looked up at him, begging him to touch her. Of course, he could not deny such a pretty plea.
Dipping his head, a lock of his hair falling forward onto the creamy swell of her breast, he took one pert nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. She exhaled sharply before moaning. Her hand came up behind his head, hovering for a moment, before gently twining in his hair. The feel of her graceful fingers shyly scraping against his scalp was enough to draw the savage out from hiding. He bared his teeth, scraping her nipple just enough to give her the edge of delicious pain he knew she would enjoy. She jumped and gasped, attempting to pull away. He whipped an arm around her back, jerking her back into his hold. He opened his mouth and devoured her breast, teasing her nipple with intense suction until her head lolled back on her shoulders and she was moaning in his arms.
The sounds she made drove him crazy with need. The dark things he wanted to do to this woman flooded his consciousness until his grip on her became more brutal than he intended. He thrust the thoughts aside and gentled his touch enough to give her the pleasure necessary to keep her in the moment with him. It amazed him that she had seen the depths of the beast within and still seemed willing to accept him with such loving grace. They had finally come back together, finally found a delicate harmony and he was loath to shatter the balance of their existence.
He tipped her back onto the blankets, sliding his palms down her back so she wouldn’t hit the hard floor. She tipped her head back giving him access to the perfect arch of her throat. He swooped in with a growl, feasting on the delicate length, nipping at the creamy skin until it was red. She arched up into him, widening her legs, seeking the rough thrust of his cock against the softness of her pelvis. He reached down without stopping the havoc he was wreaking on her throat and tore the thin leggings and panties from her legs, baring her completely to the warming air.
Natasha moaned in his ear and wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping his arm between their bodies. She rocked herself against him, sliding her wet pussy against the skin and hair of his wrist, creating delicious friction for herself. He went rigid over top of her as she writhed underneath him, calling to the monster like an innocent siren seeking something she couldn’t possibly comprehend.
With a growl, David lunged for her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep between the sweetness of his wife’s lips while sliding his hand up to cup her sex in the palm of his hand, feeling her heat and wetness. All mine, the blackness of his mind shouted as he pushed a finger through the silken resistance of her vaginal opening. She moaned into his mouth, tightened her arms around his neck and rocked her hips up to meet the invasion. He massaged her with his finger while circling her clit with his thumb. Her cries became higher pitched as she flew toward the peak of her orgasm, trusting him to keep her safe while she soared free.
David felt her nails scrambling along the back of his neck, desperately tearing at his collar, trying to hold onto something as she reached for the shimmering promise held just within reach. His arm tightened around his wife and he added another finger into her tight, silken passage, thrusting deep with his long fingers until she shattered beneath him, her head falling back and her mouth opening in a long scream that echoed throughout the wooden building. Shadows flickered along the walls and embers fell in a chaotic dance, crashing to the bottom of the fireplace.
Natasha went completely limp onto the blankets as David helped her lay back. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his shoulders, tossing it behind him. Looking at his wife, sprawled underneath him, firelight licking sensuously at every inch of delicious skin, he was helpless against the lure of her open thighs. He wrapped his fingers around her legs, the wetness of her pussy from his earlier exploration smearing across her pristine flesh, and shoved them back so he could have better access to the dripping treasure he craved.
The first touch of his tongue to her heated core sent her reaching instantly upward for more of the blazing orgasms she knew her husband would provide. He growled into her flesh like the beast he felt, consumed by her responsive fire. He held her lithe legs back, high against her body, folding them until she couldn’t move under the lash of his tongue and the forceful thrust of his long fingers in her body as he forced her high once more. The only relief when she arched her back, pressing one palm against the blanket as it slid against the smooth grain of the wood flooring while the other reached for her lover.
“David, nyet!” she screamed while simultaneously begging him to continue.
Once more she exploded under his expert touch, filling his mouth with the delicious taste of her. He would never forget, in this lifetime or the next, what it was to have his wife on his tongue or in his arms. There was no other experience to compare. He crouched over top of her, caging her with his body as she collapsed once more in a panting, helpless heap beneath him while he reached down to unclasp the fine material of his dark pants and shove them down his thighs. Once he’d kicked them out of the way he took her in his arms and clasped her tightly against his chest, taking a handful of her hair, spilling in a dark halo across her pale shoulders. Her beautiful sparkling blue eyes flickered in surprise and alarm as he tugged at the
tender strands, forcefully drawing her attention.
He used the hard floor to his advantage, tilting his hips into hers and impaling himself deep within her hot, soaking pussy in one swift thrust before she had time to fully realize his intent. She cried out at the sudden intrusion, stiffening against his body and digging her nails into his shoulders. “David, oh god!” she cried out, her cloudy eyes sharpening in pain and ecstasy as his cock forged through her, battering against her cervix. “Nyet, pozhaluysta, stap!” she begged breathlessly, her teeth sinking into his shoulder.
“Nikogda!” he replied savagely. “I will never stop, love.”
His hold on her was so tight she could do nothing but hang on for the ride. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and cried out with each thrust as he drove her higher, forcing her into yet another orgasm. He knew she was exhausted, her small body damp and limp against his. Her cries grew smaller and hoarser as he fucked her with long brutal strokes. He knew he should be gentler. Hell, he’d meant to bring his wife back and make slow, sweet love to her; prove that he could be civilized. But once he held her in his arms, something snapped, the darkness crept back in. He wanted to own every piece of her, inside and out. Show her exactly who she belonged to. Stamp his ownership on every inch of her body.
She lolled in his arms like a doll, her limbs splayed in abandon over his arms and legs as he fucked into her over and over. Breaths puffed in and out of her, causing her small, round breasts to jiggle with each sharp intake of air. He knew he was a monster, a product of his fucked-up childhood, where it was fuck or be fucked, kill or be killed, but he couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. He owned Natasha. For better or worse, she belonged to him. He was her master. Forever.
He could feel his balls tightening. She whimpered as his cock flared within her tight, heated passage. He knew it wasn’t fair to ask more of his precious dancer. He didn’t care. He wanted everything. Every last bit of her. Every ounce of passion she had left to give. It all belonged to him. He tipped her back, reached between their bodies and pressed his fingers against the slippery, engorged over-sensitized bundle of nerves, sending her screaming into another spectacular, shimmering orgasm. Her hands clenched helplessly in his hair as tears escaped her beautiful eyes and she jerked in his arms. David could tell that her final orgasm was both intensely wonderful and painful as she went completely limp, seconds away from passing out from the overwhelming sensations coursing through her small body.
He slammed his cock deep into her tight, silken clasp one last time, grunting his satisfaction as he buried his head in her damp neck and spurted hot semen through her tight cervix as she lay helpless in his arms. He had to force himself to loosen his grip, knowing she would probably have bruises by morning. At least they would be marks of passion this time, instead of anger. He shook his head, forcing back unfamiliar feelings of guilt that threatened to invade the peace that enveloped the two of them. A log fell in the fireplace, drawing his attention to the crackling fire that now burned lower.
He looked down at Natasha, tracing the delicate features that had enthralled entire audiences before she had even finished her teens. She had grown, and would most likely continue to grow, more beautiful with time. The sweep of her dark lashes, the width of her lips, the height of her cheeks and the arch of her brows all came together to create an artistry of features that every man would covet. It made David want to keep her hidden from the world. It brought forth the cruel ache that made him want to shake her awake and demand once more she go over each and every detail of their time apart. He still had trouble believing she spent the entire two years alone, without male companionship. Such beauty as hers called to the opposite sex.
Yet, he knew, without a doubt that she could not lie to him. Her mind was an open book. Every truth was laid bare. It was the beauty that was his Natasha. More so than the physical that she could also lay claim to. She had not strayed from her husband.
His arms tightened fractionally for a second, causing her brow to wrinkle in sleep and a whimper of protest to slip from her lips as she felt the cage trapping her once more. She rolled onto her side, curling a hand underneath her chin. He lightly moved the mahogany hair that had fallen across her face and tucked it behind one pert ear so he could watch her slumber. He could not think of another man holding her; taking what belonged to him. The outcome was devastating. It was possible he might have actually killed his wife if that had been her truth. Yet, how was that possible? He did not have the depth of feeling for such a course of action, did he? It had been beaten out of him years ago in his youth. He did not love his wife. No, what he felt was obsession.
David stood and bent over his wife, gathering both her and the blankets beneath her in his arms. He gently carried her into the bedroom, careful not to wake her as she slept in his arms oblivious of his dark thoughts
Chapter Eighteen
“The toast is burning.”
Natasha watched his mouth move. God, he had such a beautiful mouth. Which was odd because his lips weren’t full or bowed like hers. They were thinner, harder and capable of such cruelty. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure why she thought his mouth was so lovely. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes trying to decide why she thought this fact was true. It was probably a combination of the perfect amount of lines fanning out from the edges of his mouth, combined with the almost imperceptible movements when he was thinking. And that sexy little scar.
David rarely spoke unless he had something important to say and when he wasn’t speaking his mouth remained immobile unless he was looking at Natasha. She was one of the few people that could draw emotion from him. Hmm, now that she thought about it, she was pretty sure she was the only person that drew emotion from him.
Oh, his mouth was moving!
“Natasha!” he said sharply, “The toast is burning!”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, startled, and whirled around to stare at the toaster oven like she’d never seen it before.
He sighed, pushed his chair back from the table and strode over to the counter. He quickly turned the toaster off and opened the lid, maneuvering her to the side when smoke billowed out. She stared up at him and gave him a guilty grin when he raised an eyebrow and glanced at the black toast.
“How exactly did you survive on your own, woman?” he demanded, his sexy accent caressing the last word.
She shivered against the arm that was curved around her waist. It was the first time he’d commented on their time apart in a light-hearted way. She met his eyes, quirked her lips and said with a light laugh, “I didn’t eat toast?”
He tickled her ribs and said, “No wonder you are so scrawny.” Then he pushed her away, threw out the burnt toast and set about making them a proper breakfast. Natasha set the table, poured coffee and chattered about the snowy weather while he cooked. Neither of them broached the topic they both knew she actually wanted to discuss; his career.
The closest she came to touching on the subject was to ask him what he planned on doing for the day. Something she hadn’t done in the entirety of their month together in the cabin. Somehow, she’d known not to ask him what he did all day. For one thing, she knew. She wasn’t stupid. He was either cleaning his weapons, checking his weapons or out purchasing new weapons which he brought back to the cabin to dismantle and clean. When he wasn’t doing a weapons check, he was working his body into peak physical condition either in the confines of the cabin with the kitchen table pushed to the side or out in the chilly coldness of the mountain air. And when he wasn’t dealing with weapons or sculpting his incredible body into ridiculous god-like fitness he was on his laptop, connected via satellite, doing… well, she wasn’t entirely certain, but she suspected it had to do with his work.
So, when she asked him what his plans were for the day, like a normal wife might, he raised his head, arched a brow and thinned those gorgeous lips. “Why do you want to know, Natasha?” he asked in a low growl.
Oh oh, was she in trouble?
And dam
n, did that accent have to go straight to her girl parts every single time? Why? Just… why? It was the same damn accent as hers! Or it would be if she hadn’t managed to disguise hers better than him. So unfair! She squirmed in her seat a little, sighed and finally mumbled, “Never mind,” then sprang to her feet, collected the dishes and headed for the sink. Yes, it was a cop out, and yes, she really did want to know what he was doing. And no, he probably wasn’t going to kill her at this point if she pissed him off. But she really didn’t want to upset the domestic bliss that was hovering on their horizon. Not after everything they’d achieved. Didn’t she deserve a little happiness?
Yes. Yes, she did!
With that thought Natasha washed their breakfast dishes, left them in the rack to dry and made her way into her studio to warm up. She could feel David’s eyes tracking her. She glanced back at him, their gazes clashing for a charged second as she placed her hand against the edge of the door and closed the heavy panel against him. They both knew the storm was coming. She wouldn’t keep the peace for long. Just as she hadn’t left well enough alone two years ago, she wouldn’t leave the current delicate balance untouched. She would shatter the ice that stood between them, demand he give her everything.
She just hoped it didn’t kill her.
Natasha warmed up with slow, absent movements, pulling her limbs into their familiar routine of stretches. Normally she would have left the door open so she could watch David as he went about his daily routine, but today she didn’t want to know what he was up to.
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