As she chewed, a faraway look clouded her eyes.
“What is it?” he prompted.
She took a moment to finish her bite and dabbed the edge of her napkin to the corner of her mouth. “I was remembering when I was a youngling during a time before the invasion. It was the annual Family meal. We sat in the far corner and my parents were arguing, so I slipped away and joined some of my friends. We wanted to see the Komutani and his mate.
“They sat on the dais with silks all around them. We crept closer, keeping to the shadows, as we watched the regal display. She was so beautiful, with eyes heavily kohled and a shiny jewel dangled on her forehead. Her sons Aleksi and Sakir sat to her left; you could see their love and adoration of their nan. And Komutani, he’d been serving her just like you did for me, now.” She tipped her head to look at him and he saw a shimmer of joy in the depths of her gaze. “Every young female dreams of being the kraliçe, mated to our leader. Adored, revered. I could see the way the Komutani was drawn to her, wanted to care for her, protect her. As I grew up and the realities of life kicked in, I became aware of the fact that all of that was only a fantasy.”
He caught her hand and brought it up, pressed a kiss to the warm skin there. “I’m not royal but I will always treat you like my queen, my kraliçe.” On impulse, he scooted the chair out and tugged her from her seat. With purposeful steps, he led them to the living room. Once there, he grabbed all the cushions from the couch and arranged them on the floor in a neat little pile. “I don’t have any silks or jewels for you to wear, but I can serve you, kjaere.”
Turning on his heel, he started for the dining room, eager to bring the food to her.
“Stop,” she commanded and he froze mid-step, turning to face her.
She kicked off her shoes, set them aside and nibbled on the corner of her mouth. Cocking her head, she patted the bolster beside her. “Sit with me.”
It took only a second for him to do so, dropping to his knees next to her. “Nadia?”
“I don’t want to wait anymore,” she whispered but the gravity of her statement was loud and clear.
He touched his fingers to her chin, dragged his thumb along the seam of her lips. “What do you want, then?”
Her lower lip trembled. “Do I have to say it? Isn’t it obvious?” She pinned him with wide, wide eyes, full of fear and need. And, desire.
With a little shift of his weight, he slipped closer to her, his thigh against hers. He pressed his palm to her cheek, his fingers speared into the silk of her hair. She leaned her head into his hand, so trusting and yet so innocent. Yes, she needed to say it because the urges slamming into him had need lighting up in his veins. If all she wanted was to stay right there and kiss, she had to tell him. If she simply longed to lie there arm in arm, spooning before the unlit fireplace, he’d oblige that, too. But if she wanted more. If he so much as dared to imagine that she wanted….everything, then all bets were off. His control was fraying by the second and only her words could reel in the primal beast roaring to pin her down and make her his.
He dragged his knuckles along the ridge of her cheekbone feeling the warmth of her blush heating his skin. With his fingertip, he traced the whorl of her ear and watched her eyelids flutter, drooping with the gentle strokes. “Tell me.” He cupped the back of her neck and brought her close, pressing his lips to her temple. The perfume on her skin, a mix of flowers and woman, teased his senses, drugging him with her unique scent. Hell, he wanted her so damned much. It’d take a Herculean effort to hold back, to keep himself under control. Dammit, he would find some way to give her what she wanted, what they both wanted, without risking her life.
He would!
Gentle fingers slid across his shoulder and up the line of his throat, to his jaw and her thumb traced the curve of his chin. She directed him with the slightest pressure, turning his face until their mouths were only an inch apart. Those long eyelashes swept down again as she blinked, focusing on him. When she licked her lips, a low rumble echoed in his chest. It was damned sexy watching her tongue play across the pink flesh there.
Closing the distance, he brushed his lips upon hers, fleeting and soft, a tease really, but she inhaled as if surprised and her body shivered. He caught her wrist in his fingers, tugged her close and settled his mouth on hers, this time a moment longer, for the space of a heartbeat, before drawing back and murmuring, “Tell me, so I know when to stop.”
Her entire body went still, rigid. Lips pursed as she shook her head. Her free hand swooped behind his neck, fingers tight as she dragged him forward. She bent her head, touching her forehead to his. They were utterly close. Fully clothed. And yet their intimacy shook him to the core. In her gaze, he saw absolute surrender to him. Adoration. Need. When she licked her lips again, slow and enticing, she exhaled and whispered, “Gunnar, there is no stop.”
Chapter Eighteen
Animalistic growls tore from his throat. He caught her thigh in one hand and tugged it from beneath her. The other followed in a flash, and he had her on her back, sprawled beneath him before he could draw in a lungful of air. She reached up to touch his face but he grabbed her hand and brought it above her, pinning it against the floor. “Not yet,” he warned in a rough pitch, grating and thick. She nodded, her chest rising and falling with tense inhalations. At her throat, her arteries pulsed and throbbed like a lure, and his mouth watered, flooding with the bitter tinges of serum. He swallowed it down, ignoring the scorch burning his throat. That potent fluid meant he’d reached a point where mating her became a biological instinct. It meant she’d be his forever. Pushing the tempting thought to the farthest recesses of his mind, he fought his nature. Do not risk her life, he warned himself, but it did nothing to abate the fire raging in his blood, spurring him into a frenzy of lust.
Watching her beautiful face, he fingered the buttons on her blouse and plucked them open. He exposed the satin of her bra and the silky-smooth skin he yearned to explore. Each rapid inhalation lifted her breasts in a teasing display. Bending close, he pressed his lips to the ridge of her collarbone, nuzzled the warm skin. The hint of sweet flowers teased him but he couldn’t resist taking in a deeper breath, memorizing the way the little tinges of her unique scent intoxicated him. He could so easily get drunk on her.
One swipe of his tongue on her skin had a bolt of heat careening straight through him, tightening his body to the point of pain. He shackled any more of those urges behind his clenched teeth. Careful, he warned himself. Don’t do anything stupid.
Nadia’s fingers tracked down his cheek, traced his lips back and forth. “You know what I want?” Her words were whispered but he heard the sensuality, the desire coloring every single syllable.
Capturing her fingers in his hand, he held them to his mouth, his tongue tracing the tips. “Tell me.” He watched her closely. A blush stained her cheeks, traveled down her throat.
She drew that plump bottom lip between her teeth but it didn’t stop the curve of her lips or the gleam in her eyes.
He dropped her hand and settled his fingers at her sides, tickled gently. “Tell me, kjaere.”
“Kiss me, Gunnar, make me forget everything but you and me and this moment.” She held her arms out, inviting him to lean against her and hold her close.
He pressed her thighs further apart and settled between, his hips notched to her heated center, her breasts pressed to his chest and their hearts beating in tandem. Slipping an arm beneath her shoulder blades, he cupped the back of her head, fingers tight in her silky curls. The first sweep of their lips had his eyes closing. He teased on the second, holding her still as he dragged his mouth across hers. The third…oh hell…the third, he couldn’t pull away anymore. He fused their mouths, nipping and kissing, touching and tasting. And her tongue darted between his lips seeking entry. He obliged, eager and ready to accept her exploration.
She swiped across his fangs, inciting a groan from his chest. When the heated tip danced across his, stars literally burst behind his eyeli
ds. Holy hell, just this kiss was ripping his restraint to shreds. When he touched her body….when he joined them as one…it’d be ecstasy.
And torture.
Oh God, but he wanted it. And, he wouldn’t stop. Damnit all to hell, he couldn’t stop. Not ever.
Needing to catch his breath and calm the rampaging beast growling for more, he broke the kiss and settled her back on the cushions. He moved to her side, eager to bare her lovely body, to touch every inch of her. Peeling the sweater off, her pretty top came next. In quick motion, he unhooked her bra and slowly pulled the straps away divesting her of that, too.
Cool air hit the reddened tips, the peaks stiffened, and her swollen breasts flushed with arousal. He leaned close, let his breath feather across a rosy nipple. Resting his head above one breast, he watched as he caught the distended flesh between thumb and forefinger, rolling.
Yes! Her pulse kicked up and the distinct whimper reverberating in her chest prodded him to continue. He petted and played, massaged until the full swell grew heavy. Cocking his chin, he glanced at her and licked his lips. “You know what I want to do?”
She arched her back, eyelids fluttering. “Don’t tell me. Just do it.”
He laughed and lifted his head, angling over her breast. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered before taking the swollen bud into his mouth and rasping.
Her cry of surprise quickly turned to a low moan. He sucked. Pulled. Trailed a fang down the tight crest. In a quick move, he slipped to the other side and latched onto the other nipple, suckling and kissing, tasting the heat of her need as it made the skin rigid and puckered. Splaying his hand on her belly, he traced the rim of her belly button, swirled a figure eight right below and came to the firm waistband of her skirt removing it in a flash.
His mouth flooded with more serum, fangs punched from his gums. He winced at the stinging burn. She wore a tiny scrap of lace and pretty garters tied off with pink bows. Her ribbed stockings came to mid-thigh. He left those on because they were so damned sexy. She looked like his every erotic fantasy. And, he didn’t know how he’d keep his demons caged.
“Gunnar, please.” She rocked and bent her knees, heels pushed into the pillows. Then, she parted her legs, wider and that little scrap of nothing just had to come off. He had to see her. To look at the beautiful secrets hidden behind the lace.
The loud crack of thread tearing echoed along with her throaty gasp.
“Kjaere, the first time you reach paradise, I’m going to watch you. I’m going to see every sigh and gasp, look at the way the heat of it stains your cheeks. I want to watch the delight surge through your veins.”
Her lips parted. She undulated and grabbed his hand, pushing it downward to the most female part of her that he’d just exposed. He dragged a finger through her curls, to the distended bundle throbbing like a lure. Pressing down, he held the position until the pulsation increased and her breath froze in her lungs. Inclining his head, he brushed his lips across her hip. A gentle kiss followed at the juncture of her thigh. “The next time, though.” He exhaled against the flushed entrance to her core. “The next time, I will be inside you, so deep, so damned hard. And when you are there, ready to fall over the edge, it will be together.”
With his tongue, he explored, taking the furled bud at the apex of her body into his mouth and suckling, gently at first…but as she thrashed, digging her heels into the floor, he increased the force, lashing his tongue in rapid flickers. Her cries spurred him on and he paired a fingertip with his mouth, teasing her with relentless strokes.
Her fingers caught his arm, nails pricking the skin. “Gunnar!” Her cry was a croak, a plea for more.
When she lifted her hips, rocked against his mouth, Gunnar latched on and rasped, short and long, quick and slow. Her low moan turned to a cry. Her fingers squeezed and the pinprick of pain nearly overset him. He ignored the screaming agony demanding he bite her vein and drink. Instead, he continued on, enticing her with each flick of his tongue.
“Gunnar, it’s—” She whimpered again, cutting off her words. This time, he didn’t let up, instead he worked the sensitive expanse below the rigid bud until her breath caught and her muscles quavered. One long sweep followed and he drew it into his mouth, sucked. Hard.
The beauty of her scream lasted only a moment as her body shimmered, and she fell straight over the cliff into paradise. The scent slammed into his receptors and zoomed through him, ratcheting his need until he went still, clenching every muscle in his body. The pain to take her bludgeoned his senses.
She parted her thighs. A clear invitation for him to move above her, slip inside. The minute he saw the slick entrance, and the damp folds shielding her sex, it lambasted him.
Hunger speared through him, yawning and vicious. Yanking away from her, he slammed his back against the couch and clawed the closest pillow. Clenching his jaw against the sting razing his gums, he shuddered with the ravaging instinct demanding he take her vein, flood her system with serum and mate them irrevocably.
“Gunnar?” She pushed to a sitting position, her hands grabbing his wrists. “What is it?”
He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. If he so much as shifted, he’d lose what little hold he had left on his sanity.
The power of his híbe coalesced as he lost his restraint. Lights flickered on and off and every electrical outlet arced with a dense blue light. He wanted to draw it to him, infuse his veins with it, become invincible. But it wouldn’t help this situation. She posed no threat to him.
Except to his willpower.
The warmth of her skin heated his face as her palms cupped his cheeks, fingers massaging his temples. “You’re in pain.”
He nodded.
“You need to feed?” Something in her voice trembled. “Do you want me to call Erica?” He heard the desperation in her tone, the jealousy, too.
Lacing his fingers around her wrist, he tipped his chin up to meet her beautiful wide eyes. He didn’t hide his fangs, didn’t conceal his transformation from her. “I will only take from you.” It was a promise he vowed to keep. If he couldn’t have Nadia, he’d take from no other.
“Then…” She lifted her hand in front of him.
He leaned his forehead there not able to look at the provoking sight of the thrumming blood coursing through the tempting vein. “I can’t. There’s serum. It’s burning my mouth. It’s so potent I’m even afraid to kiss you again.”
“But, you can drink from me, right?”
In theory, yes. In reality? He’d lose his fucking mind.
“Do you have your ceremonial blade?”
Oh God, he could see where she was going with this. It was going to destroy any humanity he had left keeping him grounded. He swallowed. Again. Maybe if he was so careful. Maybe he could do it without a dagger.
“I’ll do it.” He swallowed again. Miserable son of a bitch, he thought to himself. He’d promised himself not to do anything idiotic and now he was moving into territory he shouldn’t even be exploring.
Her fingers trailed across his jaw, along his lips and down his chin. Then, she pressed her inner wrist to his mouth. “I trust you.”
Fuck. The demons in his psyche took over and in one moment the shift occurred. Any semblance of the militaristic male, restrained and honorable vanished. In its place was the animal. A territorial predator. The vampire starving for his mate’s blood. He didn’t fight it. Didn’t even think about the consequences. He parted his lips, pressed his fangs to the skin and pushed.
She jolted.
Keened.
Swayed into his chest and wrapped her free arm about his shoulders, embracing him to her in a strong, sure hold. He fought instinct, and quickly retracted his fangs from the puncture wounds and waited for the crimson essence to bead on her skin. Tilting her arm just so, he let the warm honeyed flow drizzle into his mouth.
After long minutes, the hunger dimmed, some. He swallowed down one more drought, picked up his wineglass and gulped, swirling the tepid fluid around
until he was sure he’d cleared any serum lingering there. Almost sure. With the swipe of his tongue he quickly sealed the wound, tasting her skin once again. She tasted sweet, of berries, and this time a hint of citrus and jasmine.
Before he could think about his need to bond with her, to bite into his own wrist and let her sip from his vein, he dropped his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, attempting to yank his control back into place.
But it shattered as she found the button on his slacks and tugged it free. The zipper followed and then he was bare to her.
Those inquisitive eyes glanced at his straining length and back at his face. She pursed her lips and a red-hot flush scorched her lovely face. “Help me touch you.” She offered her hand and he captured it in his own, directing them to the jutting erection waiting for her, needing her.
“Like this.” He curled their fingers around the shaft, held tight. Moved up and back.
She experimented with a longer stroke, then short. And, he released his hold, simply let her do whatever she wanted. Each pass of her fingers brought him perilously close to the threshold where he’d fling over into the abyss of absolute, sheer delight. He had her pause long enough to haul his pants off. Taking back his position against the couch, he slipped his legs to the ground, balanced on his palms and speared a fang into the flesh of his cheek, so he could watch her shuttling his throbbing flesh through those manicured fingers.
Up and down.
Over and over.
Until he was arching up and pushing the length through her fist, mimicking the same pace, the same damned cadence he wanted to do within her.
And, that’s when he grabbed her hand, stopping her motion.
He cupped the back of her head, drew her near and kissed her swollen lips.
She mewled as he sucked her lip into his mouth, rasping and nipping. Jerking back, she dragged in a tremulous breath, her body shivering with need.
“I don’t want to wait anymore.” Hitching a leg over his thighs, she settled on her knees, straddling him, hovering so close to the tip of his rigid flesh. She moved over him, nudging the crest against the heated slit until it slipped between.
Mated in Treason Page 21