The woman his father had picked could probably have children.
Oh, ouch.
Jane had thought she’d come to terms with her lack. But now…the thought of starting a family with Nicolai… She wanted that, she realized. Not now, but later. When they were safe. To be with him, to have his child growing inside her… She would never know that joy.
The lack was another reason she’d dumped Spencer when she had. Once, they’d talked about getting married and starting a family, and she’d known how badly he had wanted that. With her, he would never have it. So she’d let him go, knowing he would thank her one day, when he was wed to another woman, his kids running around and laughing in their home.
“After the accident, my body is ruined,” she said, pushing the words past the lump in her throat. “So, you don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant. Ever. And if you want to stop and never take this thing between us any further, I’ll understand.”
He peered down at her, a dark warrior whose ire had been pricked. “Jane?”
“Yes?”
“I want you no matter what. Need you. Never think otherwise.” With that, he gripped her thighs, spread them and surged up, hitting her deep inside with that one powerful thrust.
She forgot her sadness as instant, necessary, all-consuming desire flooded her. He was so big he stretched her; she was so wet, her once-neglected body gave him only minimal resistance.
“Nicolai!” His name, oh, how she loved his name.
“I like this, too,” he said. In and out he moved. “Changed my mind. Like this most.”
Her mind clouded, her nerve endings razed to the point of pleasure-pain, and she screamed. She’d been so turned on, the slightest stroke would have sent her shooting off to the stars. But this…sweet heaven, this.
Oh, God, it was so good, and she was so lost, she never wanted to be found, wanted this forever… Nicolai, Nicolai, hers, always hers. She was babbling to herself, and she knew it, couldn’t control it. Didn’t want to control it. Just wanted more. Of him, of this.
“Shouldn’t bite, must bite.”
“Bite. Please. I’m yours, Nicolai. I’m yours.”
He growled, and then his fangs were in her neck and she was climaxing, squeezing at him, clutching at him. Taking everything he had to give and demanding more. And he gave it to her.
He rode the waves of her satisfaction, thrusting inside her with a fervor that left her breathless. He was all around her, a part of her, the sole light in her world. Drinking, drinking, oh, yes, drinking. Soon she became dizzy, and little doubts peeked from the shadows of her mind, as if they’d been hiding all along, waiting for her defenses to crumble.
Maybe his words—want you no matter what, need you—were preorgasm talk, meant to lure her into bed and keep her from running. Maybe the cloud of desire had been leading him all along. Maybe he would later change his mind about wanting her.
Maybe, when this was over, he would let her go.
No. She fought back. No. This wasn’t temporary. He wouldn’t discard her. Even if he learned the truth about some of the things she’d done to his kind?
Cold, hard reality. Again, she fought back. Nothing would destroy this moment, not even that. Here, pleasure mattered. Only pleasure.
He hooked one of his arms under her knee and lifted, opening her wider, increasing the depths he reached. Instantly her body prepared for yet another climax, needing it just as desperately as the others, as if sex with him was a prerequisite for her survival. She should fear that. She needed him too intently, was no longer complete without him.
Hell, if she left, would she be the one to wither? Had she mated him and just didn’t know it? What did she know about the road to mating? Nothing really.
Nicolai took hold of her other leg and lifted, surging impossibly deeper, and she forgot even that. There was no part of her left untouched. She was Nicolai’s woman, plain and simple, branded by him, a part of him. After this, she would never be the same, didn’t want to be the same.
She sank her nails into his scalp and forced his head up. His teeth slid from her vein. “Nicolai…”
“I’m sorry.” He eyed her, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t mean… Did I take too much?” Agony wafted.
“No.” He could have it all, every last drop. “Kiss me,” she demanded.
“Yes.” He met her halfway. Their lips pressed together, their tongues dueled. His flavor filled her, and this time it was mixed with hers. Together, every part of them together…intoxicating.
“Mine,” she said.
“Yours.”
Forever, she didn’t let herself add, but, oh, did she want to. Later, they would talk. Yes, the dreaded conversation about feeling and intentions. About the future.
The kiss continued, spinning out of control, their teeth scraping together, as he slipped and slid within her. He released one of her legs to move his hand between their bodies, and pressed his thumb against her clitoris. Just like that, she exploded again, spasming around him.
He hissed out a breath, pushed deep once more, and came, every muscle he possessed clenching and unclenching. She’d never made love without a condom, and loved the feel of him jetting inside her.
When he stilled, she wrapped herself around him, holding him as close as possible. He collapsed on top of her, but quickly rolled to relieve the pressure of his muscled weight. They were both sweat soaked and feverish, trembling.
“My Jane,” he said, so much satisfaction in his voice she couldn’t fear the upcoming discussion.
She kissed his shoulder. “My Nicolai.”
Forever.
She hoped.
“Don’t leave…need to talk,” she breathed, just before drifting off to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PANTING, SWEATING, SATED in the most perfect way, Nicolai snuggled Jane in to his side. Her blood flowed through his veins like champagne, bubbling and fizzing, claiming every thought and beating back a painful realization he wasn’t quite ready to face. He wanted to close his eyes and savor, but he had a few things to work out in his mind first.
She’d wanted to talk. About what? If she thought to push him away after what they’d shared… Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
What they’d just done could not be called “sex.”
Sex was an urge. Sex was something you could do with anyone. Sex could be consensual or forced, as he well knew. What they’d done was a mating. Primal, wild, necessary, and as essential as a beating heart.
He would have died if he’d been denied access to her body. He’d simply had to be inside her. Nothing could have stopped him. Not attack, not death, hell, not even her disappearance. If she had returned to her world, he would have found a way to follow her.
There was no resisting this woman, not for him, and he wasn’t going to try anymore. Not in any way. His betrothed might be waiting for him, but so what. Like he’d told Jane, he would have her and no other.
She’d changed him.
When he’d first seen her, scented her, his hunger for her had bloomed. Perhaps he’d become obsessed. Because when he’d watched her being whipped, he’d forgotten his plan to save himself and had gone after her. Then, when he’d heard her scream, had realized the ogres were hurting her, his rage had been unequaled. Seeing her beaten face and body had made a mockery of the rage, however, and he’d become fully beast, his darker nature taking over.
All the times before, he’d only thought he had a temper.
The fighting had ended too early. He’d wanted to torture the king, wanted to keep him at the brink of death and agony for centuries. For Jane’s sake, he’d finished the bastard off and gathered his woman close, just like this.
She had slept then, too, but he hadn’t calmed. The need to brand her, to let the world know exactly who she belonged to, had been driving him as forcefully as the rage had. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt her when he took her—and he’d known he would take her.
S
o he’d brought her here, intending to swim and pacify himself. He’d meant to feed her the fish, as well, but she’d watched him while he’d captured them, and he’d felt the rise of her desire.
He’d forgotten his good intentions. His hope to be careful.
Now he’d had her, had branded her, just as he’d wanted, needed, but he realized even that wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough with her. He would always want her. Always want more.
Were his parents alive, they would understand. He knew this to be true.
He’d loved them, and they had loved him. They would want him to be happy, and he could not be happy without Jane. His father had settled on a neighboring princess only because Nicolai had shown no preference.
Now, he had.
Jane could not have children, and that bothered her, but it did not bother him. He hadn’t lied to her. He liked her just as she was. When Nicolai became king in his father’s stead—the need lit, caught fire—he would be expected to have an heir. But he had three siblings well capable of seeing to that.
So. His new plan of action: secure Jane to his side, return to Elden, kill the Blood Sorcerer who had slain his parents and claim the throne. He didn’t want to wait to discuss this. Urgency rode him. Instinct that drove him to settle things now.
“Jane…”
A moment passed.
“Jane. Sweetheart.” Gently he shook her.
“Yes,” she muttered groggily.
“We will talk now.”
Her slight catch of breath was encouraging. “Really?”
“Yes, really. When you first came to me, you mentioned a book. Where is the book now?”
“Oh. That’s what you want to talk about.” She sounded disappointed. “I left it at the palace in Delfina. I don’t think that matters, though. It was the right book, just newer. And blank.”
He frowned. “When you read it, the story was about me?”
“Yes. About your enslavement. There was a pink bookmark in the middle, and that’s the page that told about your imprisonment. Then, written by the same hand, was a note from you, commanding me to help you, to come to you. The rest of the pages were blank, though.”
He’d wondered before if he’d written the thing and forgotten. For all he knew, the witches had cursed him to forget everything but what they did to him. Why had the ink disappeared when Jane had shown up in Delfina, though? Because she’d arrived before he’d actually written the book? But, if he’d commanded her to come here—commanded her specifically—he would have met her already. And she would have left him.
He tensed. He did not like that notion and he quickly discarded it. He hadn’t said “come back to me.” He’d said “come to me.” So…magic might have shown her to him, and like the book, he’d forgotten.
Still, the fear that he could lose her took root and refused to leave him. “Do you want to stay here with me, Jane?” He geared for battle. A battle he would fight viciously to win. She had a life he knew nothing about, and were the situation reversed, were he stuck in her world, he would have to find a way to leave to avenge his family and home. And he would have stolen away with her, he thought.
Now she was the one to tense. “Okay, I could answer your question with a question of my own. Do you want me to stay? But I won’t. Because I shouldn’t have to qualify my opinion. I’m not a coward.” She licked her lips, as she did each time she felt desire for him, and he felt the hot slide of her tongue on his chest. “So. Here it is. Yes. I want to stay with you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Thank the gods. He had worried for nothing. “I am glad.” Inadequate words. “I want you to stay with me, too.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“Jane, when have I ever just said anything?”
“Well, men say stuff they don’t mean to get women into bed. All the time.”
Some did, yes, but he never had. He’d always been up front, offering a single night of his attention, his body, but nothing else, and no longer. That was it, the end. Although, to get Jane into his bed again, he’d do and say just about anything.
“I will always be honest with you. Always. As long as you desire me. Stop, and I will change my dealings with you.”
She laughed, the sexiest purr he’d ever heard. “Thank you for the warning.”
Having her near him was arousing. Feeling her lick him, more so. But that laugh…he was hard as a rock in seconds. “I want you with me, Jane. In bed and out.”
A tremor drove through her, vibrating into him, relief replacing her humor. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d tried to take away my magic green card. And before you ask, that means get rid of me.”
“Get rid of you? Sweetheart, I’m doing everything in my power to keep you.”
“Really?” Another soft entreaty.
He would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t so happy with her. “Really.”
“Thank you. I mean it. Thank you.”
“And now you thank me. I should be thanking you. And I do. Humbly. You have become the reason I live, Jane.”
He thought he heard her sniffle. She buried her head in the hollow of his neck, rubbing her cheek against him. “So what’s next?”
“I need to return to the kingdom of Elden. I think my siblings are there. Trapped, perhaps. I don’t know. All I know is that, deep down, I am so hungry to slay the new king, I tremble. Like eating, this is a need. I must do it.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll help you.”
He did not want her involved in such a violent, dangerous plan, but he did not want her out of his sight, either. “I need to find a way to keep you bound to me and to this land first. Should I write another book for you?” His magic was stronger now.
“If you do, we will be operating under the assumption that I’ll return, no matter what we do or try.”
“And perhaps such an assumption is what would send you back.” Damn this! There had to be a way. “I wonder what spell I used to bring you here. If I knew, I would know if you would leave after a certain time, or after I am truly free. Or if I bound you to the land forever. I remember so many things, but not that, not yet, and I cannot risk another spell. It might interfere with the first.”
She eased up, her hair tumbling over her bare shoulder, golden moonlight illuminating her. “When I first read the book and realized it wasn’t a joke, I wondered how you could have known me when we’d never met.”
“And you figured out the answer.” His words were a statement, not a question. He’d known his woman was smart. She was the perfect combination of beauty and intelligence.
“Yes. I dreamed of you before I ever read the book. Saw you chained, but never spoke to you. Now I think they were visions rather than dreams.”
“But why have visions of me before I used my magic?”
“Maybe part of me crossed into this world long ago. Some things are familiar to me, like the ghost trees and ogres. Maybe you saw me, too, and that’s how your magic knew to focus on me.”
“That makes sense, but I wonder how you crossed over.”
She gulped. “I…I…”
He reached up to cup her cheek. “Don’t fear, Jane. We will figure this out. You won’t leave. I won’t let you.”
“There’s something I should tell you. About me. My job. You might change your mind about me.” She traced the tip of her finger along his sternum. “I said I wasn’t a coward and that means full disclosure, even about this. The things I did, horrible things, to learn about your—”
“I told you before, Jane, that your job—” A pang exploded through his head, silencing him, reminding him of what had happened after he’d fought the ogres here in this very spot. The same spot he’d first drunk from Jane. Pain, then opening his eyes in a new location.
He grunted. What was…? Another pang, this one rattling his brain against his skull.
The cage holding his memories and abilities was crumbling, bit by bit.
“What’s wrong?” Jane eased to her elbow and smoothed his hair from his brow, her expression soft and luminous with concern. “Are you sick?”
Her emotions were in turmoil, yet she cast aside her own concerns to nurture him. No wonder he’d fallen for her so quickly and so easily. “Drinking your blood empowers me as never before,” he confessed, “but as more of my memories and abilities escape, I experience a…wee little pinch of sensation.”
Even as he spoke, one of those “wee little pinches” migrated from his head to his chest, and he hissed a breath. That one had been stronger than any of the others.
“Oh, Nicolai. Now I know why you were reluctant to drink from me. I’m so sorry I made you.”
“I’m not. And you didn’t make me, Jane. I wanted to. Badly. Besides, that isn’t why. Want you healthy.”
A sound of frustration. “Now you’re doing what you said you wouldn’t, and weaving pretty words to make me happy.”
Another pang, another grunt.
“What can I do? Besides never feed you again?”
“Stay with me. And you will feed me again.” Every day for eternity. “This will pass.”
“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “Don’t worry. And, Nicolai, we’ve never talked about my job before.”
“We haven’t? You researched…experimented…” What kind and on who were answered inside his mind, but he was having trouble reaching the information.
The color drained from her face. “That’s right. And you still like me?”
“Jane…”
“Yes, of course. We’ll discuss it when you’re better.” A pause. Then a whispered, “Could we have talked in my visions? Could I have forgotten conversations? Could whatever magic was used on you bleed into me?” She was talking to herself, trying to reason things out.
“Yes,” he replied, anyway. “There’s a chance.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll be quiet. You rest.”
Trusting her, he closed his eyes, breathed slowly, deeply, and simply let the memories come. The first to hit him was of a pretty maid quietly entering his bedroom. Hinges squeaked as his gaze sought her. He didn’t know her name, only that he’d smiled at her earlier that day, and she’d taken that smile for the invitation it was. He was lying on his mattress of plush goose feathers, naked, waiting. She stripped as she approached him.
Lord of the Vampires and The Darkest Angel and The Amazon's Curse and The Darkest Prison Page 15