Elena thought she would die when he traced his fingers along the line of the elastic at the top of the pajama pants, then slipped them just underneath and stilled. No. No, keep moving. He was asking for her permission.
“Yes.” She had no other possible answer. Her body was screaming for his blood, for his touch, for anything he’d give her.
His lips grazed the skin of her neck, and she trembled, thrills shooting through her, pooling low in her body. And then he moved his hand, pausing right at the top of her curls, then tracing lightly back up in a maddening, erotic retreat. He smiled against her neck as she shuddered.
“So responsive,” he said. “You’re going to come so hard. You need to come hard, don’t you?”
Holy crap. How was she supposed to answer that? “I…”
Nikolai’s hand glided down again, this time dipping all the way between her legs, and her body jerked at the contact. Current buzzed through her. He paused and simply pressed his hand against her. “Just one hand this time, but imagine how it will feel when I use my whole body.”
She bit her lip and groaned at the image his words produced. The pressure was perfect, and she rocked against his hand. She’d never felt like this, not that she’d had tons of experience, but she’d had enough to know this wasn’t normal. She rocked against him again, and he chuckled. He thrust his erection against her backside and made a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest, causing her to nearly reach her breaking point.
Too much. It was too much. But not enough, somehow. Then he trailed his hand lower and slid a finger between her folds, then deep inside her. This time she groaned along with him.
“Imagine my tongue right…” He slid his finger out and straight to her most tender spot. “Here.” Then he applied pressure, making small circles.
Tiny electric pulses shot through her, and she gasped for air.
His lips tickled her ear as he spoke. “One hand and your mind is all it takes—your brilliant, inventive mind. Imagine what our bodies could do together. Think of the possibilities, Elena.”
But she couldn’t think of anything. She was so close. She could only feel his talented fingers between her legs, his big body at her back, and his warm breath on her neck.
Relentlessly, he circled with his fingers until she thought she might scream, and then he pressed his palm against her as a finger slid deep inside, and out, again and again. Then another finger joined the first, and he pushed deeper.
“So wet,” he whispered.
She pushed back against his hand, setting a tempo that he followed perfectly, keeping just the right amount of pressure.
He was too much. His voice, his words, his touch. Too much.
The rhythm of his breathing matched hers, and it thrilled her to know he was turned on, too. She increased the speed as she bucked into his hand, his fingers filling her and his palm pushing hard against her, causing the most amazing friction. And faster still.
“So close,” he whispered. “It’s right there. You’re ready.”
And she was.
“You need this,” he said. “Come for me now.”
And she did, shattering into a million pieces as she screamed his name.
Nikolai had dreamed about what his fated mate would be like since he was a boy. Before his father’s murder, he had always imagined she would have the attributes of his mother: beautiful, loving, and fiercely loyal. Loyal? No. His mother was the worst kind of traitor.
For twenty years, he’d pushed his mother out of his mind and his heart. She had no place there now. Not when he held Elena in his arms. His mate, who exceeded all expectations.
He couldn’t pull her any closer, but he tried. He wanted to melt into her limp body, still quaking with aftershocks, and become one with her—a sentiment he’d never had in his many centuries of life. But this was how it was supposed to be with the mate fate had assigned. Human. Vampire. At this moment, it didn’t matter. She was his—even if she didn’t fully know it yet.
He kissed her shoulder and then pulled the bearskin up to her neck. “Better?”
She nodded.
She’d called his name out in passion. No greater aphrodisiac existed. He wanted to bring her to climax all over again if for no other reason than to hear her cry his name again. But there were other reasons. He wanted to please her. To see her happy.
She rolled in his arms to face him, placing her hands on his chest. He could feel her intent before her muscles contracted, and he placed his hand over both of hers. “No. Just enjoy the moment.” Her brow furrowed. “Sleep in my arms. That wasn’t intended to prompt an act in kind.”
“But I want…”
He placed his finger over her lips. “I know. And the fact that you want to touch me is enough for now.” The look of disappointment in her eyes tugged at his heart. “I want to be whole when we’re together. I need to heal.”
She sighed and rolled back over again, and more than ever he regretted the circumstances. He finally had broken through and now had to put it on hold because somehow the wood elves had allied with his uncle and had blasted him full of bullets. He kissed her neck and draped his arm across her body. “Sleep. When night comes, I’ll light a fire, and we can talk.”
“What about?”
He had no fucking idea, but there was nothing more interesting in the world to him than this woman. He wanted to know everything about her. What she liked to eat, her favorite music, the sounds she would make when he was finally deep inside her. Everything. Needing to feel her silky skin, he slid his hand under the hem of her shirt. “Does there have to be an agenda? Can’t we just talk?” She trembled as he cupped her breast. “Do you need to come again?”
She shook her head.
“I’m sorry that I’m injured.”
“It’s my fault,” she whispered.
He nestled into her hair and consciously relaxed, willing his body to heal. “No. We’re in this together. No fault.” Hand still molded over her breast, he reveled in the warmth of her body and the strength of her spirit. Perhaps fate wasn’t such a bitch after all.
Chapter Twelve
It was pitch black when Elena awoke with a start. She lay perfectly still, waiting for the fog of sleep to clear so she could orient herself, which seemed to be harder to do each time she woke.
Nikolai’s big body was wrapped around her still. She smiled at the wicked things she knew he could do with that body. “Imagine the possibilities,” he had said. Yeah, and yum.
He made a hissing sound though his teeth and stirred, which caused him to groan. He must have been in pain. Well, of course he was. He’d been shot full of bullets. She’d only been shot twice, and it had been unbearable. She couldn’t even imagine dozens of wounds. Why hadn’t Aleksandra healed him as he had healed her? Perhaps she needed the power to heal herself, or maybe it would leave an energy trail. He groaned. Poor Nikolai.
Poor Nikolai? What a strange turnaround. Her captor had become the object of her sympathy. How messed up was that?
“Elena,” he murmured, then rolled to his back, sound asleep.
He’d said her name. Was he dreaming about her? Imagining all the things her mind had conjured that they could do together?
“Elena,” he said again.
A rush of power filled her. She rolled over to face him in the pitch blackness, tucking in close to conserve heat.
Tentatively, she placed her hand on his chest, and his even, rhythmic breathing stopped. “It’s only me,” she whispered. Still, he held his breath.
She ran her hand gently across his chest, grazing a nipple with her fingertips, and he inhaled sharply. He was awake. She smiled even wider.
Her near-death experience, well, experiences, had weighed in and taught a powerful lesson. Take advantage of opportunity while you have it, and what an opportunity this was—a naked god of a man was in bed with her. A man who had made her see stars the last time he touched her. What kind of fool would pass that up? Not Elena Arcos, for sure, she decided, t
railing her hand below his sternum toward his navel.
His muscles tensed under her touch, which made her one step short of insane. His warm, hard body, in combination with the lingering scent of his blood, made him more irresistible than Aunt Uza’s dark chocolate brownies—and she could eat a whole plate of those.
This level of pure desire shocked her. Sure, she’d experienced a tingle now and then with her ex, but this was absolute raw need, and it caused her whole body to feel electrified and achy.
She trailed her hand lower and traced the trail of crisp hairs leading to…
“Stop,” he said, gently placing his hand over hers.
No. Just, no. “Why?” She wished she could see his face so she could read his emotions, or at least get a glimpse of them. Why would he reject her?
He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m still healing.” He slipped out of the bed, and she felt cold all over, inside and out.
Tucking into a ball, she bit down her hurt. He didn’t want her. Of course he wouldn’t. She would eventually be a vampire, which repulsed him. But then, why had he…?
The match he struck over at the stove seemed as bright as a lamp, which gave her a clear view of an impressive erection indicating she didn’t repulse him. Nope. Not at all.
He opened the door to the Franklin stove and held it to some twigs he had placed in there earlier along with some logs over the wet and bloody clothes. With a slight brightening and a crackle, one ignited. He closed the front of the stove, plunging them back into blackness.
“No light at night. No fire during the day. We’ll get it warm enough to sustain us through another day if Aleksi doesn’t come before then.”
Aleksi. Of course. That’s why he stopped her even though it was obvious he wanted her. When asleep, he might call Elena’s name, but awake, he was Aleksandra’s. Elena felt like someone was standing on her rib cage.
“How are you feeling? How is the blood lust?”
And that, too. He didn’t want her to bite him. “Inconsequential.”
“That’s too bad.” He opened the door to the stove, revealing a nice, bright fire and the fact that he was still sporting a huge erection. He closed the door and then slipped back into bed with her. His movements were stiff and his skin cold.
“Too bad?” she repeated, squeezing her eyes shut against the sting of tears. He hated vampires. Turning into one would repulse him. Why was losing the blood lust bad?
He grabbed her by the middle and pulled her against him under the thick blankets and fur. “Terrible. I was hoping to distract you again.”
What the hell? He was the most confusing person ever. He could touch her, but she couldn’t touch him? Wow. A jolt of thrill shot straight between her legs. Shit.
What was it about opportunities she had learned? Oh yeah. To take advantage of them.
“It would warm us up,” he whispered, gently nipping her earlobe. “By the time the fire heats this room, we will be throwing off covers.” He slipped his hand under her pajama shirt. “What do you think?”
She took in a deep breath and held it.
His warm hand slid over her rib cage and lightly skittered over a breast, causing her body to contract. “Oh yeah. You think it’s a great idea.” He trapped her nipple between his fingers and pinched just enough to set her on fire, then chuckled as a pitiful squeak erupted from her, despite her best efforts to contain it. “You think it’s the best idea in the world, but this time, I use only my mouth.”
Holy crap.
“Does that appeal?”
She squeaked again, and he laughed. Perhaps his goal was to drive her completely mad. All he had to do was talk and she was lost.
He moved his hand to her other breast and pinched the nipple, and she gasped. He put his lips to her ear. “Sorry. I had to be fair and not leave that one out. Hands-free from this point on, okay?”
She almost whimpered when he pulled away. The complete darkness made it so that she couldn’t really tell what he was doing, which added an element of surprise—like she needed any more surprises. The man was a living, breathing study in the unexpected.
He remained completely still, not touching her, which caused her to squirm. “Now, were it warm in here, Elena, I would go about this in a completely different manner. I would start and end the same way, though.”
She found herself breathing so hard she was sure she’d hyperventilate.
His deep voice felt like fingers on her body, tickling over her skin until she had to squirm. “Do you want me to tell you about it?” he asked.
God. He said he’d only use his mouth. Surely he didn’t mean by talking…though, at this point, she was so worked up, it might do the trick. “Yes.”
“Well, it would start by my kissing you until you begged me to—” She scooted closer, wedging up against him, and he backed away to where they weren’t touching. “No, no. My mouth only. Be still.”
This would kill her—all one hundred trillion cells in her body would kick off simultaneously if he didn’t touch her. She was sure of it.
“Now this first part, the kissing, I can do even with it cold in here.”
Thank God.
She felt him shift. She was pretty sure he was kneeling near her elbow, but the infuriating lack of light kept her uncertain, which increased her excitement even more. Her nipples tingled and her breasts ached with every breath—well, with every pant. She crossed her legs and clamped her thigh muscles tight to alleviate the building pressure.
“Please,” she whispered.
He made a tsking sound. “Oh, Elena. You’re doing this all out of order. First, I kiss you, and then you beg.”
“Then do it!”
He chuckled and the bed shifted again. She could feel his breath on her lips. And then his tongue—only his tongue as it swept over her lips like lipstick. Or crack. Dang. The guy was a drug. She needed him. More of him. She wove her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth down hard to hers and he froze.
Shit. What now?
“What was our strategy, Elena?”
For someone who couldn’t catch her breath, her voice was plenty breathy. “Strategy?”
“I told you how this would happen. I would bring you pleasure using what?”
She was certain she’d die before his strategy ever came into play. She recrossed her legs with the other one on top and squeezed hard. “Your mouth.”
He took her hand in his. “And this is?”
“Not your mouth.”
After kissing the top of her hand, he turned it over and kissed the inside of her palm, making her mind run crazy circles with images of where else he might put those lips. “Clever girl.” He reached over her and felt down her arm in the darkness and took her other hand in his. “I’m going to help you now, so we’re not interrupted again by things that are not my mouth.” Then, he bound her wrists together with…the cord? “Keep your hands above your head or I stop, do you understand?”
Her heart leapt into hyperdrive. Not from fear, but from raw, undiluted desire. She needed this man so badly it hurt. “Yes.”
“Where was I? I was going to kiss you first, which would have been my plan whether it was warm enough to throw off all of these blankets or too cold to be naked, like it is now.”
Somehow, it didn’t seem too cold to be naked anymore. In fact, her skin felt hot.
Again, he traced her lips with his tongue, and she fought to keep her bound arms above her head. Not being allowed to touch him, coupled with not being able to see him was maddening.
He pulled away for a moment as if testing to see if she’d break his rule, and then his lips met hers with none of the gentleness he’d just shown. His mouth crushed hers. Possessed it, their tongues tangling in a tempo that reminded her of the rhythm he used with his hand the last time. When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily, too.
“Is this where I beg?” she asked. “Because I’ll totally do that. This is going to kill me.”
“You do realize
that the orgasm is also referred to as the ‘little death,’ don’t you? Saying this will kill you is almost a statement of fact. A prediction even. And here, I thought you didn’t have any special powers.”
“Do you always talk this much?” For a moment, she was worried she’d offended him, but to her relief, he kissed her again until she was breathless.
“Yes, I always talk this much, because what goes on in your mind contributes as much to the experience as what I do to your body. I want you right here with me, mind and body.”
“I’m here.”
“Good. Would you like to hear what I would do to you if it were not cold and I could strip that bearskin from you and have you naked?”
A thrill at the image of him ripping the covers off shot through her body. She shuddered.
“Mmm. I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, slipping back in under the covers but not touching her. “First, I’d kiss my way down from your neck to your breasts, which need a lot of attention, don’t they?”
She couldn’t lie still, and suddenly the cord around her wrists was a burden. She bent her elbows.
“No. Arms stay up, Elena. I’d be working on your breasts right now, and your hands would be contrary to my mouth-only rule.” He chuckled when she growled. “And then, I’d move lower, down your ribs, across the beautiful, smooth skin of your stomach to your belly button. I’d have to stick my tongue in your belly button of course.”
“Of course,” she said, running the image through her head. Her whole body tightened and thrummed with desire. Thank goodness she hadn’t died in that convenience store or she’d have missed this.
He eased out from under the covers again, and the cord tugged at her wrists as he moved to the extent of its length. “And that is where the two plans converge and end the same way.”
She had no doubt how it would end. This amazing, masterful, talented man was going to take her to the absolute height of ecstasy. With only his mouth. She groaned as he pulled the covers up from the bottom of the bed only as far as her knees and sat at the foot.
Love Me to Death (Underveil) Page 11