Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  “I love what you’re thinking.” Natalya framed his face with both hands. “I really do.” She punctuated it with small kisses and teasing nibbles on his lips. “But I want all of your attention on making love to me. The actual making love to me, not thinking about how much you love me.” She gave him a small sexy smile. “You can do the thinking about loving me so much afterward.”

  Amusement crept into his eyes, stealing her breath. “You want the actual thing?”

  She nodded.

  “My entire attention?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You are a demanding little thing.”

  “High-maintenance. I told you.” She went up on her toes to kiss him. She loved kissing him, loved the silken heat of his mouth. She could stay there for eternity.

  Vikirnoff drifted on a rising tide of lust and love. He let the feel of her skin, the brush of her hair and the fire of her mouth take him over. Electricity arced from Natalya to him. Flames raced over his body and poured like molten lava into his veins. His every nerve ending leapt to life, craving her. His fingers tangled in her hair, his mouth devouring hers, wanting more. Needing more.

  “Vikirnoff.” She murmured his name, breathed it into the heat of his mouth. Her voice was soft and sensual, her lips swollen with his kisses and her vivid eyes dark with desire.

  His body was as hard as a rock, painfully full. She could do that to him so easily. All of his centuries-old control seemed to vaporize when his mouth was on hers. He dispensed with her clothing in caveman style, jerking the material off her in strips, exposing the rise and fall of her breasts, the tight beckoning nipples, the globes of her buttocks and the invitation glistening at the junction of her legs.

  He blazed a path from her lips to her breast, his mouth clamping greedily, teeth scraping and teasing while his tongue laved and soothed. She cried out, stunned pleasure on her face. His hand caressed her belly, touched her small golden hoop, and moved lower. The moment his fingers brushed her wet mound, her entire body shuddered, a low moan escaping.

  “You are so hot, Natalya.” His fingers plunged deep, felt the contraction of her tight muscles, hot and moist and so velvet soft. His erection, heavy and thick, pulsed with the need to be buried deep inside her, surrounded by her feminine sheath.

  She bucked against him, a helpless thrusting of her hips, riding his hand with a small sob of pleasure. Vikirnoff couldn’t stand it anymore and lowered her to the floor, hanging onto enough of his intellect to remember at the last moment to cushion her with something soft between her body and the cave floor. His mouth found hers again, feeding on her taste, the sweetness he could never quite get enough of.

  She groaned into his mouth, and fire raced over him, hot and pure, his body hardening past the point of pain. He kissed her throat, her breasts, spent time on her small golden ring, teeth tugging and teasing and returning to her hard nipples. She gasped when his hands parted her thighs, his fingers stroking so close to her heated center that her body shuddered and her muscles clenched with a need so agonizing tears shimmered in her eyes.

  “Please, Vikirnoff. I need this. I need you.”

  That soft little plea was more than he could stand. He bent his head and lapped at the welcoming liquid. Her body jerked beneath his hands and his tongue speared deep. She screamed, her hips bucking but he pinned her with hard fingers, holding her to him to drive his tongue hard and deep.

  Stars seemed to explode around her, lights dazzled her. Natalya couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t think. Her body fragmented, shattered her so that she thought she might die from sheer pleasure. He didn’t stop, teasing her with lightning-quick flicks of his tongue, stroking the hot knots of nerve endings into another hard release that left her lungs burning and her head spinning.

  He heard her cries, felt her fists tugging at his hair, her body thrashed beneath him but he couldn’t stop, craving the honey from her body, her screams of pleasure that only fed the building inferno in his body. He suckled her, tongue thrusting and probing, forcing her body into another tier of sensation where she could only mindlessly plead with him and her body was slick and hot with the shocks of multiple orgasms.

  Vikirnoff rose over her, his eyes black with hunger, a snarl of possession on his lips. His hands kept her thighs apart as he pressed against her pulsing entrance. Natalya could feel the thick head entering her with excruciating slowness. He seemed far too big for her, even as slick as she was and with her nerve endings so sensitized she could only wail at the intensity of the pleasure engulfing her.

  “Hurry. Please. Hurry, hurry.” It was a mindless chant, her head thrashing back and forth, her body in a frenzied grip of need. The loss of control was so shocking, frightening even. She could only hang onto him for an anchor in reality as he took her over the edge of reason.

  He gave one powerful thrust, surging forward, burying himself deep, stretching her tight muscles impossibly, driving into her hot core. She screamed again, her body convulsing instantly around his, inner muscles squeezing so powerfully, he nearly lost control. Her nails bit deep into his shoulders and her hips jerked beneath him.

  Vikirnoff clamped his fingers around her wrists and slammed them to the cavern floor, holding her helpless beneath his assault, his body relentless, using a hard, merciless tempo, pounding into her over and over.

  His face was edged with lust, his eyes dark with hunger and need as his mouth found her throat. Natalya couldn’t think past the pleasure/pain of his body taking hers with such wild abandon. She felt the sharp sting of his teeth at her throat and it only increased her pleasure until she thought she might die with it. His teeth scraped back and forth at the swell of her breast, just above her heart, and then sank deep.

  Her body imploded, splintered and shook with the force of her orgasm. His fingers tightened in hers, holding her beneath him, his body building and building with the force of his need. She felt him in her mind, sharing the taste of her, the pleasure rocking him, and then his tongue swept across her breast.

  “Taste me, Natalya.” His voice was harsh, sexy with his lust. “Come to me now. Come into my world.” It wasn’t a plea, it was a command. His hands tightened around her wrists. He didn’t help her, his chest above her mouth, his body so tight it stretched hers to the limit. “Damn it, woman. Do it now.”

  She was desperate for relief. If he kept pounding into her she wasn’t going to live through the night. Could a woman die of pleasure? In any case, her incisors had already lengthened and her body gushed with anticipation, making her sheath so hot and slick it only allowed him deeper until she thought he would climb into her womb. She licked across the heavy muscles of his chest and sank her teeth deep. At once his ancient blood poured into her like flowing nectar. His body thickened, hardened, pistoned into hers without mercy. His erotic images and his overwhelming pleasure burst through her mind even as her own muscles tightened around him, gripping him desperately.

  She drank, choked, swept her tongue across him to close the pinpricks. Nothing could stop the forceful driving of his body into hers. Her orgasm ripped through her, somewhere between pain and pleasure, rocking her body, the shudders refusing to stop, gripping her with the same intensity as her muscles milked him. She felt him exploding, jetting into her with his seed, hot spasms that had a guttural sound tearing from his throat.

  Vikirnoff buried his face in Natalya’s throat, desperately trying to regain a steady heartbeat, to pull air into his lungs. She had been so tight and hot, her vaginal grip on his sensitive erection torturing him with pleasure as she clasped him to her, draining him completely. She was going to kill him if their lovemaking got any better, but it was a great way to go. He lifted his head enough to nuzzle her breast. Her nipples were tight hard beads, tempting him. His tongue flicked and teased.

  Her body jerked around his, tightened on his flesh so that he groaned as fire raced through him, spreading through every nerve ending. “I love you, Natalya.”

  “I don’t think I can ever do
that again. It scared the hell out of me. Worse than any vampire.” Her fingers tangled in his hair. “I couldn’t stop. It just went on and on and I didn’t have any control at all.”

  He smiled against her breast. “It will only get better.”

  “We’re both going to die, you know that don’t you?”

  “It occurred to me,” he admitted. He kissed her again, gently this time. “You know you will be going through the conversion soon. I have heard it can be painful.” He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “I will do my best to spare you and the moment it is safe, I will put us both in ground.”

  Fear etched tiny white lines around her mouth. Her eyes were enormous but she nodded at him. “Don’t forget the book and the safeguards.”

  He rolled off of her and drew her into his arms, holding her close. “I will not forget anything. Thank you for giving yourself to me.”

  Natalya laughed. “Is that what I did? I thought you took me for yourself and there was no going back.”

  “There is no going back now.” He murmured as the first ripple of pain took her, driving the air from her lungs.

  18

  “Hold on to me, ainaak sívamet jutta, I fear this will hurt like hell.” Vikirnoff’s eyes held panic, something Natalya had never seen in him, just as she’d never heard that particular tone in his voice.

  She reached for his hand, tangled her fingers with his. “I’m not the first woman to do this, you know. We’ll get through it.” As the pain radiated through her with all the intensity of a blowtorch, she wasn’t altogether certain she was telling the truth. It took her breath, leaving her gasping.

  Vikirnoff turned pale. “Damn it, I should never have let this happen.”

  He startled her with his swearing. He often said things in his ancient tongue, but rarely did he curse. His blatant lack of control shocked her into focusing on him rather than the pain tearing through her body. Vikirnoff was already sweating, his eyes alive with fear for her.

  When the first wave eased enough to allow her to breathe again she pushed her hand through his hair, her touch tender. “You’re such a baby. It never occurred to me you’d be a baby.”

  A baby? He wanted to kill someone with his bare hands. He didn’t feel like a baby. He felt like a berserker, a wild, out-of-control demon, ready to rend and tear anything in his path. He couldn’t believe the conversion would be like this, the pain ripping through her body with the force of a tidal wave. Against such agony, his tremendous power was utterly useless. “This is . . .” He spat out a series of words in his ancient language, his voice low and mean.

  “I so don’t want to know what any of that means,” Natalya said, trying to smile. The smile died swiftly as the pain began swelling again, gripping her so hard her body convulsed. Fire, hot and ferocious, tore through her body. She bit back a scream, desperate to hide the extent of the pain from him.

  Small beads of blood formed on Natalya’s brow. Vikirnoff swept back the tangled mess of her damp, tawny hair. Small stripes banded over her body, shades of orange, white and black, faint streaks tinged with blood. Raw fury burned through him and he cursed who and what he was. The way she tried to be so damned protective of him shredded his heart. He came up on his knees, soaked his shirt in the coolest pool in the cavern and wiped the sweat from her face as gently as he could.

  Natalya suddenly pushed at him, tried to pull out of his mind, turning her face away from him, but he stayed firmly merged, his blood pounding through his veins. This was emotion at its worst. He rode the wave out with her, striving to find a way to help her, searching for calm. For centuries, his world had been unemotional, and now, when he needed it most, he couldn’t find the balance that was so necessary to aid her.

  She went white, so pale her skin was nearly gray. The bluish tinge to her lips had his heart pounding in alarm, but his hands were gentle as he wiped her face and throat.

  She caught his arm. “Stay with me.”

  “I am not going anywhere.”

  “You can’t possibly become vampire, can you, Vikirnoff?”

  He knew her fears were because of her twin brother. She had lost him. The last person in her life to really love her. Now, she feared losing Vikirnoff. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles, opened her clenched fist and pressed a second kiss to the center of her palm. “Thanks to you, no. Not ever.”

  She attempted a smile, trying to tease him, wanting to reassure him. “Then you owe me big time. Big time. And I intend to collect.” It was starting again, the torch in her stomach, burning through her lungs and heart and every organ. She tried to breathe through the pain, was desperate for air, for a way to stop the agony just for a moment so she could regroup. Tears burned in her eyes and streaks of blood ran down her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “That is good.” He swallowed the bile in his own throat, feeling desperate. He wanted to wrap his body around hers, find a way to protect her, to take away every second of the pain. “That is a good thing. It will help you rid your body of toxins.”

  She tried to crawl away, wanting to get into the shadows, but she was too sick, her body shuddering with pain, collapsing before she could reach the darker edges of the cavern. Vikirnoff tried to touch her, to help her, but she shook her head, pushing his hands away, unable to bear being touched with her skin so sensitive. He waved his hands at the candles flickering closest to her and the lights went out, leaving her with a semblance of privacy as she was sick over and over.

  “This sucks,” she announced, rolling over to lie still, conserving her strength for the next round. “I know you can make that go away”—she pointed to the mess she’d made—“and I really detest throwing up, so remove it please.” She took the water bottle he handed her and rinsed her mouth, grateful he was thoughtful.

  Vikirnoff complied, making certain all evidence that she had been ill was removed. “I want to try to do this together, Natalya. Do not hold yourself away from me or try to protect me. You are my life and I need to do whatever I can to help you through this. Let my heartbeat lead yours. Let my breath be yours.” He couldn’t be a bystander while she suffered so much. He had to find a way to help her.

  Natalya reached out her hand for his. It was almost comical to see him so shaken. Her big bad Carpathian. He was actually trembling. Worse, he looked ready to kill something, or someone. Who knew he would react like that? “What are you going to do if I ever have a baby?”

  His face paled visibly and his eyes darkened even more. “I cannot think about it now. Not for a long time. Centuries maybe. Perhaps never, if it is anything like this.”

  The next wave began building and she shifted her gaze to his face, her expression desperate. He brushed back her hair, noting the stripes once again stood out against her skin and hair in bands of orange and black and white. She alternated between the stripes and her pale, almost gray complexion. “Hang on, love, breathe with me. A long slow breath and ride above the pain.”

  Her gaze clung to his, her grip on him so tight he thought she might crush his bones, but she followed his breathing, long slow breaths, moving air in and out of their lungs, staying above the worst of the pain. Her body shook and the pinpoints of blood seeping through pores alarmed them both, but she was able to get through the wave without convulsing.

  “I don’t want to lose my tigress.” She lifted her head when he put his arm around her neck to hold her up so she could rinse her mouth again. “It wants my tigress and she is fighting it. I don’t want to give her up. She’s a part of me, just like breathing.” There was anxiety in her voice, a plea in her eyes.

  “The conversion is reshaping organs and tissues; essentially you are reborn as a Carpathian. I can still see the stripes. It is your nature to be a tigress, not part of your species. I do not believe you will lose who you are.” He brushed the damp strands of tawny hair from her face. “You will always be Natalya and the tigress is part of your soul.
I feel her locked with me. You will not lose her.” He repeated the reassurance a second time as the next pain welled up sharp and fast, lifting her from the cavern floor and slamming her back down so hard her bones seemed in danger of breaking.

  Natalya kept her gaze fixed on Vikirnoff. He was her lifeline. As long as she looked at him, saw desperate love and worry etched into his face, in the black eyes, she knew she could be strong. She’d never had a man look at her like that, as if his world was shattering because she was suffering. She could feel him trying to take the pain from her and it only made her love him more. He was such a powerful, steadfast man, yet all his personal stoicism dissolved in the face of her suffering.

  She stroked his face, her fingertips smoothing the deep lines as the pain subsided. “I’m not afraid of this, Vikirnoff. I’m really not.”

  He swore again. She hadn’t heard him say so many swear words in all the time they’d been together. “I am. I knew it was bad, but not like this.” He pressed his forehead against hers, smearing blood across both of their brows. “It has to be over soon.”

  “It will be.” She was calm now, resigned to the waves of pain, able to hang on because she could get through anything for a short period of time and he was there with her, looking ravaged and drained, so distraught she wanted to soothe him.

  Vikirnoff thought he might lose his mind. Time dragged, each second agonizingly slow, an excruciating endless anguish that had him praying when he hadn’t prayed in centuries. He had never felt so helpless—or useless in his life. His Natalya, so courageous, undergoing such torment for him. For his way of life. When finally he thought it would be safe to send to her sleep, she smiled at him. Smiled.

  Vikirnoff wanted to weep. The way she looked at him, with such love in her eyes, humbled him. He couldn’t believe she could see him that way, not after such an ordeal. There was love in her eyes, a warmth that seeped into the coldness of his bones and brought him back to life.