You really are a baby, you know. There was utter weariness in her voice. She was so tired, yet she couldn’t help wiping at the blood-red tears streaking his face.
Only where you are concerned. I am going to lock you in a tower and keep you safe for well over a hundred years. It will take at least that long to get over this night.
I really hate to have to admit this because I’ve almost worked out the counter spell to undo the binding ritual, but I have fallen madly in love with you. There was a small deliberate sigh in her voice, as if she were annoyed that she could possibly have fallen in love with him.
His burning lungs found air. That small sigh was enough to tell him she was still Natalya, his warrior woman and she wasn’t going to cave in because she was flat on her back. I hate to disagree with you when you are obviously unable to defend your position, but the ritual binding words are not a spell. You cannot undo our marriage.
She closed her eyes but a faint smile curved her lips. Then I shall endure.
He burst out laughing, a mixture of relief and amusement, tears still leaking from his eyes, gathering her up in his arms as he opened the ground, exposing the rejuvenating soil rich in minerals. “I am putting you to bed where you will not be able to torment me. I need recovery time from this ordeal.”
Her eyebrow shot up. You need the recovery time?
I nearly had a heart attack.
The pain was welling up again, seizing her organs, squeezing like a vice so it felt as if she might really be having a heart attack. Stop talking and more action.
Vikirnoff sent her to sleep instantly, a strong command that was probably unnecessary, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He sat for a long time cradling her in his lap, rocking gently back and forth, more to soothe himself than her. He stared down into her beautiful face. When had he become so consumed by her? He couldn’t imagine his life without Natalya. Her lashes were thick and black, feathery crescents under her eyes. He noted the dark circles that hadn’t been there before.
He had never considered himself a man of violence. He lived in a world of violence and did what he had to do. Hunting was a way of life. Battles and wounds and destroying evil were simply how he lived. It was never personal, never emotional. Yet now, with Natalya, all that had changed. He couldn’t bear her to be in pain. Not physically and certainly not emotionally.
He buried his face against her throat. He had a demon in him and it wasn’t the monster who had lived and roared for blood. This unexpected demon had risen up, demanding retribution, wanting to smash and destroy simply because Natalya was in pain. He couldn’t stand to see her that way, so pale, in agony, trying valiantly to protect him. Vikirnoff didn’t like discovering he was a violent man, but it was there, deep inside and he wouldn’t hide from it. Natalya had seen him, demons and all, and she hadn’t turned away from him. For that alone, he loved her.
He carefully unraveled the safeguards surrounding Natalya’s weapons and her backpack. The book would have to be with them at all times until he could convince Natalya to turn it over to the prince. He could understand why she wanted to safeguard the tome herself. She knew next to nothing about the Carpathians, a dying species, with too few women and even fewer children. And that meant she didn’t know the prince or his capabilities. Mikhail was one of the most powerful Carpathians alive and if anyone could keep the book safe—or find a way to destroy it, it would be Mikhail.
The backpack floated into his hand and he settled down into the rich soil. He would need to rise first and feed enough for both of them before taking her to the great healing caverns where Mikhail and Falcon would give Gabrielle the third blood exchange to convert her. In spite of the tremendous odds against it, Gabrielle was still alive, and Vikirnoff was still guarding her spirit. He needed to be there when she underwent the conversion. The idea was unsettling, especially after he had just gone through it with Natalya.
Vikirnoff stretched out in the welcoming soil, feeling it cushion and embrace him. He settled Natalya’s limp body beside him, while he curled up around her, the backpack under both of their palms where it would be safe and she would see upon awakening that he had kept his word. The safeguards were some of the strongest he’d ever woven, wanting to ensure Natalya’s safety. He swept his hand across her bare skin. “Sleep well, sleep deep.” He brushed a kiss over her lips and lay still beside her, calling to the soil to cover them.
Vikirnoff woke hours later at the precise moment the sun set. All Carpathians were aware of the rising and setting of the sun, yet it was so ingrained in them they gave it very little thought. He scanned the caverns above and below them and then finally the open areas surrounding the caves before opening the earth. As he gathered Natalya in his arms, he thought for the first time in centuries about the sun and how important a part it had played in the life of his lifemate.
He carried her body to the pool where he could wash all evidence of the conversion from her body along with remnants of the rich soil. He didn’t want her to wake afraid—or worse, sorry that she had chosen the Carpathian way of life. He loved the night, embraced it as his world, but someone who had walked in the sun might have trouble adjusting.
He nuzzled Natalya’s throat, whispering to her to awaken. He caught her first breath in his mouth, took it into his lungs and held it there, feeling her heart flutter against his hand. She sighed, a soft sound of love that made his heart leap. The pads of her fingers trailed over his chest, a wisp of movement so light it felt like the flutter of wings, yet it seemed she burned her brand forever into his skin. Her fresh scent rose up to torment him, to tease his senses and harden his body.
Natalya’s long lashes lifted and her brilliant green gaze stared into his, darkening with hunger, with desire. “Hello.” Her voice was soft, incredibly sexy and every muscle in his body tightened and hardened.
“Hello.” She couldn’t fail to notice the evidence of his desire, thick and pulsing with energy and heat.
“I’m alive.” Her fingertips smoothed over his face. A slow smile curved her mouth. “Hang on one minute and let me make certain everything is working properly.”
Vikirnoff frowned as she rolled over and jumped to her feet, stretching lazily. He propped himself up on one elbow, a faint smile on his face as she shifted shape. The tigress bounded around the cavern, joy in the playful leaps, before she rubbed her fur along his body. He sank his fingers into the thick pelt and caressed her face as she lay beside him.
Natalya shifted back again, laughing up at him. “She’s still there.”
“I knew she would be.”
Natalya sat up, a fluid movement of grace and elegance, shifting to straddle his lap. Her body was already hot. He could feel her wet and slick pressed into his thigh. His hands caught her hips, trying to position her where he could join them, but she resisted, shaking her head. “I want luxury this evening. I think I deserve it.”
He swallowed hard. Luxury might be the death of him. “You deserve anything you want.”
“I want to touch you.” She lowered her head so her lips could skim his chest, featherlight, just enough to drive him mad. “Like this. I love touching you.” She wanted to make love to him. A long slow passionate time where every touch showed him her love. Where her new senses could heighten what she already felt when he touched her. She needed this time with him to feel loved in every way.
His hands cupped her buttocks, lifted, massaged and rubbed, pressing her closer to him, his body so eager for hers his heart was nearly exploding out of his chest. She lifted her head, her gaze slumberous and sensual, her mouth finding his, teeth tugging gently at his lower lip, her tongue teasing his with tiny stroking caresses. He felt each one vibrate through his body, coming together in his groin. The ache grew into a distinct pain, his erection heavy and stiff and throbbing for relief.
Her mouth left his and she alternated tiny kisses and bites across his throat and down his chest. Her hands pushed at the wall of his chest until he leaned back, resting against the side
of the pool. Water lapped at his thighs and legs, splashed droplets over him. Natalya didn’t seem to notice, intent on tracing every muscle with her tongue and teeth. She was tortuously slow as she moved down his chest to his belly with slow licks and tiny kisses. The fire racing through his veins found its way to the building volcano in his groin. “I am not going to live through this.”
“Well, you’ll just have to, because I want to feel the way I love you and the way you love me back.”
She moved her hips, sliding the moist heat of her mound back and forth over him until he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips to set her on him. Smiling, she slid lower, pressing kisses against his flat belly, her legs sliding into the water, giving him a delicious view of her curved bottom. He couldn’t stop his hands from massaging her, fingers dipping low to invade her body. His breath was coming in ragged gasps.
Her breath moved over the head of his erection, warming the glistening drops there, and stilling his heart. “This is what you did to me. I couldn’t think or breathe. I could only feel, Vikirnoff. I want you to feel how much I love you.”
Before he could answer, her mouth closed around him, tight and hot, her tongue doing some incredible dance while her fist grasped him with sure fingers. Lightning raced up his body, sizzled in his veins. The sound of his breathing was harsh, even to his own ears. He watched her through half-closed eyes, his body going up in flames. When he thought he would die, when he couldn’t feel anymore without exploding into a million fragments, she took him deeper so that his hips thrust helplessly. The small suckling noises coupled with her tight mouth and licking tongue nearly drove him out of his mind.
Her fingernails raked his scrotum, her fingers tightening and squeezing gently, her mouth so hot it was a cauldron of fire wrapped around him. His fists bunched in her hair and he thrust deeper. Her breasts moved against his thighs, her nipples hard pinpoints of heat. He couldn’t resist the invitation of her curved bottom, thrust upward in the air as she suckled. His hand came down open-palmed, stroked and caressed, massaging, his blood pumping so hard through his veins he was afraid he might spontaneously combust.
Vikirnoff groaned her name, dragged her head back, needing her body, needing the feel of her wrapped tightly around him, gripping with such force he knew she needed him every bit as much. He could devour her later, her sweetness pouring into him, her cries bringing him intense pleasure, but not now. Now he was too frenzied with lust, too high on love. The two emotions were so mixed together he couldn’t separate them.
He rolled her over, coming up on top of her. Her breasts were beautiful, the full mounds tipped with darker pink nipples, rising and falling with each breath she dragged into her lungs. Water splashed around them, her hair floating in strands on the surface. The ledge held her in position, her bottom firmly lodged in the cradle of rock. He stroked her soft skin from her neck to her hip, stretching her beneath him like a sacrifice. “I love the feel of you. Do you have any idea what it is like for me to touch you like this?” He stroked her again, this time his palm taking a path over the swell of her breast to the V at the junction of her legs. Deliberately he merged his mind with hers so she could feel the fiery sensations in his own body, the driving need of the male of his species to dominate and control.
Her eyes darkened with hunger, with excitement. The tigress in her would never accept a mate less than Vikirnoff. His touch on her breast roughened as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and finger, but he leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with stroking caresses. The contrast between the tenderness of his mouth and the roughness of his hands sent heat sweeping through her body and left her womb clenching in desperation.
His teeth nibbled on her chin, his hair sliding like silk over her so that every nerve ending jumped to life. He licked her nipple. Paused. Lowered his head to taste again. His tongue flicked her several times making her so aware of the sensual erotic spot. Teeth scraped, lips kissed. Her head thrashed back and forth and when his mouth closed, hot and tight over her breast, suckling strongly, she cried out his name, fingers tugging at his hair, nails digging into his back.
“Hurry up.” She panted the command.
He lifted his head, his smile wicked. “You wanted slow and lazy. I am giving you what you wanted.” Deliberately he kissed his way across her belly, tonguing the ring, teeth tugging at it, before dipping lower.
“No. I need you in me. Right. Now.” She could barely get the words out.
“One taste.” He sank his finger into her, watching the shattering pleasure on her face. “That is what I need. To see you like that, Natalya, to see you come apart for me.” He pushed a second finger in, deeper this time, finding her most sensitive spot and rubbing with hard, strong strokes. “The tigress is close when you make love. Do you realize that? Your eyes go midnight blue and then opaque when you are very aroused.” It was the biggest turn-on, watching her eyes change color, watching her face and body flush for him, her nipples taut and elongated, her breath coming in ragged, harsh gasps.
His eyes, dark with sensuality held her gaze captive as he began a slow assault of her body. His tongue and fingers stroked and thrust into her; his licks and the tiny bites of his teeth drove her to the very edge of sanity. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t find the breath to gasp out a protest as he took over her body, playing it like a finely tuned instrument. He was everywhere, claiming every inch of her as his own, building her need and hunger into a frenzied lust. She screamed through two orgasms, her body inflamed, burning out of control.
He rose above her, gripping her thighs, desperate hunger running through his body. Every muscle was strung so tight he felt coiled and ready, an explosion waiting to happen. Looking at her face, so beautiful, so filled with hunger and need for him—for him. There it was, the miracle he had been gifted with. She had been made for him. Her body, this body, fit so perfectly with his; it was designed for pleasure, and he meant to take every drop and give her back tenfold.
He sank his shaft deep, a hard, driving stroke to take him as far into the hot inferno of her channel as he could get. She was so tight and wet, gripping him with her inner muscles, that he let loose a guttural growl of sheer bliss. Catching her legs, he wrapped them tightly around his waist, forcing her closer to him, so that he could pound deeper and harder with long, sure strokes. He felt her body tighten and shudder around him, but he kept thrusting, in and out, over and over, never wanting it to end. Her second climax began before the first had faded away, throwing her into another much more violent one.
Her hands clamped onto his shoulders, an anchor for her when he kept going, taking her even higher, forcing her into an explosive third orgasm. It shuddered through her body with the force of a freight train, rocking her, setting off the same explosion in him. He felt the drawing, the tightening until his very bones ached with the contraction. Her sheath, so hot and tight, gripped him, squeezing him to the point of pain, convulsing around him, a fist of hot velvet, until he was helpless to stop the volcanic eruption, spurting into her over and over.
Natalya stared up at him, dazed and slightly shocked. Her body refused to relax, refused to release him, every aftershock sending shudders of pleasure through her. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t find a way to drag air into her lungs. She could only lie there with the water lapping at her body, staring into his face.
“You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen.” And more sensual. She looked a siren there, spread out before him like a feast. “Again, Natalya. I want you again. And I want your blood and I want to give you mine. I want everything this time.”
She shook her head, a faint smile curving her mouth. “You already took everything. I can’t move.”
“I do not want you to move. I want you to feel.”
Natalya couldn’t move. Exhausted, her body still crying for more, she looked into his eyes, so dark, so intense with desire. His hands were everywhere, his teeth and mouth and his to
ngue. She pressed her mouth to his chest, drinking when he demanded, fire pulsing through her, multiple orgasms rocking her when his teeth pierced deep and his body thrust again and again into hers. She couldn’t believe she could want more, but desire consumed her, Vikirnoff’s needs feeding her own. She couldn’t seem to get enough of his body and there didn’t seem to be enough ways for him to sate himself with hers. “We’re going to die if we keep this up,” she warned, when she could talk again.
“I have centuries to make up for.” His hands stroked her breasts. “I will never get enough of touching you like this.”
Natalya rolled over into the heat of the pool. “I’m going to be so sore I won’t be able to walk. You look pale. I think you need to feed.” Even as she said it, a flare of jealousy spurted through her. What if he bent his head toward another woman, knuckles brushing her breast? What if the woman looked at him with desire, her body growing wet and hot as he approached her? A low snarl escaped and Natalya swam toward the center of the pool. If she ever smelled another woman’s scent on him, he would find out what it was like to rouse the tigress.
Something was wrong, but Natalya couldn’t figure out what it was. They’d made love, she had been so happy, but with her mixture of heightened tigress and Carpathian senses, she suddenly felt the presence of another woman. She did. He might deny it all he wanted, but there was another woman in his life.
Vikirnoff watched her with speculative eyes. Very soft stripes banded her hair and flesh as she moved through the water. He touched her thoughts and smiled. How she could think he might want another woman was a puzzle to him. He followed her, pacing right beside her.
Natalya flashed him an irritated glance. “I need space.” She sent up a column of water with a single bat of her hand. Or paw. In the flickering candlelight, even with his amazing night vision, he couldn’t tell whether she had partially shifted. Her blue cat’s eyes had gone stormy, opaque, shimmering with translucent colors and a warning.
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 111