Air Bound

by Christine Feehan

  Benito laughed again. Maxim liked the sound. The children rarely laughed, and he couldn’t really blame them. They were still getting to know one another, trying to form a family, and in the middle of it all, they were securing the farm as fast as they could, which meant workmen coming and going continually, disrupting them.

  He grinned at the kid as he slipped out the window. “You’re coming along, Benito. I’m proud of you.”

  His last glimpse of the boy told him he’d said the right thing for a change—the kid lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Halfway down the ladder Maxim jumped to the ground, landing in a crouch, pausing to listen to the sounds of the night and let the air tell him exactly where she was. He didn’t really need it, she’d left a trail of flower petals for him to follow. The woman was a romantic at heart—a good thing when he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

  The soft petals were silvery white, and she’d strewn the path liberally so he had no trouble finding his way to the gazebo. He saw her through the screens, standing with her back to him, staring out into the forest, surrounded by dozens of lit candles. Her fall of platinum hair looked like spun silver and gold tumbling down her back. He knew how soft that silky fall really was.

  The thin shorts clung to her bottom as lovingly as material could possibly cling. Her bare legs looked firm and strong, her muscles clearly defined. He took his time looking at her, drinking her in, allowing the intensity of his love to wash over him.

  She turned then, her eyes meeting his through the mesh of the screens. For a long moment, she held his gaze, and then she smiled at him. He loved every single feature on her face, from her large eyes, small straight nose, to her full, generous mouth. Her cheekbones were high and her lashes very long. When she smiled, he was fairly certain the sun rose in the sky.

  Maxim stepped up the two brick stairs and opened the screen. Airiana gestured, her arms wide, indicating the setup waiting for him there in the gazebo, the mattress on the floor, the scented candles and the bottle of oil. She’d planned every detail, arranging their secret getaway.

  “The boy has binoculars,” he greeted her, because if he said anything else, the lump burning in his throat might find a way to reach his eyes. He had wanted her to show him what was love was, and she was continuously doing so.

  She laughed softly. He felt that soft melodious sound go down his spine just like the touch of her fingers, and his entire body came alive. There was something about her that made his spirit soar high, and it always disconcerted him.

  He cleared his throat. “You gave them to him and I remember I was adamant that it was a really bad idea.”

  “He loves them,” she pointed out, laughing.

  “He spies on everyone.”

  She stepped close to him and ran her hand up his bare chest, from his flat belly to his left nipple. “He’s you, Maxim, and we have to shape him carefully. He needs to become the man you are. We can’t lose him. The binoculars occupy his mind right now.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss into his belly button.

  His breath caught in his throat, his fist bunched in her hair. “He’s a shadow, and one of these days I’m going to accidentally step on him.”

  Her tongue teased his flat stomach, teeth nipping here and there. “You already love that boy.”

  “I love all of them, but they need to stay in their own damn beds,” he growled. “We put them to bed every night and they just keep getting up and coming in, one by one like they have little strings connecting them, and they all wake up at one time.”

  “Nicia only feels safe when she’s with you. She needs time, Max,” Airiana said, her hand coming up to nuzzle his burgeoning cock through his sweats while her mouth continued its foray over his belly.

  A savage ache invaded, his cock so full and hard he could barely catch his breath. His hand cupped the back of her head as she pressed little butterfly kisses down his belly, driving the air from him so that even his lungs burned. Her hands dropped to the waistband of his sweats, slowly untying the drawstring.

  You’ve gone very quiet, Max.

  That soft laughter in her mind sent more blood rushing through his veins, hot with excitement. Whatever she had planned, his body was more than ready for.

  I knew we had a problem with the children invading our private space, so I created another one. I’ve wrapped the gazebo in a weave, Benito’s binoculars can’t get through, and I’ve made us our own private bedroom. We might not be able to sleep together out here, but I can love you all I want.

  There was purring satisfaction in her voice as his sweats dropped to the floor with a single tug. He stepped out of them and kicked them away. Her hands cupped his sac, fingers moving gently over the velvet smoothness.

  I love the way you feel. Your body is as hard as a rock, yet so easy to touch.

  She stroked and massaged as she leaned into him to find the smooth head of his cock with her tongue, licking at the pearly drops there as if she might an ice cream cone. He threw back his head, closing his eyes, giving himself up to the slow, fiery burn of her mouth sheathing him.

  A sound escaped her throat, a moan of satisfaction, and the note vibrated through his shaft, sending flames dancing through his entire body, radiating out from his cock to every nerve ending he had.

  Have I told you how much I love you, Max? I wake up each day in your arms and can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.

  Her mouth was heaven. Hot. Tight. Wet. She curled her tongue around his shaft, found the sensitive spot beneath the lip of the head. His fists tightened in all the silky hair tumbling around her face, pulling it back. He wanted—no needed—to see her. She looked so beautiful with her mouth stretched around him and her blue eyes looking up at him with so much love.

  He’d never considered that he would ever have a family, let alone a woman who would so generously give herself to him. She made these little sounds of joy, of satisfaction, as if giving him pleasure gave her so much more. Each time she made those throaty, sexy notes, rockets went off in his head, through his body, teasing at his full cock until he thought the top of his head might come off.

  She drew him deep into her mouth and then slowly released him, moving back up his shaft only to vary the speed so there was no way to catch his breath. Streaks of fire raced from his groin to his brain. He felt his control slipping.

  Airiana, he warned.

  I’ve got you, baby, she said softly, you’re safe with me. We’re alone here. We’re safe. Let yourself go. Give yourself to me.

  His heart went into overtime. What if he was too rough? Too much for her? Did something she was afraid of? To just give in and let his body and mind go to that place freely, without restraint or worry . . .

  Airiana. Was he telling her yes? No? To be careful of what she wished for?

  Her mouth tightened around him, she suckled and then did the strange thing with her tongue that practically sent him into another realm.

  Give yourself to me, Max. Don’t hold back. I don’t want you to. I want all of you. I want you to belong to me the way I belong to you.

  He closed his eyes and let go, giving himself up to the sheer glory of her loving mouth and hands. It was like leaping off a cliff and free-falling, the exhilaration mixed with joy and trepidation. His hips began a gentle thrusting, taking him deeper into her tight, hot mouth.

  Twice he held himself there, feeling her throat constrict him, watching her eyes, watching the sultry, smoky heat that only added to his building need. She’d lit a match to a stick of dynamite. He could see no fear or reluctance in her at all, only hunger, a deep hunger that matched his own.

  He gave her just enough time to catch her breath, but she never fought him, never did anything but love him, accepting his rougher side as if every stroke gave her joy. He couldn’t believe a woman could be so utterly generous.

  He knew he wasn’t going to be
able to last much longer and he wanted the night with her. She deserved the night with him. With great reluctance, he began to withdraw. She suckled much stronger, frowning a little around his cock, if that was actually possible.

  Baby, enough. We’ve got the night and I need to give back to you.

  This is your night. I’m giving it to you. My gift. I want this. I want this night for you, Max.

  This is for me, Airiana. I need to be inside you, sharing your skin. He did. He wanted to feel surrounded by her—to lose himself completely in her. He wanted to give her as much—or more—pleasure as she was bringing to him, because no man could have such a woman and not want to keep her always.

  He took his index finger and gently inserted it into the side of her mouth, breaking the seal she had on his cock. Come here, honey. I need you right now.

  He didn’t wait for her consent, he knew he had it. It was in the soft melting of her body, her eyes, so filled with love he was certain he didn’t deserve. It was in the generosity of her mouth when she brought him nearly to his knees.

  Maxim lifted her into his arms, finding her mouth with his. His kiss was ferocious, demanding, much rougher than he had ever given her. He forced her head back to allow him to explore her mouth the way he wanted, taking his time, devouring the faint peach flavor that was essentially Airiana.

  She moaned softly, kissing him back, her mouth open to his, her tongue sliding along his tentatively, but giving him everything he insisted on. She had given herself to him and he was taking what belonged to him. Her mouth was soft and hot and sheer paradise. He could kiss her forever and never tire of it.

  He kissed her over and over as he laid her on the soft bamboo sheets she’d covered the mattress in. One hand found her right breast while the other spanned her throat. His appetite was voracious, insatiable, he could never get enough of kissing her. His hand cupped her soft breast, just holding the slight weight in his palm because he could. He felt her shiver. Her breasts were so sensitive, and he loved that about her. His fingers began to roll and tug on her nipple to bring it to rapt attention.

  He didn’t allow her to catch her breath, he breathed for her, his lungs to hers, sharing their breath, exchanging it. He transferred his attention to her other breast, but already, the sweet peach taste in her mouth had made him hungry for her feminine essence, all that hot honey he knew was spilling out of her in welcome for him.

  Maxim kissed his way down her throat to her breasts, pausing to suckle and nip with his teeth, hard, stinging nips his tongue laved and soothed. He continued his travels along the underside of her breasts and along the bruises on her ribs, now mostly healed.

  She felt so small, giving him a heady feeling of power. Every kiss, every nip, his hands stroking and caressing left her panting, gasping, begging for more. She was vocal, letting him know by every gasping, ragged breath, every thrash and turn of her head, her bucking hips and writhing body, that she belonged solely to him—that she enjoyed everything he was doing to her.

  His hands went to her thighs and she shivered as he parted her legs and blew into all that heat. He loved the fire in her. It was all his. All for him.

  This is mine. For me. He stated the fact, for the first time believing it.

  All yours, she agreed. I gave myself to you almost the first day I met you.

  I’m giving myself wholly to you, Airiana. As messed up and as far gone as I am, I’m yours and always will be. He meant his declaration from the bottom of his shredded soul.

  He bent his head to her as he lifted her hips. His mouth settled over her and she screamed, the woven air around the gazebo containing the sound, keeping her cries of pleasure for his ears only.

  He took his time devouring her, wanting every drop of her honey, using his tongue to draw it out, suckling strongly, teasing her taut little bud until she was writhing and pleading with him, until his own body made its savage demands.

  He moved up and over her swiftly, not waiting for her body to adjust to his size, but surging into her with one, long brutal stroke, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go so that he was surrounded by her. Her feminine sheath gripped him tightly, so tight he felt the scorching hot burn he’d been waiting for.

  She was a vise surrounding him with living, moving silk, the walls of her channel hotter than hell as they grasped at him. It took her body a moment to accommodate his size, and just as she was relaxing into him, he set a ferocious pace. He thrust into her over and over, gripping her hips, yanking her legs over his shoulders so he could get deeper, so he could feel that moment when they were one. When her soul connected to his.

  It was beautiful. Perfect. He was never going to stop. He pounded into her. Her soft moans and breathless pleas began to rise into a crescendo. Still, he didn’t stop. Her ragged breath and gasping cries became a counterpoint to each hard thrust.

  Sweat beaded on his body. There was a fine sheen on hers. The night air wrapped them up in warmth. The scent of her candles mingled with the scent of their lovemaking, a heady aphrodisiac.

  Now, Airiana, come apart for me. He made it a command. I want everything you are. I’m giving you everything I am.

  Her muscles tightened around his, clamped down so hard that, for a moment, the sensation was close to pain, but then her body gripped and milked, a hard fist of silk surrounding him, drawing his seed into her. He felt the eruption like a hot jet of fuel, spurt after spurt filling her, while around him her body rippled with life, and that cleansing fire stormed through both of them.

  He allowed himself to rest on her for a moment before wrapping her tightly in his arms and rolling over so he wouldn’t crush her. He couldn’t bring himself to separate from her and she lay on him, her cheek on his chest, over his heart.

  “I love you, Maxim. I do. Thank you. I needed . . . you.”

  He stroked her hair. Maybe he could never give her the words out loud that she needed to hear, but he could say them with his body, whisper them intimately into her mind. He would always belong to this woman. He would always treasure her and care for her. His fingers tangled in all that silk.

  “You know we’re not finished out here, not by a long shot.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I brought some wonderful peppermint oil. It’s quite edible, and when one puts it on interesting places . . . well . . .” She trailed off, laughing.

  He loved her laugh nearly as much as he loved her.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from the next

  exciting Carpathian novel by Christine Feehan

  DARK BLOOD

  Available September 2014 from Berkley Books!

  SOUND came to him first. A low drumming beat growing louder. Zev Hunter felt the vibration of that rhythmic booming throughout his entire body. It hurt. Each separate beat seemed to echo through his flesh and bone, reverberating through his tissue and cells, jarring him until he thought he might shake apart.

  He didn’t move. It was too much of an effort even to open his eyes and figure out what that disturbing, insistent call was—or why it wouldn’t go away. If he opened his eyes he would have to move, and that would hurt like hell. If he stayed very still, he could keep the pain at bay, even though he felt as if he were floating in a sea of agony.

  He lay there for a long time, his mind wandering to a place of peace. He knew the way there now, a small oasis in a world of excruciating pain. He found the wide, cool pool of blue inviting water, the wind touching the surface so that ripples danced. The surrounding forest was lush and green, the trees tall, trunks wide. A small waterfall trickled down the rocks to the pool, the sound soothing.

  Zev waited, holding his breath. She always came when he was there, moving slowly out of the trees into the clearing. She wore a long dress and a cape of blue velvet, the hood over her long hair so that he only caught glimpses of her face. The dress clung to her figure, her full breasts and small waist, the corset to
p emphasizing every curve. The skirt of the dress was full, falling over her hips to the ground.

  She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her body was graceful, fluid, an ethereal, elusive woman who always beckoned to him with a soft smile and a small hand gesture. He wanted to follow her into the cool forest—he was Lycan, the wolf that lived inside of him preferred the forest to the open—but he couldn’t move, not even for her.

  He stayed where he was and simply drank her in. He wasn’t a man clever words came easily to, so he said nothing at all. She never approached him, never closed the distance between them, but somehow, it never mattered. She was there. He wasn’t alone. He found that as long as she was close to him, the terrible pain eased.

  For the first time though, something disturbed his peaceful place. The booming beat found him, so loud now that the ground lifted and fell with an ominous, troubling thump. The water rippled again, but this time he knew it wasn’t the wind causing the water to ring from the middle of the pool outward. The drumbeat throbbed through the earth, jarring not only his body but everything else.

  The trees felt it. He heard the sap running deep in the trunk and branches. Leaves fluttered wildly as if answering the deep booming call. The sound of water grew louder, no longer a soft trickling over rocks, not a steady drip, but a rush that swelled with the same ebb and flow as the sap in the trees. Like veins and arteries flowing beneath the very earth surrounding him, making its way toward every living thing.

  You hear it now.

  She spoke for the first time. Her voice was soft and melodious, not carried on the wind, but rather on breath. One moment she was on the other side of that small pool of water, and the next she was sinking down into the tall grass, leaning over him, close to him, her lips nearly skimming his.

  He could taste cinnamon. Spice. Honey. All of it on her breath. Or was it her skin? His Lycan senses, usually so good at scent, seemed confused. Her lashes were incredibly long and very dark, surrounding her emerald eyes. A true emerald. So green they were startling. He’d seen those eyes before. There was no mistaking them. Her bow of a mouth was a man’s perfect fantasy, her lips full and naturally red.