Love Me to Death (Underveil) (13 page)

Chapter Twelve

I
t 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, trailing 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.

“Do you want me to tell you about it?” he asked.

“No! I want you to do it!” When he didn’t move, she thought she would cry. “Please, Nikolai.”

“I’m still a bit sore from the bullets and can only use my mouth, so I need your help.”

“Anything.”

His weight left the foot of the bed. God, she wished she could see him.

“If you would please, keeping your arms over your head, scoot all the way down to the end of the bed. Ordinarily, I would wrap my fingers around your beautiful ass and pull you down here myself, but rules are rules.”

What should have been a mood-killer ended up being incredibly stimulating as the rough fabric of the sheets rubbed against her, and she imagined his fingers digging into her backside as she scooted all the way down to the foot of the bed using only her legs and torso, hands still bound above her head.

“You know the torture is as exquisite for me as it is for you, Elena.” Cool air swirled around her legs as he pushed the covers higher. “I want to touch you and run my hands all over you. I want to shove myself inside you and completely fill you up until you scream my name like you did when you came for me before.”

Had she done that? Really? She’d been a little distracted, like she was right now. He pulled her pajama pants down to her ankles. She started to pull a foot free, but he stopped her. “A little restraint is good sometimes.”