The growls rumbling in his throat became more animal, almost threatening. His hips moved in a frantic rhythm. Suddenly he could stand it no longer. Mikhail yanked her away from him, down to the floor, thrusting her knees apart to expose her for his possession. He pinned her down, took her with a single hard, powerful stroke of stark possession, filling her tight velvet feminine channel as deeply as was possible.
Raven cried out as he buried himself harder, every thrust stormy and aggressive, each more wild and frantic than the one before. Her tongue stroked his throat.
“Feed me, Mikhail. Feed me now while you take me, and then I’ll give you everything you need.” She whispered it like an enchantress, her very voice a drug adding to the excitement.
She had never asked for his blood, his life’s fluid, and the idea was as sexy as her mouth on him. His body tightened, impossibly hard, yet her request enabled him to slow down so that he could feel the anticipation as her tongue stroked over his pulse. As he surged deeply into her fiery hot sheath, her teeth, of their own volition, sank deep into him. White heat and blue lightning slammed through his body. He threw his head back at the exquisite pleasure-pain of it.
The hot, sweet odor of his ancient blood mingled with their musk scents. The strong pull of her mouth coinciding with the strong grip of her body surrounded his. He matched her movements deliberately, felt her take his blood, his seed, the essence of life, into her body. Her body dragged at his, insistent, a sweet torment, a velvet clutching, a milking, with the same dark fire as her silken mouth.
The stroke of her tongue sent an aftershock rippling through both of them, and they lay locked together, his body covering hers, his arms holding her in place, his every muscle rock hard and still in desperate need, as if he had never touched her. His hunger was a terrible thing far beyond craving, far beyond anything he had ever experienced.
Raven’s hands smoothed his hair, and then her palms rubbed over his jaw. She smiled, pure seduction, her hips arching deliberately into his, her muscles tight and gripping. She brought his head down to hers so that she could fasten her mouth to his, sharing the sweet taste of his blood, taunting, teasing, prolonging his need, bringing him to wild abandonment.
He took control back, drinking deeply of her silken mouth, his tongue stroking down the line of her throat, lingering over her pulse, his teeth scraping, tantalizing, while his body took aggressive possession, plunging deep and hard.
Raven murmured his name, dragged his head to her breast, lifting herself in pleading invitation. His chin rubbed over the creamy swell, delved into the valley between, his blue-shadowed jaw rasping sensitive skin. He cupped her breasts as his mouth closed over her, hot and moist, pulling strongly. She clutched him to her, her body exploding with pleasure, following the rhythm and pace he set.
Mikhail lifted his head, his eyes slumberous, sexy, hypnotic, drawing her deeper into his very mind, his very soul. He nuzzled her breast, his tongue stroking, caressing. Open-mouthed, he pressed wet, hot kisses over sensitive skin. His hips surged forward. Once more his eyes met hers, a clear demand.
“Yes, please, yes,” she whispered urgently, dragging his head back to the heat of her body. “I want this, Mikhail.”
His teeth grazed, pierced above her breast, the pain white-hot even as her body rippled, fragmented with searing ecstasy. Fangs sank deep, the hunger in him insatiable. He plunged into her, wanting more, needing the consummate friction of fire and velvet sheathing him. He drank her in, taking her very life into his body, his mind merging with hers, his body claiming hers in pure male dominance.
Dangerous. Sweetly dangerous. Hot pure sex laced with pure love and a complete merging of souls. He wanted it to last forever, this moment while they shared the same body, same skin, same mind. Fast and hard, slow and deep, each stroke was exquisite torment. Her blood filling every cell, swelling his strength, draining her as her body drained him. He felt himself hardening impossibly, swelling, stretching, relentlessly pushing his invasion to the maximum. Taking both of them soaring, careening over the edge without control, and exploding into fiery fragments, dissolving, falling to earth.
Raven lay beneath him, listening to their combined heartbeats, her fingers threaded in his dark espresso-colored hair. Her body belonged to him; she belonged to him. His tongue caressed her skin, tracing a single drop of blood over the swell of her breast. He rained kisses over her breasts, up her throat, to find her mouth, gently, tenderly. His hand spanning her throat, he stroked her soft skin with the pad of his thumb, reveling in the soft satin texture.
It amazed him that she had chosen this moment to commit herself to their life as Carpathians. He had no doubt that she loved him and was committed to him, but he had known she was repulsed by the idea of how she would be forced to live. After a horrifying, traumatic experience, she had committed herself to her new life without reservation. As long as they were together, Mikhail was certain she would never be predictable.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked softly.
Her long lashes fluttered, lifted, so that her violet eyes locked with his. A slow, fascinating smile curved her mouth. “Maybe, just a little.” She smoothed a line from his forehead. “I’ll be fine tonight. Do what you have to do and don’t worry about me.”
“I would prefer that you slept for a while.” He shifted, eased his weight off her, surprised to find that he was still partially dressed.
“That’s only because you have so much anger toward Romanov you don’t want me to know what you’re doing.” She propped herself up on one elbow so that her thick mane of silky hair spilled across her body, a thin veil over her breasts.
His gut clenched hotly at the sight, his dark eyes going black with a sudden flare of desire. She laughed softly, the sound sultry in the night. “I think you could have sex all night and never be sated.”
He bent down to taste temptation, his tongue bringing her nipple to a hard peak. “I would very much like to give it a try, sivamet—my love. I could lose myself in your body.” He nuzzled her gently, his hand trailing possessively down the curves of her body.
Her fingers stroked through his thick hair. Her eyes held tenderness. “You think to protect Jacques by leaving him here with me as my bodyguard.”
“You see too much.”
“More than you know.” Her eyes softened, warmed. “You think you are going to do something I will be unable to accept, but I believe in you, Mikhail. I think you are a great and fair man. You have every right to despise Romanov, but I know you can put that aside and do what is right. He is a young man, confused and angry, shaken and traumatized by his parents’ brutal deaths. Whatever he found that linked you to those deaths has driven him into a breakdown. It’s a terrible tragedy.”
Mikhail closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. She was effectively tying his hands. How could he go out and kill a man for torturing Raven when she was compassionate enough to forgive him? He bent his head and licked along the closest scar, that fading red/purple shiny strip where the knife had plunged through her precious skin.
“I do not know how to answer you, Raven. I am not nearly the forgiving man you believe me to be. I want to be that man. I want to be better for you, but I fear I will never get the sight of you lying there with all these deep wounds bleeding from my mind.”
He kissed each one of them, and then blazed a trail to the underside of her breast and kissed her even more possessively.
Raven didn’t protest; she simply cradled his head to her, offering him solace, seeing into his mind. This was what he wanted for them, lying together, close, his hands and mouth in a leisurely exploration of her body while they came to know one another intimately. He wanted the soft laughter and stimulating conversation. He wanted chess matches and visits together to the priest where they could drink herbal tea and enjoy the wisdom of his friend.
“I want to take you into the forest, Raven, my forest, where the trees are thick and few people have ever set foot.” Mikhail’s
tongue flicked her nipple, and then his mouth settled for a long, heart-stopping moment while he suckled.
She felt the familiar ache between her legs and wasn’t surprised when his hand moved to cover her damp mound. “What would you show me there?” she asked him, wanting him to stay just a little longer.
Mikhail would be going into a dangerous situation, and a part of her knew he needed most of the night to complete his tasks, but there was no sign of impatience in him. He appeared relaxed and enjoying his time with her, wholly focused on her alone. She appreciated that in him so much—that ability to give her what she needed.
He lifted his head and looked at her. “You always come first with me, Raven.”
“I don’t know how I managed to get so lucky.” She trailed her fingers through his hair. All that dark silk intrigued her. She had never really seen men who wore their hair long and yet still looked so masculine.
“That you can say that after all that has happened amazes me,” Mikhail said. He dipped his head to taste the small indent of her belly button. His chin nuzzled her. “Someday my child will grow right here.”
“You’d like that, would you? I might get as big as a house.”
Mikhail kissed her tummy again and then kissed the path to her breasts. “You will have milk for our babies. That is such a miracle, Raven.”
She heard the ache in his voice. The need. He didn’t quite believe they would manage to have children, not when his people had been unable to do so for centuries, but he was willing to dream of it—with her.
“We’ll find a way to have children, Mikhail. You managed to convert me without me becoming deranged.” There was gentle humor in her voice.
Mikhail’s head went up, his dark eyes meeting hers.
Raven laughed softly. “Did you think I wouldn’t know your worst fear? I am adept at reading minds, and you, my love, have opened yourself to me often. I knew your fear and loved you all the more for facing it alone.”
“You should have said something.” He moved over her body, blanketing her, his hips settling into the cradle of hers.
Raven loved the feel of him surrounding her. She put her arms around him, holding him to her, wishing they had weeks—months—to indulge in each other instead of a few more minutes. But she wouldn’t hold him there, not when the fate of his people could be held in the balance. She inhaled his scent and took it deep inside her.
“I didn’t need to say anything, Mikhail.”
“I could have reassured you.”
She kissed his throat. “There was no need. Either I was going to be all right or I wasn’t. I trust you. You believed I could make it through without tampering with my memories. Because you believed it, I believed in myself.”
He swept her hair from her face, smiling down at her. She could see complete, utter love shining down at her.
“The way you love me, Mikhail, is amazing. Thank you. But you’d better go before Gregori believes I’m holding you prisoner and comes looking for you.”
“Ah, yes. Gregori.” Mikhail kissed her and sat up, his movements fluid and easy. “Does he frighten you?”
“He gave me his allegiance,” she said. “I don’t believe he ever goes back on his word, and he certainly doesn’t give his loyalty to just anyone. No, I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid for him. I think he is in a very difficult situation, and his nature demands certain things from him.”
“You see more than most people,” Mikhail said. “You are a great asset to me, Raven.”
She shook her head, sitting up as well, her long hair sliding over her breasts like a cape. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.”
Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing.
“Get dressed,” Mikhail ordered with mock sternness. “I cannot have poor Jacques tormented by you.”
“I fully intend to torment him. He needs to learn not to be so serious.”
“Jacques is the least serious of all Carpathian males. He has retained his emotions far longer than most. It has only been a few centuries since he has lost them.”
“He is serious when it comes to ordering females about. He has definite ideas on how we should behave. I intend to take that up with him.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I am certain you will keep him occupied while we are gone. Do me a favor, little one, do not be too hard on him.”
They were both laughing as they dressed.
Sixteen
Rudy Romanov was heavily drugged. The scent was a stench in Mikhail’s nostrils. The idea of taking contaminated blood into his body was repulsive to him, but it was necessary. He would be able to read Romanov’s thoughts at will. Raven had sent him off with complete trust and faith in his love for her. Though every cell in his body demanded Romanov’s death, Mikhail could not betray her confidence in him.
Truthfully, Mikhail preferred to kill him. The monster in him raged for release, the man in him demanded revenge. The Carpathian could not countenance what Romanov had put his woman, his lifemate, through. But Mikhail’s lifemate clung to her human ways and could not yet see the Carpathian way. She had more compassion than good sense.
As prince of his people, he had a duty to them. Raven had sent him off with complete trust and faith in his love for her. No matter that every cell in his body demanded Romanov’s death, Mikhail could not betray her confidence in him, and yet his people . . .
“Allow me,” Gregori said softly, easily reading Mikhail’s dilemma.
The temptation to allow his second in command to do the job for him was a grave temptation. Gregori had killed, was their most skilled and proficient hunter of the undead. It was his job to protect their species as well as their prince. Mikhail sensed the cold resolve in him. Gregori would not hesitate if Mikhail so much as nodded his head.
“No, Gregori, I will not allow you to take on this burden. Killing has become far too easy for all of us—and especially for you.”
Gregori shrugged, his odd silver eyes glittering with something dangerous. “There is great power in the taking of a life, Mikhail.”
“There is great risk to your soul,” Mikhail pointed out. “As those who have chosen that powerful rush over retaining their souls can tell you. You have hunted them often enough.”
“My soul was damned a long time ago, Mikhail. I have nothing left but the acquisition of knowledge and power to sustain me.”
“What is your ultimate goal, then?” Mikhail asked, frowning.
“The survival of our species.” There was no inflection in Gregori’s voice. They could have been discussing the weather. “A reason to continue my existence. Some things I have discovered have been a great benefit to us. I demonstrated one such thing with the ability to hear you and come to your aid at our weakest hour. But some things are better left alone.”
A dark whisper of an ugly thought crept into Mikhail’s mind. He knew the years had cost Gregori, all those kills, hunting friends across the world to bring them to Carpathian justice. It hadn’t been easy, and there was no end in sight. Gregori had crossed a dark line somewhere, some time in the past, and was fighting his way back—or at least fighting to keep from doing anything he knew Mikhail would consider wrong. “Do you believe our species has a chance, Gregori?” Mikhail chose his words carefully, watching Gregori’s face. If the man had no hope at all, if that line he’d crossed had taken him too far . . .
“I have hope that a human woman can give birth to a female child. I have long suspected that it is so. I believe something has happened to our women to prevent this, and with a human woman, the chances will be far greater that she can carry to full term and deliver a healthy female.”
“The male determines the sex,” Mikhail pointed out. “We have tried to produce females but have failed.”
“But we have tri
ed with Carpathian women,” Gregori pointed out.
“If you believe this to be true, why have you waited to test your theory?” Mikhail asked suspiciously. Why would Gregori even be thinking along those lines when they all knew the few human women they’d attempted to turn had become mad and could not be saved? The continuation of their species was of the utmost importance—yes—but not at the cost of experimenting on a human being.
“Because I also believe a true ritual mating with an ordinary human woman would drive her insane. I do not believe it can be done and had despaired of ever seeing it happen until you successfully converted Raven. I had to ask myself why it worked with her and not with any others. She is your true lifemate, that much is evident, but what else is different about her that allowed it to be so? She is psychic, Mikhail. She possesses extraordinary psychic ability. It is my belief that she carries the genetic makeup to allow us to convert her. In all the world there is perhaps a handful of these women.”
“Do you base your belief on Raven alone?” Mikhail asked softly. The terrible nagging in his gut wouldn’t quite leave. Experimenting on a woman was certainly an unforgivable crime, and one he could never tolerate.
Gregori’s silver eyes narrowed, glittered. For a moment there was arctic cold, even icy death, reflected there, as if he were all too aware of Mikhail’s concerns. The black emptiness was growing in Gregori, a dark stain spreading over his soul. He made no effort to hide it from Mikhail. It was as if he wanted to show Mikhail just how desperate the situation was becoming.
Keeping his gaze steady on his prince’s, Gregori answered the charge. “I have done many dark, ugly, unforgivable things, but I would never use a female for experimental purposes.” He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Although we both know others have tried and failed, I have not yet managed to sink that low.”
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