Destiny Unchained (17 page)

His
savage moan tickled her skin. Then his body contorted. It melted on
top of hers, fur disappearing, and half its mass. In only seconds,
a human took its place. A naked human.

She
tried to pull her arms down but he gripped them harder. “Be still,
Talia,” he said, his voice husky like gravel. “Don’t move.” His
face warmed the crook of her neck. “I could hear your pain from
miles away. Do you know what that does to a man?” She couldn’t
speak, only lay there under his heaving body. “My Natalia, hurt and
afraid.”

She
opened her mouth to deny that last part, but he bit her
chin.

Lifting his head, he stared down at her. Calmer, more human
now, but still on edge. “Don’t argue, Talia, for once. Please. I
have to taste you. Do not deny me this.”

It
was a command, but his eyes asked for permission. She
nodded.

He
pressed her wrists into the snow. “Leave them there.” In a flurry
of movement she could barely process, he had her stripped from the
waist down. Her lips parted and she exhaled a gasp. Bared in the
middle of the snowy mountains and she stilled burned for him. His
hands, one of each of her thighs, pressed down, holding them open
for his gaze. His groan of approval was so animalistic she shivered
all over.

She
watched him through half-lidded eyes as he leaned down and blew on
her clit. Her hips arched off the ground. He threw both her legs
over his shoulders and held her off the snow with her ass in his
hands. Her arms, obediently placed over her head, and her shoulders
were the only thing touching the snow. Then he feasted on her.
Nipping and sucking, licking and teasing.

Her
gasps turned into cries for mercy. Her squirms turned into flails.
But he held her tight and steadily went on, bringing her to the
edge then slowing, over and over.

When
her clit burned and throbbed and she couldn’t take anymore, she
pleaded, “Cristian, please!”

One
more long decadent lick then he flipped her to her hands and knees,
nudging her thighs apart with his. He entered her too slowly and
she pushed back into him. His soft chuckle vibrated through her
body. His hand snaked forward and grabbed her breast. As he thrust
in and out, he pinched and tortured her nipples, and she moaned in
delight. His thrusts grew harder and his hand moved down to her
swollen clit.

“
Ahhh…yes!” she cried. He teased her clit lightly and her
pleasure grew to an intensity she’d never experienced.

“
Oh, God, Natalia. You’re perfect,” he panted,
driving into her over and over. Just when she was about to climax,
he leaned over her and bit into her shoulder, pinning her while he
finished inside her. “
Mine
.”

Yours
. The sharp pain of the bite shot straight to her clit and
she screamed. She was immobile, helpless under his stronger body.
It was so carnal, so erotic. And fucking hot as hell.

“
Yes!” The world fell apart and the only thing that existed
was Cristian. He sent her soaring in pleasure then tumbling and
spinning back down to earth. She cried out in ecstasy as he growled
and spilled inside her.

They
didn’t move – couldn’t move – for a minute though the cold snow
seeped through what little clothing she had on, reminding her where
she was. His heavy breaths warmed her back as her heart slowed to a
steady beat. When they finally rose from the ground, Natalia winced
from her bruised ribs and punctured leg.

Cristian’s nostrils flared as he looked her over. “Bastard
died too easily.”

“
I’m
all right.” She barely got the words out before Cristian scooped
her into his arms and carried her to the chalet, grabbing up her
pants on the way. She sighed and acquiesced though he was the one
with a giant gouge in his neck.

With
a well-placed kick, the door burst open, splintering the
frame.

“
Was
that really necessary? I could’ve –”

“
Hush.” He set her gently on the sofa facing a hearth then
slammed the door shut. When he turned to face her, his expression
hardened, utter determination written all over it. He stood over
her, shoulders squared, lips pursed. “You’re going to drink my
blood, Natalia,” he said quietly, but more authoritative than she’d
ever heard him. “And you are not going to argue –”

When
she opened her mouth to do just that, he bared his teeth and she
clamped it shut again.

“
I
said you are not going to argue or, by all that is holy, you will
not like the consequence.”

Consequence? She shuddered.

He
dropped down to his knees in front of her and narrowed his eyes.
“You are going to take my blood because I offer it freely. As your
man it’s my right to heal you. Are we in agreement?”

Stunned, she gave in with a nod. He scooted her over then
took the seat next to her and motioned her forward.

“
Will you at least put a towel on the bite on your neck? I
don’t want my mouth near the Slayer’s stench.” It was a good excuse
to get him to put pressure on the wound at least.

Reluctantly, he walked to the bathroom and came back with a
towel pressed onto the bloody bite marks. He threw her a second
towel and she wiped her neck where he’d bled on her.

When
they both cleaned up a bit, he sat back down on the couch. “I’ve
waited long enough.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her to him.
“Drink.”

His
pulse pounded under his skin and her mouth watered. She tried to
ignore the towel draped over one side of his neck and concentrated
on the other side. Drinking from an injured man just seemed wrong.
But apparently, the alpha was putting his furry paw down. So she
leaned in and bit into his flesh.

Cristian groaned and lay back on the couch, pulling her on
top of him. While she drank, he rubbed his hand up and down her
back, then over her ass. She sighed as her body repaired the
damaged muscles, knit together broken skin. Feeding had always been
about fulfilling a need. But, by gods, she could get addicted to
his blood – to him. The way her body conformed to his, the taste,
his seductive scent, his heartbeat pounding under hers, it just
felt right. Like he was made for her. Shocked at the revelation,
she withdrew her fangs and backed away.

She
stared at him while he wiped the dripping blood with the towel, a
satisfied smile on his face. Then he looked her over, the smile
fading to a frown. “You’re cold,” he said when she
shivered.

Before she could answer, he gathered her into his arms and
carried her toward one of the bedrooms.

“
Put
me down,” she ordered. “I’m healed. You’re the one who’s hurt,
dummy. Let –”

He
cut her off with a punishing kiss. “We have to do something about
that mouth,” he said when he pulled away. “It’s not nice to call
your alpha names,
draga mea
.”

She
glowered at him. “My alpha my ass.”

He
tossed her onto one of the beds then knelt in front of her and
lifted the hem of her shirt.

“
What are you doing?” she snapped. “It’s
freezing.”

“
The
shirt’s wet from the snow.” He pulled it off of her then ripped the
bra off as well. “Get under the covers. I’ll have a fire going in
no time.”

She
obeyed, huddling under the blankets as Cristian built a fire with
wood and matches from the kitchen. Broad shoulders and a corded
muscular back handled the logs with ease. Smooth skin, tanned from
work in the summer sun, glistened with sweat. He was a vision of
masculinity. She’d have never guessed such strength would excite
her. She was a badass vampire assassin, yes, but Cristian had a way
of making her feel feminine, while still respecting who she
was.

“
Come under the covers,” she said once the fire crackled
steadily. Still naked and bleeding, she worried he’d pass
out.

He
smirked. “I’m glad to hear you’re concerned about me, but I’m
hardier than you think.” He sauntered to the one window and shut
the drapes firmly then tossed a first aid kit on the
bed.

She
opened it. “Sit down. Let me patch your shoulder.”

He
plopped down on the edge of the bed and it dipped under his
weight.

Natalia rose up on her knees and studied the wound. “He got
you good.”

Cristian chuckled. “Did you see the rolling head? Who got
who good?”

Her
lips twitched as she pressed a piece of gauze onto each set of
punctures. “Yes, the mighty alpha triumphs over the evil villain.
Should I bat my lashes and swoon?”

He
winced when she dabbed antiseptic cream on each wound. “As a matter
of fact, you should. It’s about time you show some appreciation for
my saving your ass all the time.”

“
Once,” she snapped. “Only once. And I didn’t need saving
this time, you dense Neanderthal.”

His
teeth gently clamped onto her nipple, which she just realized had
been dangling in his face. She froze, trying to ignore the thrill
that raced down her spine.

He
held it between his teeth for a few seconds then released it and
kissed the small sting away. “What did I tell you about name
calling?”

When
she got control of her shallow breaths, she looked him over for
more injuries. Just a few minor scrapes and bruises. His hand slid
up her thigh and she slapped it away. “Be a good patient and stop
distracting me. You’re bleeding all over the place and there’s no
shower. I’m not sleeping in crusty, bloody sheets.” She reached
back for a few large bandages. “Unless you want to take this bed
and I’ll sleep in a different one.”

“
Like hell, woman.” His lips curled into a sexy grin. “I’ve
caught you now and I’m not letting you go.”

She
stilled.
Not
letting her go?
Her heart thudded in her chest, a sinking feeling growing
in her belly. Not letting her go was exactly what she was afraid
of. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined what life with him
would be like. The faces from his pack, crumpled in pure hatred
tore through her mind. And it wasn’t just the hatred of his pack.
The witches would take her gift away – bending metal, immunity to
silver – if she didn’t hunt rogues for them. And Cristian would
never let her hunt down his kind. His pack would resent her even
more and he’d lose their respect. A frustrated growl left her
throat. All these years she’d thought herself independent. Free.
But was she really? No, she was owned. By two people with opposite
goals. Both were tugging her in different directions. Her chest
tightened. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Countless times, she’d been caught, locked in silver cages,
beaten with silver weapons. Shot through the heart, the spine, the
brain. Stabbed. Poked. Carved up like a turkey. She’d have been
dead a thousand times over without her gift. But she’d gotten
revenge on each and every one of her captors. The thought of losing
her gift, being vulnerable again, it made her heart race. She’d
vowed to herself she’d never be a victim again. No, she couldn’t
give it up. Not even for a man she might grow to love.

Cristian twisted and pulled her onto his lap. Tension eased
as soon as she felt his arms around her. “Get some rest, baby,” he
said between kisses. “We have a lot to talk about
tomorrow.”

She
sighed and closed her eyes. A lot to talk about, indeed. She’d let
down her guard. Twice! Rolling around in the snow, laughing like a
giddy child, feeling…things she had no right to feel. And then
she’d actually submitted to him. She’d bared her throat and made
herself vulnerable to a werewolf. What the fuck was she
thinking?

Cristian had managed to drag her, momentarily, into
Pretty Fluffy La-La Land where everything worked out just because
he said so. Well, reality was a cold-hearted bitch. And people who
believed in idealistic delusions deserved to be shot for screwing
with the rest of the world. Especially Cristian, who made her…feel
things she could never act on. Her eyes stung with the unshed tears
she pushed back. He made her believe in things she could never
have.

Steeling herself for his reaction, she stood up from
his lap then stated calmly, “Cristian, you know I can’t go with
you. This was fun but…it has to end.”

An amused sparkle lit up his eyes. “No.”

“No?”

He arched a brow. “You heard me. Now get your ass
back in bed.”

This was going to be more difficult than she
thought.

Cristian smirked as he watched a dozen emotions
flicker over her face. At last she ended on a stubborn
determination. Well, it was time for her to learn just how stubborn
he could be too.

“Natalia, I’m in no mood for your hot and cold
routine. I’m tired. You’re not going anywhere. Don’t make me pin
you to the bed to prove it.”

He might as well have been talking to the wall. She
spun around and pulled on her pants and shirt. He ground his teeth
in frustration. “Natalia. Look at me.”

When she turned back around, her eyes had glazed over
with an iciness that made him want to weep. His heart pounded in
his chest where panic welled up so full it almost hurt. The soft
woman who made love in the shower and laughed in the snow was gone.
The Ice Queen was back.