Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(34)

Elena thought she would die when he traced his fingers along the line of the elastic at the top of the pajama pants, then slipped them just underneath and stilled. No. No, keep moving. He was asking for her permission.

“Yes.” She had no other possible answer. Her body was screaming for his blood, for his touch, for anything he’d give her.

His lips grazed the skin of her neck, and she trembled, thrills shooting through her, pooling low in her body. And then he moved his hand, pausing right at the top of her curls, then tracing lightly back up in a maddening, erotic retreat. He smiled against her neck as she shuddered.

“So responsive,” he said. “You’re going to come so hard. You need to come hard, don’t you?”

Holy crap. How was she supposed to answer that? “I…”

Nikolai’s hand glided down again, this time dipping all the way between her legs, and her body jerked at the contact. Current buzzed through her. He paused and simply pressed his hand against her. “Just one hand this time, but imagine how it will feel when I use my whole body.”

She bit her lip and groaned at the image his words produced. The pressure was perfect, and she rocked against his hand. She’d never felt like this, not that she’d had tons of experience, but she’d had enough to know this wasn’t normal. She rocked against him again, and he chuckled. He thrust his erection against her backside and made a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest, causing her to nearly reach her breaking point.

Too much. It was too much. But not enough, somehow. Then he trailed his hand lower and slid a finger between her folds, then deep inside her. This time she groaned along with him.

“Imagine my tongue right…” He slid his finger out and straight to her most tender spot. “Here.” Then he applied pressure, making small circles.

Tiny electric pulses shot through her, and she gasped for air.

His lips tickled her ear as he spoke. “One hand and your mind is all it takes—your brilliant, inventive mind. Imagine what our bodies could do together. Think of the possibilities, Elena.”

But she couldn’t think of anything. She was so close. She could only feel his talented fingers between her legs, his big body at her back, and his warm breath on her neck.

Relentlessly, he circled with his fingers until she thought she might scream, and then he pressed his palm against her as a finger slid deep inside, and out, again and again. Then another finger joined the first, and he pushed deeper.

“So wet,” he whispered.

She pushed back against his hand, setting a tempo that he followed perfectly, keeping just the right amount of pressure.

He was too much. His voice, his words, his touch. Too much.

The rhythm of his breathing matched hers, and it thrilled her to know he was turned on, too. She increased the speed as she bucked into his hand, his fingers filling her and his palm pushing hard against her, causing the most amazing friction. And faster still.

“So close,” he whispered. “It’s right there. You’re ready.”

And she was.

“You need this,” he said. “Come for me now.”

And she did, shattering into a million pieces as she screamed his name.



Nikolai had dreamed about what his fated mate would be like since he was a boy. Before his father’s murder, he had always imagined she would have the attributes of his mother: beautiful, loving, and fiercely loyal. Loyal? No. His mother was the worst kind of traitor.

For twenty years, he’d pushed his mother out of his mind and his heart. She had no place there now. Not when he held Elena in his arms. His mate, who exceeded all expectations.

He couldn’t pull her any closer, but he tried. He wanted to melt into her limp body, still quaking with aftershocks, and become one with her—a sentiment he’d never had in his many centuries of life. But this was how it was supposed to be with the mate fate had assigned. Human. Vampire. At this moment, it didn’t matter. She was his—even if she didn’t fully know it yet.

He kissed her shoulder and then pulled the bearskin up to her neck. “Better?”

She nodded.

She’d called his name out in passion. No greater aphrodisiac existed. He wanted to bring her to climax all over again if for no other reason than to hear her cry his name again. But there were other reasons. He wanted to please her. To see her happy.

She rolled in his arms to face him, placing her hands on his chest. He could feel her intent before her muscles contracted, and he placed his hand over both of hers. “No. Just enjoy the moment.” Her brow furrowed. “Sleep in my arms. That wasn’t intended to prompt an act in kind.”

“But I want…”

He placed his finger over her lips. “I know. And the fact that you want to touch me is enough for now.” The look of disappointment in her eyes tugged at his heart. “I want to be whole when we’re together. I need to heal.”

She sighed and rolled back over again, and more than ever he regretted the circumstances. He finally had broken through and now had to put it on hold because somehow the wood elves had allied with his uncle and had blasted him full of bullets. He kissed her neck and draped his arm across her body. “Sleep. When night comes, I’ll light a fire, and we can talk.”

“What about?”

He had no f*cking idea, but there was nothing more interesting in the world to him than this woman. He wanted to know everything about her. What she liked to eat, her favorite music, the sounds she would make when he was finally deep inside her. Everything. Needing to feel her silky skin, he slid his hand under the hem of her shirt. “Does there have to be an agenda? Can’t we just talk?” She trembled as he cupped her breast. “Do you need to come again?”