She trailed her hands back up to his waist again.
…What questions?
“Step in,” she said, picking up a bottle of soap.
The warm water lapping over his skin was heaven. So was having his hair shampooed by possibly the most beautiful woman in the world. With unguarded appreciation, she helped him soap his entire body, and then after he rinsed, she drained the tub and refilled it with fresh, clear water. “How are your hands?”
“What hands?”
Her gaze trailed down his body, pausing at his cock, which had been rock hard since she appeared in his cell. “Yeah, what hands?” she repeated.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, and her brow furrowed.
“Nik, I didn’t abandon you to—”
“Stop. We’ll have centuries to talk about this. Right now, I need your hands on me. If you don’t touch me, I might go mad.”
Turning her back to him, she untied the halter, which slipped to her feet, exposing her pale skin. His cock pulsed and he groaned. There were moments in that cell, when weakness would prevail and he’d contemplate never seeing her again—never hearing her laugh or touching her smooth, soft skin. But, just before he would allow the negativity to pull him under, he’d remember just how strong and smart she was. Somehow, he always knew she’d find a way to free him, and together they’d defeat Fydor.
She slipped off her pants, and it took all he had not to touch himself to relieve the ache at the sight of her round, perfect ass—an ass he needed to get his hands on immediately, now that they had feeling again. Then she turned, and his breath caught. A fresh set of markings ran from under her breasts to her navel. Mesmerized, he couldn’t take his eyes off the new hieroglyphs. “What do they say?”
“They say, I need you inside me right now, Nik. That my body is on fire for you.” She pulled the drain on the tub and stepped in, with a slender foot on either side of his waist and crouched over him. “That I missed you.” She took him in hand and positioned him, and in one movement, pushed down, taking him fully inside her body. His entire world tilted. The overwhelming heat and tightness of her—the rightness of her—took his breath away.
Gripping the edge of the tub, he almost came on the spot. Simply being inside her made all the suffering of the last days worthwhile. Remaining absolutely silent, he took a shuddering breath through his nose and stared into her fascinating purple eyes.
“You are very, very quiet, Nik.” Her teasing grin made him even harder. “Bear got your tongue?”
“Empaths,” he whispered.
“All gone.” She put her hands on his shoulders and rocked forward, then back, taking him even deeper. Then did it again. “Vlad relocated them for a few days. Feel free to shout my name at any time now.” She increased her speed, and he placed his hands on her thighs, loving the feel of her muscles flexing as she rode him.
“My God.”
“Elena is sufficient.” Faster still, she moved, breasts bouncing as her body slapped against his in the wet tub. “Missed you,” she said in a strained voice.
Missing her didn’t begin to cover it. He loved her. Needed her like he needed air. She threw her head back and ground against him even harder until he was barely hanging on by a thread, his whole body humming with energy and pleasure. Nothing could be this right. “Need you to come,” she whispered.
No problem there. When he felt the waves of her climax begin, he grabbed her ass and pulled her down against him, driving up as hard as he could, joining her. And, yes, even shouting her name.
Elena popped another grape in her mouth while Nik finished off his second steak. “Nothing like room service,” she said.
Obviously, if he had thought she’d betrayed him, he was well over it based on his reaction to her and his repeated promises to make love to her all day and night until they returned to the fortress to take on Fydor.
His color had returned, and the injuries were fading to white scars. As she lay on the bed next to him, it was hard to recall her life before he entered it. Her memories of it since were frighteningly clear, though. Vlad had been right: perfect recall was more of a curse than a gift. It was much easier to justify actions when bias was involved. When she recalled Nik taking her prisoner now, she no longer saw it with the self-righteous indignation of a human being ripped from her life; she saw his side, too. A confused, betrayed Slayer wanting revenge for the death of a man he loved. He had never hated her. He had hated vampires—a gift from his uncle.
Part of her hoped this ability would fade soon. Another knew that as Uniter, it would serve her well to see all sides. It was like mind reading, actually… just after the fact.
“Your thoughts are far away,” he said, standing to place the tray on the floor next to the bed.