“Aww. Isn’t that romantic?” Stefan said from the bathroom door. “Sweeter words have never been uttered. I bet you are a real winner on Valentine’s Day, Slayer.”
Elena could feel Nikolai’s tension through his grip on her ankle, but he said nothing.
“My tailor and his assistant are here when you two lovebirds decide to leave the nest. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of selecting some things from the suitcase to be adapted to accommodate the cord, Elena. You’re going to be a bit more of a challenge, Itzov. They brought some items that might fit, though.” He winked at Elena. “No rush. They won’t be ready for a while.” This time, he shut the door.
After he’d been gone a moment, Nikolai loosened his grip on her ankle and stroked circles with his thumb as he stared into space. She cleared her throat. “I can’t decide whether he likes you or hates you.”
His gold eyes met hers, thumb still making lazy circles. She’d never been drawn to anyone with this kind of intensity, and it unnerved her. Then he moved his face within inches of hers, and she forced herself not to lean in. “How about you, Elena? Do you like me or hate me?” he asked. His gaze darted to her lips, then back to her eyes.
And she was lost.
What did she have to lose? She was as good as dead anyway. She’d seen the monster in the mirror herself. How long before it won? Months? Weeks? Hours? And still, his thumb circled as his hand slid past her knee to her thigh, shooting delicious sparks up her spine.
She closed her eyes and breathed in. There was no more lingering smell of blood, only fragrant bubbles and the distinct odor of Nikolai, which at this moment was like a drug she could get hooked on if she did it even once. But she might be dead any hour now, and once might be all she could ever have.
“You tremble,” he whispered against her mouth.
“You scare me.”
His hand had stilled. “I swear to not hurt you. I could never hurt you.”
She was afraid to open her eyes and see his face. He sounded so sincere. “Except when you kill me.”
“No pain. Only pleasure.”
And then, he slid his hand up and gently stroked across her as his lips met hers. She gasped at the effect of his touch. It was as if every nerve ending in her body were exposed. Her body jerked, and he smiled against her lips.
“Easy,” he whispered, trailing his fingers up her abdomen to the swell of her breast. He deepened the kiss, twining his tongue with hers and his fingers into the hair at her nape . “Relax,” he murmured, but nothing in Elena could relax.
More. She needed more of him and his velvet tongue and his talented fingers that moved from one breast to the other, torturing her until she thought she might scream. Relax? Not a chance. This was wrong and dangerous, and honestly, downright stupid, but she’d never wanted anything like she wanted Nikolai. And, God, what he could do with his hands…
“Time’s up,” Stefan called from the other side of the door, jarring them to reality with several hard knocks.
“Shit,” Nikolai growled.
He pulled away, and she whimpered. Panting, she stared at him as he held her at arm’s length. Wide shoulders covered in those strange, and at the moment, painfully sexy markings—everything about him turned her on. But it shouldn’t.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out through his teeth. “I might have to kill a Time Folder.”
“You wouldn’t,” she said, half believing him from the look on his face. He was a killer after all.
He shrugged and then smiled. “I can’t. They can only destroy themselves, which is lucky for him.”
As she came back down to earth and the magic faded, she was grateful for the interruption. This man, Slayer, whatever he was, was dangerous. And even though her body disagreed vehemently, sex with him was a bad idea.
He stood and wrapped himself in a towel, but not before she got an eyeful of what he’d had under those bubbles. What in the world would she have done with all that? There was no way it would have worked out logistically, much less any other way.
She stared down at the cord that bound him to her—the one that held her prisoner. They were enemies. He had said so himself. She would need to keep her horny dying wishes to herself. Some things just weren’t meant to be. She stood and wrapped up in a towel as quickly as possible.
What had she been thinking? This guy was death. Death and sex didn’t mix. She had to keep herself under control and not let this ever happen again.
Chapter Seven