He shook his head. “No. No one has been here in over twenty years, and I doubt my uncle Fydor even knows it exists.”
A shiver racked his body, and he winced. It must have hurt to have his muscles contract when he was riddled with bullet holes—bullets he had taken to protect her. His unselfishness was humbling. She’d thought so poorly of him, when perhaps it was only his nature and not his actions she’d taken into account. Even though he’d been a jerk about vampires and her weakness, he’d always protected her. And even though it was clear he wanted her in the hotel, he hadn’t pushed himself on her. She was also certain that the only reason he approached Stefan was because he knew she would benefit from it—again, he had put his comfort aside to see to hers.
And as far as his lying to her, though she didn’t like it, she kind of understood it. How well would it have gone over if he had told her, “Hey, you hate my guts, but I’m your mate for life”?
And she had hated him. Part of her still did, but it wasn’t him, per se; it was what had happened to her life since she met him, but that wasn’t his fault. Hell, his life was just as screwed up as hers since their meeting. Finding out his mate was a vampire couldn’t have been great news, and now his own uncle was trying to kill him.
He shuddered again from the cold.
“It’s warmer over here,” she said. “I have the fur thing and more blankets.”
It was clear from his furrowed brow that he was uncertain whether she was genuine or not. Perhaps he thought she was taunting.
Could she stand being that close to him while he still smelled of blood? Yes. She could. Look what he was enduring for her. He had to be in horrible pain.
“Please come over here. We’ll both be more comfortable.”
He rose and walked to her bed. “Are you sure? I’m still bleeding.”
She lifted the covers. “I’m positive. It’ll just be like being in a candy store while on a diet. I have tremendous self-control.”
If only it were just the blood. It was him she craved. But he was hurt. This was safe.
He slipped under the covers behind her and spooned against her body, pulling her close. Immediately, she felt warmer. Infinitely warmer, especially in a few select places. Holy shit, he smelled good. Edible. Maybe this wasn’t going to work after all.
Nikolai shifted slightly so as not to press his erection against her. The combined body heat was a great idea, and he didn’t want her to regret it because one part of his body was more grateful than others.
Her hair still smelled like the bubble bath at the Time Folder’s house. His mind drifted to the way her flesh felt in the bathtub, and he got even harder.
She took a deep breath through her nose and squirmed. He was sure if he reached down inside those pajama pants, he’d find her wet.
He fought off a groan.
No. He couldn’t do that. He had to respect her wishes.
What were her wishes? Right now, he knew she wished she could have his blood—she wanted it so badly she was aching. Perhaps if he helped her with the ache, it would help the blood lust as well.
He reached between them and adjusted himself to no avail. The thought of getting her off was almost enough to drive him over the edge.
“I need to touch you,” he whispered in her ear.
Her body tightened. Other than that, she didn’t respond, nor did she breathe.
“Let me touch you, Elena. It will help with the craving you feel.” And it would help distract him from his pain to bring her pleasure.
She let her breath out slowly, not answering either way. Still, she hadn’t said no. Perhaps she was embarrassed to say yes. Humans were odd that way.
“You can stay fully dressed. I swear I will not… I won’t…”
Still, she didn’t answer, but she pushed back against him and gasped when her ass met his erection. He suppressed the urge to push back. He’d never wanted anyone like he wanted this woman, and here he was in bed with her, too full of bullet holes to do what his body demanded. Still, he could do enough if she’d let him. Her slender body squirmed in his arms, and that was sufficient invitation.
Her back was still to him, pressed tightly against his body. Slowly and deliberately, he slid his hand over her side, and the air rushed out of her lungs in a whoosh. He stilled, fingers just dipped inside the waistband. “With only my hand and your mind, okay? We can make you feel so much better.” She whimpered, and he moved his fingers only fractionally lower. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she said, finally, and he almost came at the mere word. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she’d given him permission to touch her or that she admitted to trusting him that pleased him the most. Suddenly, he wasn’t cold anymore. He was warm everywhere.