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Authors: Christine Feehan

BOOK: Earth Bound
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She moved him in ways he had never expected. He took her hand and raised it to his mouth to press a kiss into the center of her palm. “
Solnyshko moya
, you are asking an impossible task of me. I am incapable of giving you this thing you desire. I am a hunter of men. That's who I am.”

She shook her head. “You're my man. That's who you are.”

He framed her face with his hands and bent his head to hers. Her lips were soft and warm and melted under his. He kissed her gently at first. Tenderly. Love welled up and encompassed him. There was no better place to be than with her. Her mouth was paradise. Hot. Filled with passion.

She gave herself to him tentatively at first. Shyly. Then she let herself go and simply accepted the desire pouring into both of them. Electricity arced between them. Lightning flashed in their veins. A fever of need raged as if they had caught fire and burned hot and pure together.

Gavriil pulled her into his arms, holding her as close as possible. He wanted her in his bed, all skin and heat, her mouth moving over him, sating the urgent demands that were becoming difficult to ignore.

“I love that you want me to have this life with you. I want it too, but I can't be someone I'm not, Lexi. I can't have anyone threatening you and just stay on the sidelines. You know that, don't you?”

She rested her head over his heart. “I want you just as safe as you want me. Can you understand that? You feel invincible, even to me, but you're not. You told me I was your everything. That I'm your world. The reason you
stayed alive. Did it ever occur to you that I feel that exact same way about you?”

He hadn't. He couldn't imagine that the overwhelming emotion he felt for her was duplicated in any way. It didn't seem possible. “I'm so connected to you, Lexi, I can't think straight sometimes,” he admitted.

“You give me panic attacks,” she pointed out, pulling out of his arms with a small smile on her face. “That should count for something.”

He followed her to the center island, where she was clearly putting together a salad. She already had eggs boiling and there were various cuts of meat in bowls. She deftly cut up cucumbers and tomatoes while he chopped scallions.

“I'm serious, Lexi. I want you to tell me who these men are who have threatened you. I know you know them.”

“Sadly, I know you're serious.” She sighed and added fresh croutons to the mix. “I can't stop you, but you might consider you aren't protected here in the United States and if you're caught, you'll be put in jail.”

“Did you think my government protected any of us?” Gavriil raised an eyebrow.

She added avocado to the growing mix of vegetables already in the bowl. “Didn't they?”

“Of course not. They would never admit they sent assassins after anyone. No government is going to admit they have them or would use them to eliminate someone of importance.”

“Why didn't you just walk away from it all?”

He shrugged. “My youngest brother, Ilya, was out in the open. He worked as an Interpol agent, but earlier, they used him in a few compromising covert operations and then threatened to expose him. He would have been killed. When we were boys, both Viktor and I agreed to do whatever was needed as long as they gave Ilya a decent life. For the most part, Sorbacov kept his word and we kept ours.”

“So you're an honorable man.”

She set the bowl of salad on the table and added the various other smaller bowls with other ingredients. He
carried the plates and silverware over while she went back for the dressing.

“I tried to be a man my father would be proud of,” he said.

She smiled at him as she sank into a chair. “I can't imagine that he isn't proud of you. I am. I think you're extraordinary. I still can't believe, when I look at you, that you're sitting opposite me, telling me you want to stay with me.”

“Panic attacks and all.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Not to mention the kissing is superb. I'm all about the kissing.”

She laughed briefly, the worry fading from her eyes, but then she looked directly at him, serious again. “I guess you're going to do whatever it is you feel is right, but promise me, when you do, that you'll always come back to me.”

“Nothing will ever stop me from coming home to you.”

“I'm still going to have Jonas Harrington listen to the messages. I only recognized one voice. The Reverend set up several compounds, not just the one where I was held. The police raided them and quite a few of the key people were taken into custody, but not all of them were found guilty. And not all of them were arrested. I don't necessarily know the others threatening me.”

Gavriil shrugged. “Ilya mentioned Harrington was a good man and that he's married to a Drake. I suppose it won't hurt to have him on our side.”

“I have to work tomorrow. I didn't do much other than replant my lettuce field.”

“This storm is going to last awhile.”

“Through the night, but we'll be able to get a lot done tomorrow.” She pinned him with what she considered was her sternest gaze. “Even if it rains.”

He thought her “stern” eyes were beautiful—all cool mossy green. “Let's have our tea on the porch and watch the storm after dinner,” he suggested.

Her eyes lit up, turned into sparkling emeralds. “I'd love that. I love storms.”

“Wouldn't you know Kiss would deliver in a storm? I
know you don't like sleeping in the bed, but maybe it would be a good idea tonight if you stayed in the room with me so if something goes wrong, we can both help her deliver safely.”

It was a gamble, but he needed a good reason to bring her back to the bedroom. She was obviously interested in the dogs, and she was very compassionate. She gave him a look, but she didn't protest. Gavriil knew when to stay silent now that he knew he was going to get his way.

13

G
AVRIIL
lay listening to the storm. As the night wore on, the rain increased in volume again. The wind howled through the trees and hurled water at the windows in a capricious manner, bending the boughs of the trees so that they sawed against one another loudly.

Lexi lay curled beside him with only a thin sheet separating their bodies. She stayed on her side, turned away from him, but she didn't protest when he curved his body protectively around hers and slid one arm around her waist to hold her to him.

He was aware of her every breath, every movement of her body. He'd taken the tie from her hair and it spilled around him, rich and luxurious, a wealth of dark ruby silk he couldn't stop burying his face in. Just inhaling her scent gave him a hard-on, a thick, painful reminder that his body came alive anytime she was near.

Neither spoke, both listening to the wild music of the night. He dragged her closer to him, pushing his hips tightly against her, so that the thick length of his aching
cock pressed into her buttocks, finding a snug home. He heard her inhale, a raw gasp, but she remained still.

He waited until the tension dissipated before he slipped his hand beneath the thin material of her racerback tee, spreading his fingers to take in as much skin as possible over her narrow rib cage. The tips of his fingers nestled beneath her soft breasts. Again, she stiffened a little, but she didn't protest or move away from him. He held her, keeping his breathing slow and even, willing her to accept his touch on her bare skin.

Gavriil didn't try to hide his need of her or his body's reaction to her. For them to have any kind of a physical relationship, she would have to get used to him touching her, wanting her body, even needing it.

“Do you always sleep in pajamas?” he asked.

“Do you always sleep in the nude?” she countered.

He rubbed his knuckles back and forth gently along the underside of her breasts. “Yes. Clothes bunch up and I have a hard enough time sleeping without that.”

She was silent a moment. He felt her relax even more against him, even pushing her bottom back tighter against his groin. Her buttocks rubbed against him just for a moment, an involuntary reaction he was certain, and he had to close his eyes and allow his body to absorb the rush of heat. For a moment he couldn't breathe with wanting her.

“He said it was wrong to sleep in the nude,” she admitted. “That my body tempted men and dragged them down from their spiritual level. He made me sleep in thick sweats. The only time I didn't have clothes is when he punished me.”

Gavriil felt a cold rage swelling into a tidal wave of pure hatred toward the dead Caine and his disgusting friends.

“I prefer you to tempt my body,
angel moy
. Everything he told you was a lie. Don't let him get into your head like that.”

“Gavriil.” She turned her head and looked at him.

The action pushed her breasts across his hand. He
opened his palm to cup the soft weight to him. She blinked several times, but she didn't protest.

“Tell me,
laskovaya moya
.”

“They branded me. On my thigh. Up high. There's no way to get it off of me.”

He closed his eyes briefly, his face buried in her hair. He'd done something similar and it had to have hurt her—a terrible reminder of Caine taking her freedom.

“Lexi.” He breathed her name. “I'm so sorry. I did the same thing to you. I didn't know. I know it hurt when I put my mark on your palm. I should have waited. I should have asked your consent.”

He slipped one hand free to capture her palm and bring it to his mouth. He pressed kisses into the center. “Believe me,
solnyshko moya
, I'm sorrier than I can tell you.” The more he learned of Caine, the more he feared she would think there were too many similarities.

“Don't,” she replied softly. “Don't even go there. I need to say this to you. I need you to hear what I'm saying.”

He tucked his hand back under her top, needing to stay close and connected.

“I have scars. On my back and the back of my thighs. They're ugly.”

If he could have killed Caine much slower than he had, he would have done so. He would never feel remorse for what he'd done to the man.

“I have scars all over me, front and back, and it doesn't bother you.”

She turned back and snuggled deeper into the pillow. He kept his hand curled around her right breast. Her nipple pressed against the center of his palm.

“It isn't the same and you know it. A man looks . . .
manly
with scars. A woman can look horrible.”

He listened to the rain pounding against their roof, slinging water onto the panes of glass, and he breathed her into his lungs. “You couldn't be ugly to me no matter how many scars you have, Lexi. If that's all that's keeping you
from sleeping in the nude, take off your clothes. Let me see. Let's get it over with and you'll never have to worry about it again.”

He felt her inhale deeply. There was more, and he had to let her get it out. He could tell it was difficult and very important to her.

“My breasts are too big. He made me bind them because . . .”

“Because he liked children not women. You're a woman, Lexi, not a child, and your body is beautiful. Especially to me. Caine can't reach you here, not unless you allow his garbage to color how you feel about your body. Believe me, not him. Take off your clothes and be free. You don't cut your hair and you have to know it's beautiful. Take them off and get rid of his poison.”

He opened his hand and allowed his fingers to massage her breast gently, small caresses. He wanted his mouth there. He could spend hours playing with her full breasts and never tire. He could feel the reaction of her body. Her breasts were quite sensitive. Her hips moved subtly, a restless need building.

“I'm not certain I want to move.” Her admission was shy. Embarrassed. Honest.

Caine really hadn't touched her body. She had served him, not the other way around. Lexi had never experienced a man arousing her in the way Gavriil was. He transferred his finger and thumb to her nipple, tugging and rolling it until he heard her audible gasp. She sat up abruptly, hugging herself, looking down at him with dazed eyes. Her lips were slightly parted and she looked shocked.

“That's how a man who loves a woman touches her, Lexi,” he said, without moving. He watched her face carefully. “He loves her body. He worships her. The reason the sex act is often referred to as making love is because that's what he's doing—he's showing her with his body how much he loves her.”

She nodded her head, her long hair spilling around her face as she sat on the side of the bed staring through the
glass into the night. She took a deep breath. He saw the rise and fall of her breasts against the shine of the window. Very slowly she grasped the hem of her shirt and raised it above her head.

His breath left his lungs in a heated rush. Her rib cage was narrow, emphasizing the full swell of her breasts. She gave another tug and the shirt was off. She didn't hide her breasts from him, but rather turned slightly so he couldn't see her back.

“Do you know how else a man can show his woman how much he loves her?” His voice had gone low. He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back down so that her hair spilled across the pillow and her breasts thrust upward toward the ceiling. Toward his mouth as he rose above her.

He bent his head to her, his tongue tasting her skin, the soft, rose petal skin that drove him crazy. He lapped at her lush mound, stroking her nipple with his tongue, and then using his teeth gently before closing his mouth around her breast, drawing her into heat and fire. With his hand he caressed her other breast, tugging and rolling her nipple while he suckled strongly.

He felt her body's response, the electrical charge running from breast to groin. He slid his hand down her belly, needing the feeling of possession, as she writhed under him, her skin growing hot. She made a small, strangled sound in the back of her throat. At once he was alert, careful not to get lost in the wonder of her body. He lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes went wide with sheer panic.

Lexi's body burned with fever. Her breasts ached and begged for more. Electrical currents ran from her breasts to her most feminine core, a heated magic she hadn't known existed. This was what making love was. This was the feeling of utter and absolute need. Want. Her entire body felt as if it might burst into flames, and deep inside, tension wound tighter and tighter until she nearly screamed for release.

Her body no longer belonged to her. She was Gavriil's. His. His mouth and hands had claimed her, and before she had known what to expect, it was already too late. She
wanted more. Everything. She wanted his mouth and hands on her forever . . .

A sob welled up. If he made her feel like this, what would he expect from her? She knew. She'd had to do such things a million times and the thought had bile rising. She couldn't. She just couldn't. She would never be able to give Gavriil such a beautiful and wondrous gift. She stiffened, her hands going to his shoulder.

Gavriil pulled back immediately, smiling down at her, tucking the hair tumbling around her face behind her ear. “That's how a man should love his woman, Lexi. And that's just the beginning.”

She stared up at him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was close to another panic attack; she could feel her heart racing and there was no way to control her breathing.

His hands were gentle—loving even—as he stroked her hair, small caresses meant to soothe, not arouse.

“Did I frighten you?” His voice low and matter-of-fact.

Lexi bit at her lower lip for a moment and then shook her head, veiling her expression with her lashes. She had to say something so she settled for the truth. “
I
frightened me. I've never felt like that.”

“Like what? Tell me how you felt.”

She felt more confused than ever. He was so amazing. How could he want her so much when she was so broken? “Hot. Wanting. Needing. Really hot. My body didn't feel as if it belonged to me at all.”

“Was it a good feeling?”

She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed steadily on his face, her anchor in a very violent storm. She loved his face, loved everything about him, and she was going to have to save him from himself. Her heart ached.

Gavriil smiled at her serious expression. “I'm going to kiss you, so don't panic. Just a kiss because I find you so adorable and I can't resist you.”

He didn't wait for her consent, he bent his head to hers and took possession of her mouth. Again, he was careful to coax her response rather than demand it, but he was a little
more aggressive, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and dueling with her, holding her closer, his mouth insistent. She was definitely getting the hang of kissing, and just like always, he found himself slipping into another world—one of pure feeling.

Sex had always been rather rote to him, every movement planned and carried out. He dictated to his body when to feel and what to feel. But not with her. Everything was new and real. The world dropped away and there was only the feel of her body melting into his, skin to skin. Her mouth was paradise, a hotbed of pleasure taking him outside himself and pushing away every other experience he'd ever had.

She brushed her fingers through his hair, and his heart reacted. His blood surged hotly. He kissed her again and again because once wasn't enough and never would be.

Gavriil lifted his head, breathing deeply to bring his body under some semblance of control. He loved that she could destroy years and years of discipline and training so easily and not even realize she was doing it.

“You have tears in your eyes again,” he accused.

“I know. You're just so amazing, Gavriil. I don't think there's another man like you in the world. I don't think men stop like you do when they obviously need to keep going.” She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“They do if they love their partner. They should be in tune with her. Now please show me your scars so you never have to worry about that again.”

She stiffened. Her gaze slid away from him. “This is even more difficult now. I want to be perfect for you.”

Lexi wanted to weep until the entire bedroom was flooded with tears. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. He had swept her away from the ugly memories and taken her to a place she'd never been. She hadn't known a woman—or a man—could feel like that. Gavriil had so generously aroused her body and in doing so, she knew he was just as aroused. She would never be able to do the same thing to him. Not ever. The thought made her want to vomit.

No matter how many times she told herself it would be
different because it was Gavriil, she knew she couldn't do it. Now, realizing just how much need he felt, she had to admit defeat. She just couldn't do that to him—tie him to a woman who could never satisfy him in bed—and she couldn't.

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