Grave Vengeance (16 page)

A
lmost two hours had passed and still no sign of Dmitri. In that time, Gwen checked the pipes, turned on the hot water heater, washed her dirty clothes in the bathtub, and laid them out by the fireplace to dry.

Restless and edgy, she ignored the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she peered out the cabin’s front window. Nothing. Not a sign of the man who’d kissed her with such a ravenous intensity it made her toes curl against the floor.

She’d been thinking about that kiss ever since he’d stormed out of the cabin. The feel of his lips, the stroke of his tongue. Without a doubt, the man had an incredible mouth and damn well knew how to use it. Beneath the stony exterior was the heart of a passionate man. And now that she’d sampled that passion, she wanted a whole lot more.

Even though it was only a little past noon, the dense cloud cover made it look like dusk. The snow had picked up, cutting visibility to a few hundred feet. Where did he go? Was he all right?

Nightmare scenarios crept into her mind. What if he got hurt and couldn’t move? Were there wolves or bears in this part of the country? She honestly had no idea. Granted, Dmitri was a dangerous man, but even with his Glock, he could only do so much against a pack of hungry carnivores.

Her thoughts drifted to Edwin Pierce, and for some strange reason, he didn’t worry her as much as the wolves. After all, Dmitri was skilled at hunting humans, and he wouldn’t think twice about plugging the asshole. Then again, if Pierce came with reinforcements, Dmitri would be at a disadvantage.

Her breath caught at the sight of a hazy figure in the distance. Whatever it was, it looked big, and it appeared to be advancing toward the cabin. She squinted, trying to see better. Through the haze, she made out the form of a man, but couldn’t tell if it was Dmitri or Pierce. In case it was Pierce, she grabbed the shotgun Dmitri had left by the door and racked a round in the chamber.

Time stretched as the person drew closer. Gwen chewed on her lower lip, her eyes straining to pull the figure into focus. Closer. Closer. Her grip on the gun tightened as her nerves began to fray. At last, the person came close enough for her to get a good look, and her tense shoulders sagged with relief.

Dmitri. A fishing rod was slung over his right shoulder, while a bucket swung from his left hand. His body language was relaxed, and he walked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

She waited until he got closer before opening the door, and when she did, the cold blasted right through her. “Where have you been?”

His nose, cheeks, and the tips of his ears were beet red. He glanced at the fishing rod. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Smart-ass.” Relief gave way to anger as she set the shotgun aside. “You could have told me where you went. I was worried.”

He scoffed as he climbed the steps to the front porch and leaned the pole against the wall by the door. “You worry too much. I can handle myself.”

“Of course you can,” she snapped. Blocking the doorway, she cocked a hand on her hip and glared at him. “But what if Pierce and his buddies had found the cabin while you were out communing with nature?”

That wiped the smile off his mouth. “I wasn’t far.”

“It doesn’t matter. You left me. Alone. And you didn’t even tell me where you were going or when you’d be back.” Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she turned on her heel and stormed back inside.

The door clicked shut a few seconds later, and the sound of his boots echoed against the wood floor. Refusing to look back at him, she busied herself rearranging the food in the pantry. She hadn’t meant to snap, but dammit, his casual attitude infuriated her. Had what happened between them meant so little to him? She didn’t think so, but he was so damn good at disguising his emotions it was hard to tell for sure.

Gwen sensed his presence directly behind her; close, but not quite touching.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.” He set the bucket filled with snow on top of the counter and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “I caught a fish,” he said, and for once, his deep voice sounded awkward.

In spite of her anger, a part of her softened. She turned to face him. “Why did you leave?”

Dmitri lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug while he dried his hands with a dishtowel. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.” She raised her gaze, taking in every inch of him until their eyes finally met. “Why did you leave?”

“I—” He hesitated, as if collecting his thoughts, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “I made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yes. A mistake.” His posture straightened, his shoulders pushed back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was . . . inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate my ass. I liked it.”

“Christ, don’t say shit like that.” He dragged a hand through his hair, his gaze bouncing about the room but never settling on anything for long.

She reached out and touched his arm. Tension coiled in his muscles, as if it were taking every ounce of his self-control to keep himself in check. His eyes darkened when she wet her lips, and her mouth went completely dry. “Dmitri, I—”

“Don’t. Just . . . don’t.” Breaking the connection, he backed away like her touch scalded his skin.

“Dammit, why not? Deny it all you want, but I know you feel it too.”

He shook his head, his gaze smoldering as he stared down at her. “I can’t do this, Gwen. It’s not right.”

“Why, because of our past? That’s bullshit and you know it. I’m not the same person I was back then, and neither are you.” She stepped toward him, and this time he didn’t back away. Lightly, she pressed her hands against his chest, his skin hot beneath her fingertips. His heart thudded beneath her open palm, and damn if that didn’t turn her on. She inhaled, and the scent of him invaded her senses, so dark, and musky, and inherently male.

Steeling her courage, she laid it all on the line. “God help me, but I want you, Dmitri. Don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t, but I also can’t change the way I feel.”

Teeth gritted, he cursed under his breath. The tremor in his voice caught her off guard when he said, “Gwenya. Please.”

Rising onto her tiptoes, Gwen touched a hand to the side of his face. He hadn’t shaved since they left Virginia, and his jaw was bristly with stubble. She brushed her thumb against his cheek, and his head bent slightly toward her touch.

“Don’t you understand?” Her voice sounded rough to her own ears. “Every time I look at you, every time I hear your voice, every time you touch me . . . Jeez, fifty-three years as a reaper, and the only time I ever feel alive is when I’m around you. I didn’t realize what I’d been missing until now. And now that I know, I’ll be damned if I let it slip away.”

Slowly, her hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck. His eyes darkened, and he offered no resistance when she brought his head down to hers. This close, they shared the same air. She pressed her lips against his, and his big body shivered. The flare of heat, the spike in her blood, it was enough to make her a little dizzy.

An anguished growl rumbled from deep in his chest when she nipped his bottom lip. After a second’s hesitation, he returned the kiss with a hunger that ripped the air from her lungs. His muscles bunched beneath her touch, like a jungle cat preparing to pounce. She groaned against his mouth, her legs growing weak right before he jerked away.

He cursed again, this time in Russian. Jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut, his face twisted in a look of pure torment.

“Dmitri, I—”

Raw yearning burned in his eyes when they flew open. His hands were balled into fists, his fingernails biting into his palms. “You what?” he snarled, and the heat of his words blew across her cheek.

“I . . . I . . .” She swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to say. The future of their relationship hinged on her answer, and she desperately didn’t want to screw it up. She knew he wanted her, could see the evidence bulging against the fly of his jeans, but there was something holding him back. Their past. She could see it clearly in his eyes. Before moving forward, she needed to make amends for the damage she’d inflicted. To do that, he’d want—and more importantly, he’d need—something far more powerful than pleasure.

Control.

She’d stolen that from him all those years ago. Restrained him. Drugged him. Stripped him of his dignity and humanity. He’d borne those scars for over half a century. And while she could never erase those memories, she could surrender some of that lost control.

“I need you, Dmitri.” She could barely hear her voice over the pounding of her heart. “Please.”

He stared at her for the longest time, warring emotions playing over his face. Desire and distrust. Pain and longing. A low growl rumbled in his chest right before his mouth claimed hers, stealing her breath and making it his own.

Oh, yes.
Heat swelled between her thighs as his tongue stroked hers, sparking a need so fierce she almost whimpered. He grabbed her hips and held her close, his erection pressing against her: hard, hot, and ready to take her right where she stood. Head spinning, she fisted his shirt to keep her balance.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it began. Dmitri pulled back, his pupils so dilated the blue of his irises was barely visible. His chest expanded with each ragged inhale, straining against the confines of his shirt. Then his eyes locked with hers, his mouth curving up into something too feral to count as a smile.

His voice was almost a growl when he said, “Take off your clothes.”

 

Dmitri watched as Gwen’s mouth dropped open. Threaded between the layers of desire, there was a wild look in her eyes. She wanted this as badly as he did. Maybe more. “What are you waiting for? Strip. Now.”

A dark flush worked its way across her high cheekbones. She licked her lips, and he couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like wrapped around his cock. With her gaze riveted to his, she toed off her shoes. Eager fingers unbuttoned the fly of her jeans and yanked the zipper down.

“Not so fast,” he barked.

A puzzled expression crossed over her, but then she regained her composure and nodded in compliance.

Slowly, deliberately, she pushed the denim past the swell of her hips. The material slid down her toned legs and pooled around her feet. The shirt came off next, an inch at a time, and when it hit the floor Dmitri’s self-control began to unravel.

All that smooth, bare skin. All his for the taking. The bra was black, the panties were blue, and all of the thoughts in his head revolved around tearing them off. With his teeth. He stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to touch her.

“Now the rest,” he said, his voice thick in his throat.

She licked her lips again and his dick strained against his jeans.

Reaching behind her back, she unfastened the clasp to her bra. The straps slid down the length of her arms, and then the garment dropped to the floor. Before long, the panties followed, the scrap of fabric coming to rest on top of her jeans.

Holy shit, she was sublime. Dmitri walked a slow circle around her, inspecting every square inch of her body, from head to toes and back again, drinking in the sight of naked flesh and long, lean muscles. The curve of her waist. The flare of her hips. Her breasts were small yet more than enough to fill his mouth, her ass firm and nicely rounded.

She watched him watching her, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Do I pass inspection?”

“Did I say you could speak?”

Her mouth opened, but she closed it without saying anything.

“Good girl. Don’t move a muscle until I say you can.” He couldn’t decide where he wanted to begin. Normally, he was an ass man, but her breasts were making his mouth water. A light dusting of freckles dotted her chest, and he found them oddly arousing. He wanted to suck her nipples until she cried out his name and begged him to fuck her brains out. But instead, his fingers tenderly stroked the soft skin along the side of her neck. It was the place where he’d hurt her a few nights before, and he felt compelled to replace the memory with something more pleasant.

Gwen gasped when his mouth replaced his hand, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear. He traced a line with his tongue and she trembled, a soft moan brushing past those lush lips.

Her skin tasted as sweet as he’d imagined. Every muscle in his body hardened. A part of him wanted to drag her to the floor and take her hard like a mindless animal. But a much larger part wanted to savor this moment of absolute control, making her submit to his every demand before giving in to the pleasure.

Leaning close, he took in the scent of her arousal. He couldn’t wait to taste that as well. “Wall or bed?” he rumbled into her ear.

She swallowed so hard he could hear it. “I get a choice?”

“It’s the only one you’re getting, so make it count.” When he palmed her breast, she moaned and arched against him.

“Bed,” she breathed.

“Good choice. I doubt you’ll have the strength to stand by the time I’m finished with you.” He felt her tremble, and he shivered in response.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Without bothering to turn down the sheets, he laid her on the bed and stared down at her naked body.

“Leave them open,” he barked when she started to close her legs.

A crimson blush colored her cheeks, but she followed his command without complaint. He drank in the sight of her in all her glory, so breathtaking in the morning light. The toned skin, those slender lines, it was enough to make a grown man weak at the knees.

Eyes never leaving hers, he reached for his belt, and it was her turn to stare as he stripped off his clothes. Gwen watched him with unwashed hunger in her eyes, her tongue darting out again to wet her lips. It pleased him to know she found his body attractive and was probably imagining how he planned to fuck her. A few ideas ran through his mind as well, and by the time he tossed his boxer briefs to the floor, his dick was harder than concrete.