Grave Vengeance (17 page)

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Authors: Lori Sjoberg

BOOK: Grave Vengeance
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Dmitri stretched out on the bed beside her and claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss. When her lips parted, his tongue slipped inside, and oh, she tasted like heaven. He took the kiss deeper, sinking into her taste, her scent, her softness. Driven by desire, he slipped his hand between her thighs, and when his fingers brushed her sex, she gasped.
“I’m going to take you so hard you’ll feel me for a week.” He slid two fingers inside her wet heat, and she made a soft keening sound. “Every time you move. Every time you breathe. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes,” Gwen said on the heels of a sigh. Her hips bucked against his hand. “Please.”
It was the “please” that did him in, the total desperation filling her voice that made his heart lurch. Part of him reveled in making this strong woman beg, but the rest of him . . . he wanted her, yes, but not like that. In truth, he preferred an active partner in the bedroom, a woman who gave as good as she got.
And he suspected that’s what he’d get with his Gwenya.
He paused.
My Gwenya.
The notion hit him like a brick between the eyes, and it pleased him more than he cared to admit.
“What’s wrong?” A pair of creases formed between her eyebrows.
“Nothing,
zaika moya
. Just enjoying the view.” His fingers played, spreading her, stroking her, and he relished her throaty moans of pleasure. The way she responded, the look in her eyes—it was almost more than he could bear. Normally, he used sex to blow off steam, an act to banish the stress of the day without the rigors of emotional involvement. But this . . . this was different. What was it about Gwen that stripped his defenses and made him ache at the same time?
Giving in to temptation, Dmitri dipped his head and sucked one of her nipples between his lips. Gwen arched her back to meet his mouth, her palm cradling the nape of his neck. Those slender fingers raked through his hair, digging with just enough pressure to skirt the border between pleasure and pain.
The need to take her spiked in his blood. He wanted her mouth on his skin. Her legs around his waist. But most of all, he wanted to be inside her.
“Come for me, Gwenya.” He rubbed her clit with his thumb in small, gentle circles, loving the way her moans grew louder and louder. Consumed by lust, he drove her higher, until at last, she threw her head back against the pillows as her body erupted in orgasm. He watched with a sense of wonder as euphoria swamped her body, her face, her eyes. She ground against his hand, riding the pleasure until it finally began to recede.
Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself between her legs. His aching shaft rubbed against her wet core, and he almost lost the ability to form coherent thought. “Ready?” he asked, his voice rough.
Her soft hands on his body made him even harder. “What are you waiting for?” She gave him a satisfied grin. “Let’s see what you got.”
Dmitri couldn’t put a name to the way he was feeling, so he gave in to his animal instincts. He surged into her so damn hard she must have felt it in her throat.
Gwen groaned out loud, her hips rising up to meet his thrust, and the sweet heat of her body engulfed him.
With his teeth clenched and sweat beading his forehead, Dmitri began moving his hips. He pulled almost all the way out of her before thrusting all the way back in. She felt so good, so hot, so tight, that he lost himself in the blinding pleasure. He pushed one of her legs higher, farther apart from the other, and she whimpered when he hit a good spot. His rhythm quickened, his hips pumping faster, harder as the pressure built in his body. The ache in his balls turned into a throb when she scored his back with her nails.
“Lower,” he growled through gritted teeth.
Gwen did as he asked, her short little nails digging into his ass the way he loved.
Heat rose in his blood and spiraled tight, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Already, he felt the surge mounting in his shaft, like a wall of water about to burst through a dam. He dipped his head and licked the hollow of her neck before grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin.
Her hips jerked off the mattress when she came this time. She let out a piercing cry, the sound so garbled he barely recognized his own name. A look of pure ecstasy washed over her face, filling him with masculine satisfaction and emotions he couldn’t deny. Her inner walls squeezed and pulsed around him, and he lost all sense of control.
Deeper and deeper. Harder and faster. A few more thrusts and he surrendered to the sea of sensations, lost in the waves as the orgasm swept through his body like a flash flood. Mindless, breathless, his hips pumping until the exquisite agony in his body subsided.
Dmitri collapsed onto his elbows, his face buried in Gwen’s hair. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her, and the slide of his shaft made them both groan. He rolled to the left, taking her with him, relishing the feel of their sweat-slicked bodies stuck together.
Now that his breathing had returned to normal, he noticed how silent she’d become. It wasn’t like her, and that dulled his euphoria.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he stroked her hair. It felt like silk between his fingers. “Did I hurt you?”
Satisfaction softened Gwen’s eyes when she lifted her head to peer up at him. “I’m fine, Red. Just enjoying the glow.”
Her fingers toyed with the hairs on his chest before moving lower. Lower. Lower.
Ah, yes.
His balls tightened as desire spiked his blood, and he rolled her onto her back.
She grinned up at him, her laughter low and rich. “Pretty fast recovery time you got there.”
“It’s one of the benefits of being a reaper. Think you can handle it?”
Her grin broadened to a smile. “Only one way to find out.”
 
There wasn’t a spot on Gwen’s body that Dmitri hadn’t licked, sucked, stroked, or filled. Like a man possessed, he’d fucked her so thoroughly, so completely, so fiercely, that for a time she wondered if she’d live through it. Even now, she felt the echoes of pleasure rippling through every molecule in her body.
Sometime after the third—or was it the fourth?—round of lovemaking, they’d stripped the covers off the bed and made a nest in front of the fireplace.
Dmitri ran a hand down the length of her back, tracing the curve of her spine. “Again,” he murmured, the timbre of his voice low and seductive.
Lying facedown on the covers, Gwen twisted her head and cracked her eyes open. As much as she loved the feel of him inside her, she needed to refuel her body. “Food first. Then again.”
“A break? So soon? But I’m the one doing all of the work.” His hand slipped farther down her back until his calloused palm cupped her ass.
“All?”
Her eyes narrowed as she reached back and swatted his arm. “Keep it up, and I’ll demand a nap, too.”
“Oh, no,
zaika moya
. There’ll be no sleep for you tonight. I’ve got plans.”
The promise in his voice made her body hum. “What kind of plans?” She wasn’t sure if anything could top what he’d done with the shower curtain rod, but she was willing to give it a try.
Dmitri shook his head, his lips curving up in a sensual smile. “It’s a surprise.”
The look on his face made her entire body burn. But even though she craved his touch, her stomach growled with a different kind of hunger. “Sounds promising, but I hope those plans include food. And we need more wood for the fire.”
The flames had died out, leaving smoldering embers in the hearth. Good thing Dmitri had brought in more firewood from the tiny shed behind the cabin. Outside, temperatures still hovered around freezing, but inside it was toasty warm.
Who knew what would happen once the weather improved and they resumed their quest to stop Patrick. Would things between them go back to the way they were, or would their relationship continue down their current path? Honestly, she had no idea, so she chose to push the thought from her mind and live in the moment.
With a sigh, Dmitri stood. “Very well. I’ll build your fire while you make us something to eat.”
Even buck naked, he carried himself with an air of confidence few men mastered. He deftly loaded a few more logs into the fireplace, and then stoked the embers until the flames reignited. The light of the fire played across his skin and caught in the dusting of dark hair on his chest and arms. His muscles flexed and bunched with the movements and somehow managed to make her heart skip a beat.
Tearing her gaze away, Gwen got up and padded to the kitchen. She grabbed a pot out of the cupboard, poured in two cans of soup, added some water, rice, and spices, and set the heat to medium. It wasn’t much by ordinary standards, but today it would count as a feast.
“Looks good,” Dmitri said as he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. He smelled faintly of wood smoke and sex. Dipping his head, he nipped her earlobe, and her brain nearly blew a gasket. “How long before it’s ready?”
Before what’s ready? Oh yeah, that’s right, the soup.
“Mmm, twenty minutes, maybe thirty.”
“Good.” Reaching over, he took the spoon from her hand and set it down on the counter. He scooped her up in his big, strong arms before turning back toward the fire. “That leaves plenty of time to enjoy an appetizer.”
Chapter 16
T
he rest of the day whipped by in a blur. They ate the fish Dmitri had caught and Gwen cooked. Had sex. Brought in more wood for the fire. Had sex. Took a shower. Had sex in the shower. Sated and satisfied, they fell asleep that evening by the fire in a tangle of limbs.
The next morning, Dmitri ventured outside, leaving Gwen asleep beneath the covers. Dark gray clouds concealed the sun and cast a gloomy shadow over the landscape. It wasn’t snowing yet, but the air felt raw like a storm was about to cut loose. His breath fogged with each exhale, and the freezing cold had crept into his bones. And even though the fish weren’t biting, he planned on staying outside until he caught something to eat or until the weather grew too bitter to bear.
Truth be told, he needed some time alone to pull himself together. He hadn’t expected his encounter with Gwen to be so emotionally charged. He’d wanted her, yes, but in a physical sense only, at least that was what he kept telling himself. But what he’d experienced was something much different. Deeper. She’d awakened emotions he long considered dead, and their intensity scared the living shit out of him.
The notion of love crept into his mind, and the harder he tried to banish the thought, the more insistently it latched onto his heart. He kept circling back to the way she made him feel, his response to her touch, and how his heart swelled every single time she cast a smile in his direction.
Shit.
When love whispers, reason shuts up.
After half a century of guarding his heart, a honey-blond vixen had snuck under his radar and knocked him flat on his ass. Even worse, he didn’t know what to do about it. Denying his feelings was an exercise in futility, but he also knew they had no chance for a future. When their assignment was over, he’d go back to Orlando while Gwen returned to her post at the Mexican border over a thousand miles away.
Frustrated, he reeled in the line. Nothing had nibbled in over an hour, and his toes were frozen in his boots. He grabbed the tackle box and the empty bucket and headed back to the cabin. A steady stream of white smoke rose from the chimney, like a beacon welcoming him home. He tried—and failed—to ignore the fact it soothed his soul to know Gwen was inside. He stepped onto the porch and wiped his boots on the mat before opening the front door.
A wall of warm air greeted him when he walked inside. He found Gwen sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire, surrounded by stacks of papers and the artifact. She was wearing jeans and a dark green T-shirt that brought out the color in her eyes. A look of complete concentration marked her face while she chewed on the cap of a pen. She looked up and met his gaze, the smile on her lips so genuine it went through him like a bolt of electricity.
“I thought you already translated that thing,” he said as he closed and locked the door behind him. She’d worked like a fiend back at the hotel room in Virginia, deciphering the story that made Patrick believe he could pull off an insurrection.
“The picture we had didn’t show all of the text,” she said by way of explanation. Her gaze flicked to the bucket. “Catch anything?”
“Not this time. It’s about to start snowing. I’ll try again after it stops.”
“Sounds good. Could you put on dinner while you’re up? I’m starving.”
“I thought it was your turn to cook.”
“Yeah, but I’m on to something, and I don’t want to stop.” She batted her lashes at him. “Please? I promise to make it up to you.”
The mischief in her eyes intrigued him. “How?”
Her fingers skimmed along the neckline of her shirt, just above the swell of her cleavage. “Remember that thing I can do with my tongue?”
How could he forget? Dmitri nodded because his mind forgot how to form words.
Gwen raked her gaze over him, slowly, deliberately, and her mouth quirked in a sly grin. She licked her lips, probably because she knew how it affected him. “That’s nothing compared to what I’ll do to you this time.”
All of the blood in his brain flooded south. He shifted his weight from one leg to another to adjust the fit of his pants. “When?”
“Tonight.”
He glanced toward the kitchen, trying to think of a meal he could cook with the limited supplies. If it were just him, he’d go for quick and simple, but his Gwenya deserved something better. A recipe came to mind that he’d made a while back, and inspiration struck. They didn’t have all of the ingredients, but with a few substitutions, it should work. “I’ll have dinner ready in an hour.”
After starting the rice, he cored and peeled four apples, chopped them into bits, and set them into a bowl. Then he mixed in spices until it all tasted about right. When the rice was ready, he blended it all together, put in a pan, and set it in the oven to bake.
He’d just finished cleaning the mess he made when he heard Gwen mutter, “Aw, shit.”
Curious, he tossed the dishtowel on the counter and crossed to where she was working. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Biting her bottom lip, she turned the artifact over in her hands. “Either Patrick didn’t research Akkadian history, or he doesn’t realize there’s a second side to the artifact.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, the front tells the story of the king’s quest to achieve godhood.” A pair of lines creased the space between her eyes as she tapped the relic with her index finger. “The back chronicles what happened when the king tried to enter the god’s realm.”
“That bad?”
Gwen nodded, her scowl deepening as she read from the text she’d translated from the artifact. “The goddess Inanna, enraged by Shu-Durul’s intrusion, expelled the king from her realm and vowed to punish his kingdom. The skies darkened, and the ground dried until all of the crops ceased to grow. With his armies weakened and his people starving, barbarians descended from the mountains and laid waste to the land. The death of the king and the fall of the empire ushered in a dark age that lasted one hundred years.”
“Sounds biblical.” Dmitri moved a stack of papers so he could sit on the floor beside her. His thigh pressed against hers, and the contact made his body hum. The fire in front of them popped and crackled, and it would have been romantic if they hadn’t been talking about death and destruction. Even so, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips because he couldn’t be this close and not do it. “That’s a harsh punishment for one man’s overreach.”
“What do you expect from a deity?” she asked. “They’re not exactly known for their gentle demeanors.”
She had a point there. From his experience, omnipotent beings had shitty tempers. A couple years ago, one of his fellow reapers had defied Fate to save his woman and nearly damned his soul in the process.
Imagine what she’d do to someone stupid enough to attempt a mutiny.
Still, the tale sounded too tall to be true. In ancient times, misfortunes and disasters were often blamed on deities because people simply didn’t know any better. “Has it ever occurred to you that this artifact might be nothing more than an ancient fairy tale?” If so, they were doing all this for nothing, and wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?
“Of course, but I think it’s rooted in historical fact.” She flipped through the stacks of papers on the floor until she found what she must have been searching for. “Listen to this.” Her eyes narrowed as she read from the page. “The Empire of Akkad collapsed in 2154 BC when the Gutian hordes invaded from the Zagros Mountains. Next to nothing is known about the Gutians’ origins since no artifacts have been discovered from their civilization prior to that time period. Aside from the names of their kings, nothing is known of their language either. Most accounts describe their reign over the Akkadian people as barbaric and exceptionally brutal. Being nomadic, they had no concern for agriculture, written records, or public safety, and as a result, crops failed, famine spread across the land, and the empire fell into a period of decline. After nearly a century, the Gutians were finally forced from power.” She looked up. “Some of the texts credit a Sumerian king for driving them out, but others say it was Marduk, a Babylonian god.”
Dmitri paused to let the information to sink in. “Okay, so an empire fell four thousand years ago because their ruler was a complete idiot. Does that mean Ziegler’s followers will get the same treatment when he tries to invade Fate’s realm?” If so, he’d give anything to be there when it happened.
“Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I think there’s something much more serious to worry about.”
“Like what?”
She glared at him as if the answer were obvious. “Think about it. The Gutians seemingly came out of nowhere, spoke an unknown language, and overwhelmed an entire empire. Where the hell did they come from?” She tapped the surface of the artifact. “What if the Gutians were creatures who came into this realm when Shu-Durul breached the void between dimensions?”
“I suppose it’s possible,” he said, curious to see where she was going with all this.
“Damn right it’s possible.” A troubled look settled over her again as she slapped the papers down on top of the stack. “And that means it can happen again if Patrick opens the rift.”
“Fuck.” He hadn’t considered that angle. Dmitri rubbed at the tension growing along the back of his neck. “Maybe we should just destroy it.”
Gwen shook her head. “There’s no way of knowing what will happen if we try. For all we know, damaging it could trigger something a whole lot worse.”
A sense of foreboding settled in Dmitri’s gut. Stupid reapers didn’t last long, and they worked in a business that fostered a healthy sense of paranoia. Most were good at thinking outside the box and seeing angles that others missed. If Gwen was spooked, she probably had a good reason, but he didn’t want to fuel her fears. “You worry too much,
zaika
,” he said, forcing his tone to remain light. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Gwen lifted her chin and met his gaze, her face tight with genuine concern. “What if it opens a rift we can’t close? For all we know, we could let something through that makes the Gutians look like Girl Scouts.”

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