Spirit Bound (Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart 2)

She started to turn her head but he held her firmly, preventing her from moving while he dried her hair thoroughly. He realized he was vaguely angry. He wasn't used to acknowledging emotions and at first thought he was sharing her anger, but he had to admit, this time, the anger was all his.

"Is there still a doubt in your mind, because you don't sound sure?"

"Of course I have doubts. You could have been killed tonight. A million things could have gone wrong, Judith. I won't take chances with your life."

He didn't try to prevent the edge to his voice. His belly was in tight knots and he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Since the moment he had realized she was there in Sea Haven and there was nothing he could do about it, he'd felt anger at his lack of ability to control the situation. He needed her safe and she wasn't. He obviously wasn't like his brother who could watch his wife dive under the sea and put herself into harm's way. He had spent an entire lifetime alone and now that he'd found Judith, he found he couldn't handle her in danger.

His hand bunched in her hair in his hand and yanked her head back, taking her mouth before she could protest. The moment his mouth settled on hers, the moment his tongue swept inside that soft, hot haven, his world righted itself. He'd been off-kilter, but even anger tasted a lot like passion when he was kissing Judith.

"I know you're cold, angel. And you're angry with me, but I need you. Right now. Right here." He murmured the words against her soft lips and kissed her words away. He didn't know if she protested or acquiesced, nothing mattered but the feel and taste of her, the knowledge that she was alive and kissing him back.

He slipped one arm around her bare, wet back and lifted her, wincing a little when his arm protested. He didn't care that blood was still leaking from the wound and running down his arm, or that she was soaking wet. He needed her.

She turned in his arms, leaning over the back of the bathtub to reach him, feet still in the water, sliding her arms around his neck as she pressed her wet body against his. "I'm really angry with you," she whispered into his mouth, even as her lips moved over his, kissing him over and over.

He felt that edge of anger in her kiss, the sizzling passion rising with a needy demand. "That's okay, Judith," he whispered into the heat of her mouth. "Be angry with me later."

His mouth blazed a trail over her face, down her chin to her throat. He lifted her right out of the bathtub, uncaring of the water dripping onto the floor.

Judith's breath caught in her throat. "I'm no little pixie like Lexi or Airiana, Thomas. I'm tall, so I'm not a lightweight. You'll hurt yourself."

He kissed his way around to her neck, his teeth nipping, and his tongue dancing over her all that soft, enticing skin. "I want to eat you up, Judith."

"Your arm," she hissed, pulling back.

"Fuck my arm. Who gives a damn about my arm? Right now, I need one thing." He caught her leg and wrapped it around him. "I need to be inside you right now. Put your legs around my waist."

His voice had gone hoarse, the urgency in him catching him unawares. He didn't need. Not like this. Not as if his very life depended on it, yet he couldn't stop his hands from gripping her thighs, fingers digging deep as he raised her up. She hooked her ankles around his back. If he felt his arm protesting, it seriously didn't register. The only thing that mattered was this woman, being inside her body, joining them, skin to skin, heart to heart. He needed her melting into him, surrounding him with her scorching heat.

Whatever soul he had left was hers. His heart pounded in his ears. Blood roared, the thunder loud in his mind. Save me, angel. Give yourself to me.

He couldn't stand that he'd put her in danger, that he'd been the one she followed into hell, opening the way for a man like Ivanov to get to her. And there would be another and another after that. What right did he have to bring her into his world of shadows and death?

I'm so in love with you, Thomas. It doesn't matter. None of that matters. Just this. Just us. Love me. Show me you love me.

Judith placed both hands on his shoulders, rising over him, pressing her center down until the head of his heavy erection was tasting the hot slick honey pouring from her body in welcome.

Her soft voice filled his mind, slipping inside every shadow, erasing every doubt, driving him beyond sanity. He didn't wait. Didn't give her any time for adjustment. Lifting her in strong arms and slamming her over him, driving upward as he drove her down to seat her fully on him. Her body was tight and hot, all those silken folds strangling him with exquisite pleasure, giving way for his fierce invasion.

She cried out and threw her head back, twining her fingers together behind his neck for support. Her breasts swayed, her stomach muscles bunching and rippling as she began a furious ride under the demand of his hands. Heat blazed through him, seared him, righted him. The terrible fear tearing at him began to ease with every jackhammer surge. He drove into her hard and fast, needing the flames rushing through his bloodstream. Needing the fire engulfing his body, coming up from his toes to consume him--both of them--to weld them together, binding heart and soul even as flesh melted together.

Her breathless, mewling cries were sweet music he was coming to love. The sobbing, gasping pleas as she chanted his name shook him to his very core. He tightened his hold on her, uncaring of the passage of time, just losing himself in the scorching heat of her body, in the silk of her tight sheath and the pleasure rippling through him.

He couldn't believe she was his. Angry or not, she welcomed him, rode him hot and hard, a wild, crazy ride without inhibition, giving herself completely into his care. Her gasping cries grew more frantic and her nails dug into his neck. The tiny pinpoints of pain only made him hotter, more possessed in his frenzied need.

"Mine," he stated. "Say it to me. Now. Right now, Judith. Who do you belong to?"

Her eyes opened and she looked directly into his eyes. For a moment his heart stopped as he felt himself falling. Drowning.

"Stefan Prakenskii. I belong to him and I always will." Her words came out in soft little gasps of conviction because he hadn't stopped driving into her like a jacked up piston. "And he belongs to me." She threw back her head again, her breasts jutting up, jiggling madly, an erotic image he would hold in his mind for all time.

"Who do you love?"

"You, you bonehead." Her muscles clamped down around him possessively, hot and tight and oh so perfect. "Always you."

The last vestiges of fear and anger melted away with her declaration. His fingers gripped her buttocks tighter and he lifted her, pulled her down while lighting streaked through his body and a song sang in his blood. Everything he'd ever been, ever done, had brought him to this place, to this woman. She was everything he'd ever been looking for. There was no one before her and there would be no one after her.

He didn't bother denying what he felt was love. It ran deep and strong and burned like fire. The emotion was so intense it was primal, shaking him to the very core of his existence. He wanted to wake up every morning to her. Go to sleep with his body wrapped tightly around hers. He wanted her to have his child--his children. He knew he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her by his side and when he died, he wanted to die in her arms.

Sensuous fire burned him from the inside out, taking him higher than he'd ever gone, pushing her limits until she could only cling to him, gasping, pleading, her soft cries growing more frantic. His body exploded like a fiery volcano, a rocket bursting through him, a total assault on his senses.

Her body clamped down on his, her muscles wrapped tight around his cock, strangling and fiery hot, dragging every last drop of his essence from his body while lightning streaked through his veins and rushed through his blood. This was what love felt like. All encompassing. A frenzied, insatiable need that left one completely wrung out, yet strangely at peace.

Judith dropped her head on his shoulder as her body continued to ripple with aftershocks, her breath coming in sobbing gasps, her eyes closed as if savoring him. He he

ld her tight, wanting the closeness, the skin to skin contact while he stayed buried deep inside her, feeling absolute tenderness, an emotion he'd been unfamiliar with and now overwhelmed him.

"I could stay like this forever, buried deep inside you. You're a safe haven, Judith, a place I can be real," he whispered, trailing kissed down the side of her face to her neck.

"You are real," she answered, her mouth against his shoulder. "At least I think you are. You're really hurt, Thomas. You shouldn't be holding me like this."

"This is exactly what I should be doing. Russians are tough, angel." He kissed the top of her head as he allowed himself to slip out of her. And he did allow it. He might not want to, but he'd been rough with her and she needed the soothing heat of her bath water.

He lowered her back into the bathtub. "Do you need me to add hot water?"

Judith tilted her head back, looking up at him with her exotic eyes, more mysterious than ever with her sleek, gleaming hair, and sensual bone structure. "I need to know what's wrong, Thomas. If we're going to do this . . ."

He bunched her hair in his fist. "There is no if. We've both made that commitment, Judith, so don't try to put your foot out the door because you didn't like something I did. That will happen a lot before I figure out this relationship stuff."

Her dimple appeared, as if she was trying to suppress a smile. She couldn't suppress the sudden surge of happiness spreading through the room. "Relationship stuff?" she repeated. "I can see I'm going to have a tremendous amount of romantic apologies. Take your shower, Thomas, and we'll get your arm fixed. Suffice it to say, if you ever try drugging me again, I'll hit you over the head with a frying pan."

"You probably would."

"Don't doubt it for a minute."

Stefan found himself laughing. "You're so damn beautiful."

"Get in the shower, Thomas," Judith said in her firmest you'd-better-do-what-I-say voice.

He found he liked it when she bossed him around. There was something very sexy when a woman got all proprietary and dangerous with her man--and he liked being her man. He grinned at her and stepped under the rain shower head.

The hot water pushed exhaustion from his bones. He took his time, enjoying the pleasure of watching her take a bath while he showered. He'd been right about that bathtub, he could stand next to it and it would be just the right height for her to lean her head back against the high side, open her very sexy mouth and lavish attention on his suddenly aching cock. His hand dropped down, loosely circling his rapidly hardening flesh. The spray of water on the sensitive flesh only added to erotic fantasy.

"Stop it," she said, without turning her head.

"I haven't done anything--yet."

"You're going to fix that shoulder of yours."

"After." His voice was unconsciously commanding.

She turned her head and looked at him, eyes slumberous, a siren's tempting look on her face as her gaze drifted over him. She crooked her finger at him. "Come here. I think you're insatiable."

The purr in her voice hardened his cock even more. He shut off the water and walked toward her, holding her gaze with his. Judith's eyes smoldered with heat. She tilted her head back as she reached for him, her hands lovingly cupping his heavy sac, urging him closer. Stefan closed his eyes as her hot mouth closed over his throbbing, jerking flesh. She turned him into a steel spike immediately. All that hot silk closing around him as tight as any fist, but it was the look in her eyes that took his breath and added to the scorching heat coursing through his body.

He groaned with sheer pleasure as she sucked hard, drawing him deeper, her tongue working his shaft. Her mouth was nearly as much heaven as her body. She took her time, teasing, lavishing attention on him, tongue and fist, teasing the head of his cock and lapping at the shaft before she got serious, her mouth working him tightly.

He closed his eyes, ecstasy washing over him, the heat sliding up from his toes to his groin, rushing from his head to the his heavy erection. He couldn't stop himself from tracing her beloved face with gentle fingers while he watched himself disappear into the hot depths of her mouth. Her eyes, the high cheekbones, her soft inviting skin. His hand slid down her jaw, caressed her throat as he stepped a little closer, forcing her back so that he had a better angle to slip deeper.

He remained as passive as possible for as long as he was able before the sensations began to overcome his control. Stefan knew that a good part of his enjoyment was Judith's enjoyment, the way she offered herself to him. He took a little more control as the flames began burning hot in his veins, licking over his skin. He sank his cock an inch deeper and held her there for just a moment, allowing her to get used to the sensation before he pulled back.

She stroked the underside of the broad, sensitive head with her tongue, as if memorizing every line, rapt concentration on her face. His hands gripped her hair and held her still as he took over completely, sinking deeper than he'd ever gone and holding himself still.

"Swallow, angel." He bit out the instruction between his teeth.

The gripping tightness forced a groan from his throat. He eased back and found her tongue dragging deliberately against his pulsing vein. He began to set a rhythm, trying to find a balance she could keep up with, that wonderful swallowing sensation and her need for air. Bliss. Total bliss, her mouth and throat and tongue. He felt the boiling rise and gripped her hair tighter, the coiling tension in his body.

"Look at me. Keep looking at me." He could barely get the words out as the explosion started somewhere around his toes and burned through his thighs, jetting hard and fast while his blood thundered in his ears and his heart pounded with love.

Her eyes met his unflinchingly as she took him in, mouth working hungrily, and that love in her eyes as steady as a rock. For him. She'd seen the worst and best in him and she stuck with him, still gave him her love and loyalty. The last vestige of his anger slid away, as he realized she accepted his inability to understand relationships even more than he did. Judith would stand with him. The terrible roiling in his gut subsided and he found himself smiling down at the woman he loved, wrapped in the blanket of her natural serenity.

WALKING down the main street of Sea Haven in full view of the townspeople, while holding hands with Judith, felt strange and yet exhilarating. Across the street, the ocean acted up, waves pounding at the cliffs and bluffs. White spray rose high into the air, crashing over rocks, the sound a loud boom the wind caught and carried inland. Fingers of fog streamed toward the buildings and streets, brought in by the breeze coming in off the ocean.

"Most people here are bothered more by the wind than by the fog," Judith said, "but I love the wind and the storms here. I always feel like no one can quite tame this place."

Stefan liked that idea. He wasn't the type of man to stroll down the street, boldly holding a woman's hand. His gaze moved restlessly over rooftops and delved into alleyways, although a part of him enjoyed every moment of the new experience. He seemed to be having all his firsts with Judith. He was a man used to the roles he played and he was comfortable in society when he was undercover. If he meant to become Thomas Vincent and settle in Sea Haven, he would have to grow completely comfortable in the art world with Judith. She traveled and went to galleries and conventions. She taught classes. Where Judith went, Stefan would be going, but he would always have the wildness of this place to make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

A trickle of unease slipped into his mind. He took a quick look around. The fog was heavy and massing fast, veiling the buildings in a gray mist.

Judith turned her face up to the gathering mist and smiled. "I love our sea here. It's so wild, the mood changing every hour. It was so beautiful this morning at the farm and yet we drive a couple of miles and fog is pouring into town so fast and thick you can barely see your hand in front of your face."

Stefan knew his "honeymoon" with Judith was about to be over. He could feel the building tension in him as surely as he could recognize the building st

orm of an impending tornado. He always knew when trouble was close, and as they approached the art gallery, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and every cell in his body went on alert. Without conscious thought, he dropped Judith's hand, and crossed behind her, to put his body between hers and the buildings, rather than the street. Instincts were everything and he didn't question himself, he simply reacted.

"Let me go in first," he ordered as they neared the small lane between the buildings where Old Bill made his home. "Stay behind me until I clear the gallery."

Judith frowned at his grim face and taut, very domineering tone, but she didn't argue with him. As they passed Bill, she paused. The veteran was lying under his blanket, covering his head with one hand, shivering a little in the thick fog.

"Bill, do you need another blanket? What happened to your sleeping bag?"

The world was gray and somber, the sea crashing angrily against the bluff where Ivanov's car had gone over to the rocks below. Stefan took a long look around while Judith talked to the homeless man, aware, even as he studied rooftops and towers, that Bill made an attempt to sit up, coughed and lay back down.

"Do you need a doctor?" Judith asked.

Bill shook his head and waved her away, clearly as independent as ever.

Judith frowned at him. "If you aren't better tomorrow, I'm bringing Lexi, Bill, and you know what that means. She'll be making some horrible-tasting potion for you to drink and you'll do it because no one can resist her, not even you."

Bill made a muffled sound that could have been a snort of laughter or agreement. Stefan urged Judith forward toward the gallery by taking her upper arm and tugging with commanding strength. She shot him a scowl, her concern for Bill overriding her good sense.

His radar screamed at him, his muscles coiling, ready to spring into action. The weight of his gun was reassuring. He had a knife strapped to his calf, one in his boot, another up his sleeve and a small throwing knife taped between his shoulder blades where he could reach and throw in less than a second should there be need. With all that, he didn't like Judith out in the open.

Now, Judith. Something's wrong. I can feel it. He hissed the warning into her mind.