He threw his head back at the pleasure/pain that instantly roared through his body with the force of a freight train. Every cell in his body, every nerve ending focused completely on his woman. For such a little thing, she wreaked havoc with his mind, body and soul. So easily.
Her hands stroked up his chest. She shifted in his lap, turning more fully toward him, drinking his blood, making her own demands. Her own claims. He hadn’t ordered her to do more than take his blood for an exchange, but she was definitely going beyond that.
One hand teased at his flat nipples, sending a searing flame through his bloodstream, igniting some explosive chemistry between them. Her other hand slid down his belly to fumble at the waistband of his trousers. He obliged her, waving clothes away from both of them. His breath caught in his throat. Her body was beautiful. She might be petite, but she was a woman and her body proclaimed her as such.
She had taken enough for a true blood exchange. Enough.
It will never be enough.
Obey me in this. He pushed more command into his voice, but he didn’t physically stop her. He wanted to see what she would do.
She pulled back, licked at the ruby drops running from the twin holes in his chest her teeth had made and then she began pressing little kisses down his chest to his belly button. One hand pushed at him to insist he lie back. He didn’t. He leaned for her, but he wasn’t putting himself in a vulnerable position. He might want her with every breath he drew, but he didn’t trust her.
She stretched out, lapping at his stomach and then his groin, licking the broad, flared head of his cock until he thought he might lose his mind. Still, he let her. How could he possibly stop her when every lash of her tongue felt like a whip of lightning wrapping around his desperate, aching cock?
He ran his hand down her back to her sore buttocks. His handprint didn’t show on her skin, but the marks of his punishment did. He rubbed, hoping to take away the sting, but the heavy brush of his palm, the kneading of his fingers, seemed to inflame her more. Her mouth engulfed him.
He threw back his head and let the feeling take him. Euphoria. Nirvana. Her mouth was a tight, hot, wet fist, attempting to suck him dry. He gathered the thick swath of hair away from her face, so he could watch her devour him. Her lips were stretched wide and it was the sexiest sight he’d ever seen—and he’d watched many such performances, many supposedly more erotic, but not to him. He could get off just looking at the sight of her with her lips stretched so wide and his cock in her mouth. Streaks of fire raced through his bloodstream. He wanted to do some exploring of his own.
I want you to stand over me.
I’m busy. You taste so good. I wondered if your cock would taste as good as your blood and it does. It’s amazing.
He liked that, but she still didn’t understand that when he told her to do something, she had to do it. Not that he could think straight with her mouth sucking the life out of him. One hand played with his balls, stroking the heavy sac, cupping and gently squeezing while her tongue danced and lashed, and then her mouth tightened and she tried to swallow him down.
He felt his seed, hot and wild, raging, scorching, as his balls drew up, tightened almost to the point of pain. His cock swelled. Thickened. Jerked once in warning. Then he was feeding her everything he had. So much. Blasting into her mouth, down her throat. Filling her. All the while he watched her through hooded eyes, his fist in her hair, holding her over him while she swallowed his very essence.
He lifted her head off his cock, the feel of her lips sliding over the sensitive organ nearly setting him off again. It was enough to set his cock on fire. He held her head right there. Waiting. She took the hint and licked up and down his shaft, teasing at the base with the tip of her tongue and then sliding it around the crown. He thought he might lose his mind. She took every last remaining drop from him before turning her head to look at him.
“Stand up. Put your hands on my shoulders.” He made it a firm command because she didn’t seem to listen very well.
The mage got to her feet in one very graceful move worthy of any of the dancers pleasing the husbands and husbands’ friends he’d watched in past centuries. He could imagine her with bells around her ankles and waist and hanging on a chain between her breasts. She would have been a husband’s most prized possession. He knew she was already his.
Very slowly, almost as if she was a little afraid, she rested her hands on his shoulders. He slid his hands to the inside of her thighs and urged her closer until she was standing over him, straddling him, her legs wide. He felt her shiver and knew it wasn’t from the cold, crisp air. She had bathed in the river and he smelled the snowpack on her. The scent was fresh and mingled with her natural fragrance of peaches and cream, producing a potent aphrodisiac for him.
Very gently he slid his hand up her left leg. Shaping her calf. Caressing behind her knees with the pads of his fingers. His tongue stroked little caresses over her right leg following his hand movements on the left. No matter how hard her fingers dug into his shoulders, and at one point she grabbed a fistful of hair and nearly shook his head off, he kept his movements slow.
He blew warm air between her legs while she squirmed and made delicious little sounds that threatened to drive him mad. His palm caressed her left thigh and he did the same with his tongue on her right. Feeling her skin. Tasting her. She was more than exquisite. He didn’t deviate or go faster. He wasn’t about to shortchange her—or either of them. He wanted this slow, burning exploration as much as she did. Maybe more.
In the centuries gone past, he’d had time to study every aspect of what a man and woman could do together to pleasure each other. Like his brethren, he wanted to be the best possible lover for his lifemate. He’d studied the erotic arts with the same diligence to detail that he’d studied spells, languages and new technology.
Her fingers found the tattoos flowing over his shoulders and down his back. The tattoos had been made the old way, scarring the skin, but making his vows a part of his body, so that he would never forget. Never dishonor his lifemate or himself. She traced the letters, written in his ancient language to her. To his woman.
He kissed his way up her inner left thigh and then kissed his way down on the right. Her breath hissed out. Her skin was cool to the touch but warming, growing hot under his mouth and fingers.
When he finally reached her hot little spot, she was nearly crying, trying desperately to push her body onto his mouth, seeking relief. He worked her clit gently at first, lapping and flicking with his tongue. She tasted like a combination of peaches and cream, just like she smelled. He used a flattened tongue to stroke and slap, bringing all the nerve endings to life.
Only when she was pleading did he add one finger, sliding it back and forth, collecting the liquid there and then pushing deep. She was tight. Tighter than he had thought possible. Her breath caught audibly when he invaded but she pushed back, impaling herself, seeking more.
“I’m so close. You have to keep going. Don’t stop.”
He took his finger and mouth away, running his face up the inside of her thigh, using the bristles on his jaw to stimulate her further. All the while colors burst behind his eyes, nearly blinding him. It was disorienting, and he wanted to tell her to stop talking. At the same time, he welcomed the disturbing sensations pouring over him. The colors confirmed she was his lifemate. Traitor or no, she was his.
“What are you doing?” she wailed.
“Starting over.” He kept his voice complacent. She would eventually learn what he was all about. She was a little spitfire, but he was in charge whether she liked it or not.
He repeated everything he’d done before, one slow step at a time. His hands were gentle, but his tongue was wicked, drawing circles, lapping at her. He suckled, gently and then strongly. He varied what he did and then added his fingers again. This time he flicked and tapped her clit, until he drove her so close to the edge she was pleading with him. Bargaining. He pushed a finger into her, once more stret
ching her.
“That burns,” she hissed. “But in a good way. Please don’t stop.”
He added a second finger to help prepare her for him, all the while using his tongue to keep the pleasure to the forefront. Stretching her to accommodate his size was necessary, but if he could keep from hurting her, he would.
He felt the change in her body. The coiling tension. She was so close. He lifted his head, pulling back from her.
“What are you doing? Don’t stop. You can’t stop.”
He used his fingers to flick her clit and rub across her entrance and then lick his fingers. She tasted good, so good her taste was addictive.
“I need more. I need you in me.” Her ragged breathing made her demand more of a plea. She looked up at him a little desperately.
“Now you’re willing to talk to me.” Colors were everywhere. Blinding him all over again. They had come to him slowly at first when she’d been so stubborn, but now, with her little cries and frantic entreaties, he could see every shade of color. He rubbed over her bottom, stroked caresses on her inner thigh. She squirmed in response.
“If you’re really my lifemate, you won’t just leave me wanting you like this.” There was a hitch in her breathing now.
He pressed his finger deep. Curled it into her and stroked while his thumb manipulated her hard little clit. “What’s your name?”
She swallowed but didn’t pull away. She began riding his fingers, her hands once more on his shoulders. “Julija, Julija Brennan.”
“A mage.” He stretched her a little more, pressing his second finger deep again, just to make sure. He was not going to hurt her.
She threw her head back, closing her eyes, pleasure spilling over her beautiful features. She ground down, working his fingers as if they were a cock. He removed them. The minute she opened her eyes he licked at his fingers and then stuck them in his mouth.
“You do taste good, lifemate. I’m Isai.”
“Isai!” She wailed his name.
“Get on your hands and knees.” He waved his hand to provide a thick rug for her. He didn’t want to damage her knees when he was supposed to give her pleasure.
Julija didn’t hesitate. She dropped obediently to the rug. Isai immediately knelt behind her. He massaged her bottom, although he had the urge to spank her again, this time with much more care and not painfully. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He caught his cock at the base and slid the head across her slick entrance. The sensations on the sensitive head sent shudders of pleasure through him.
“Hurry.” She turned her head to look at him. “Please.”
He wanted to prolong the anticipation, drive her higher up to ensure she was ready for him. He didn’t want her hurt, but his size was going to stretch her limits, and he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to be in her as much as she wanted him there.
He invaded slowly, pushing steadily through the scorching-hot petals that gripped him with a thousand fingers. He threw his head back, staring up at the stars, feeling as if, for the first time in his life, everything that had ever come before was worth it. This indescribable feeling Julija’s body was giving him was worth every sacrifice he had made.
She chanted softly, over and over, his name, as if by saying it, she could force her body to accommodate his more easily. Her body opened for his reluctantly, but he had to push through that scorching-hot channel every inch of the way. Her breathing turned ragged and he paused instantly.
“No!” She wailed the word. “Don’t stop. You can’t stop.”
He had no intentions of stopping. That wasn’t going to happen. He was just being careful with her. His woman was going to experience nothing but pleasure. He caught her hips to still her as she pushed back, trying to take all of him.
“We have to be careful, kislány hän ku meke sarnaakmet. We don’t want you to get sore.” It was extremely difficult to hold back. He had to breathe deeply.
“Sometimes sore is delicious.”
Even her ragged panting got to him. He began to move again, pushing steadily inch by inch until he was fully encased in her. Surrounded by her. He could feel her heart beat right through his cock. He took a breath and inhaled her along with the night. He took in the beauty of her, on her hands and knees, head down as she pushed back into him, her breath coming in sobbing gasps. She was spectacular. Stunning. Having a lifemate was worth every single second of those terrible long, endless centuries.
He began to move. Slowly at first, building the burn between them. Moving with deep emotion rather than the lust that stood at the edges of his mind, threatening to overtake him. He felt that dark desire rising in her and his own needs and hunger rose in direct correlation to hers.
He wanted to savor every moment inside her, surrounded by her tight, scorching-hot channel, but she was making unbelievably erotic sounds. Her body kept clamping down on his, increasing the friction that threatened to wipe every sane thought from his head.
Isai held out for a long, beautiful ride beneath the stars, moving in and out of her, increasing his speed until both were right on the verge and then backing off. Again and again until both of them were frantic. He stroked her sides and back, savoring the feeling of her soft skin and female shape, even as he surged forward, knowing the sensations were going to take him. Her body clamped down on his like a vicious vise, strangling his cock, milking his shaft, drawing every last drop so that his seed blasted out of him, coating her walls, producing what seemed like one long, continuous orgasm in her.
Julija collapsed forward on her elbows and then all the way to her chest. Isai held her hips so he could stay inside her, feeling every last sensation, every ripple and quake of her body around his. Her body moved around his, contracting, and then almost strangling his cock. Her channel bit down viciously, sending shocking waves of pleasure/pain swamping his body and taking over his mind. He let himself savor every lasting moment until the euphoria had faded, leaving him with the reality of a wild lifemate.
Very slowly he lowered her hips to the rug and allowed his body to pull out of hers. As he did so, he cleansed both of them. She immediately rolled over to look at him. He couldn’t help but admire her feminine form.
“I am grateful you belong to me, Julija.” He gave her a compliment, feeling her sudden wariness where before, like him, she’d been riding high on the feelings created by their bodies.
“Women aren’t owned.” She glared at him, one hand sweeping through her hair in an exasperated show of pure defiance. She sprang to her feet as if she might attempt to flee.
“I didn’t say I owned you. I said you belonged to me.” He stated it quietly but enunciated each word. “There is a difference.” He gestured for her to sit back down.
“If there is, it eludes me completely,” she said. She sank down onto the rug he’d provided and pulled her sleeping bag around her like a blanket—or a shield.
Isai scowled at her. “Are you cold?”
“Yes. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m naked and the temperature has dropped significantly.” There was sarcasm in her voice.
“It isn’t necessary to use that tone with me when I’m asking after your comfort. I have not had to look after a human in hundreds of years. In truth, I’ve rarely talked to one. Fortunately, I adapt very easily, and I’ll be paying close attention to your care.”
Her scowl matched his. “I don’t need anyone looking after me. Not now. Not ever. You might be the greatest thing in the entire universe when it comes to sex, but it ends there. Right there. You want sex, I’m your girl. Anything else, don’t even think about it.”
He studied her furious little face. She truly was beautiful. Silly, perhaps, but beautiful. He liked her fury. He liked her passion. But she didn’t make any sense.
“You clearly know about Carpathians, Julija. You know what a lifemate is. You knew you were mine, that was why you didn’t speak. I must see to your comfort and care. It is my duty and would be impossible not to carry it out.” He waved his hand and she was fully
clothed.
Her outfit was lined with fleece and the material was extremely soft. Breathable. High quality. She couldn’t help but appreciate that he gave her the best. Still, what mattered to him was the reason he’d come after her. She wasn’t losing sight of that for a minute.
“Where is the book you took from the prince?”
She narrowed her gaze, glaring at him. “I took? I didn’t take the stupid book. I was on my way to warn the prince that the book was being targeted. I don’t want anything at all to do with that horrid book. I was doing the right thing and now I’m in this really big mess. It doesn’t pay to do the right thing, let me tell you that right now.”
“Really big mess?” he echoed. What did she know that he didn’t?
“You. You’re the really big mess. I took a huge risk coming here after that idiot Carpathian who stole the book. I thought he was protecting it, but instead of returning it to the prince, he took off with it.”
Isai sat back. She was staring at him and her eyes kept dropping to his lap.
“Do you think you could put some clothes on?” She had a wicked bite in her voice.
“I could if you asked nicer than that.”
She rolled her eyes. He could see their life together wasn’t going to go smoothly.
“Would you please put on some clothes? It’s distracting when I’m trying to talk to you about this and it’s a serious matter.”
He supposed that was as good as it was going to get. She still had the tone. Worse, sarcasm was now a major part of it, but she at least used her manners. It meant she had some. He waved a hand to clothe himself. He could regulate his body temperature, so he hadn’t even realized he wasn’t dressed.
“Tell me what happened.” She could in no way fault his tone. He kept his voice pleasant and calm. Not in the least accusing.
Dark Illusion ('Dark' Carpathian Book 33) Page 4
