Dark Predator d-22

by Christine Feehan

  He drew her close, his breath settling over her, into her. His heart picked up the frantic rhythm of hers and automatically took charge, matching her pulse beat for beat. He watched her lashes drift down to veil the desire in her dark eyes. Her lips parted. He took her breath into his lungs. She was so warm and soft, heating him from the inside out.

  He let his mouth settle leisurely over hers. A part of him was desperate for her, so hungry he could barely think, but he wanted to take his time, to feel her every heartbeat, to taste her every breath, to know the shape of her mouth, the velvet depths, what made her breath catch and what made her body crave his. His kissed her lightly, a slow exploration, absorbing every separate sensation until need overcame him and he simply lost himself in her fire.

  He kissed her over and over, stealing the breath from her lungs, breathing for her, his tongue taking possession of that inviting, scalding velvet paradise. His thumbs traced her nipples, as he took her mouth over and over. She melted into him, all that fire, scorching him, searing his very heart.

  What happened when fire met ice? He feared he would cease to exist, yet there was no other path for him now. His body was in flames. His hunger beat at him like a thunderous drum. The pounding need filled his groin and ate at his soul. Marguarita. His. He had to take her now. Had to make her his. Had to fill his veins, his body with . . . her.

  His mouth drifted over the corner of hers. He kissed his way down the curve of her face to the small indentation at her chin. He swept back her cloud of hair from her neck with one hand, his mind firmly settled in hers. He allowed himself to experience all that she was feeling and she was completely aware of his every need—of every urgent demand of his body. His growing hunger. Still, she didn’t pull away from him, but he could feel her holding herself very still.

  “Do not fear this, Marguarita. There is great courage in you.” He whispered the words against her collarbone as he kissed his way along her smaller frame. He turned her in his arms, his mouth continuing along the swell of her breast.

  It’s hard to be afraid when you make me feel so alive, she confided. But it is a little frightening after the last time.

  He would make certain a blood exchange would be erotic, not painful. She had been born with a barrier, a product of evolution, so many generations of her family having served the De La Cruz family. That barrier in her mind had been reinforced, so controlling her was difficult at best. And he didn’t want control. He wanted her to be willing.

  I am willing, she whispered in his mind. I’m just a little nervous, but I’ve never been with a man, so all of this is new to me.

  He knew that, he was locked in her mind with her. He knew her every insecurity, and right now, she was holding herself together for him. Because he needed, and she provided. It was the Carpathian way, but she was human and yet instinctively, she knew what he needed.

  He pressed his forehead against the soft temptation of her breasts. He had walked the earth for well over a thousand years, had a vast wealth of knowledge, yet knew nothing of humans—or of women. And this woman was everything—would be his everything from this moment forward.

  She didn’t see him the way the rest of the world did. She didn’t even see him the way he saw himself.

  I see what and who you are. I see your heart and soul.

  She terrified him. Her courage matched that of every warrior he knew. He was no normal man. The hard edges inside of him, the driving need to hunt and kill should have sent her gentle nature running, screaming from him. Those dark shadows, the one tainting him from birth, the terrible legacy handed down from his father scarred his very soul. The light in her shining so bright should have diminished, should have shunned him and yet she faced him, faced her own fears—to save him. To offer him life. She knew what she was doing. She knew he planned to allow the sun to take him—but she stood in front of him, deliberately seducing him with her soft, giving body and her amazing courage.

  “It would take a miracle to save me, Marguarita.”

  She was a miracle to him. He was long gone from this world. He’d never belonged, and now modern society had passed a man such as him up centuries ago. Miracle or not, courage or not, how could she possibly live with such a throwback to ancient times? His world was kill or be killed. Survival of the fittest. Women weren’t a part of such things, and if they were, they were used and forgotten quickly, or held captive, close where a warrior could always protect her.

  “Do you see who I really am, or who you want me to be?” Because, God help them both, he would rule her. He would hold her too close. He would destroy both of them. He would damn them both to hell, but it didn’t seem to matter. He couldn’t break free from her, not even to save his honor. He burned like fire. He needed. Desire ruled him. Craving. Aching. Pure need. Pure hunger. He was predator, and she was prey. He was locked on, focused his entire attention on her. She would forever bear the cross of his shame, his inability to resist taking what he now had to have.

  I want to be yours, Zacarias. I need you to stay with me. Please stay. Please choose me. Whatever this is—it isn’t shameful. I’m giving myself to you freely.

  He heard his own groan. There would be no escape for her. How could he refuse her plea? Her gift? He couldn’t resist her soft breasts, her dusky nipples teasing his lips. He closed his mouth over temptation and suckled. He wanted this to be real. More than anything, he wanted what she was offering to be real. By all that was holy, let him have a miracle.

  Her body arched into him. Her arms crept around his head, cradling him to her.

  I see you. All of you.

  He couldn’t give up the amazing sensations streaking through both of them. The characteristics she saw in him, he wasn’t certain they were really there, but he wasn’t going to stop what he was doing to use his voice to tell her that. He tugged on her nipple with his teeth, heard her gasp, but fire streaked through her—through him, the blood rushing to both their centers, as if she had a pathway to both leading straight from her nipples.

  You know what I am. Yet you are not afraid?

  He tugged again, a little rougher, his hands kneading soft flesh, rolling that taut peak, using tongue and teeth mercilessly. He needed her to understand he was a rough, dangerous man, all hard edges and steel. It didn’t seem to matter how he touched her, she tightened her arms around his head, her breath ragged, her arousal permeating the air between them.

  I’m giving myself to you, Zacarias. Freely. Without restrictions. I don’t know what your women do, but I can only be me. I know of no other way. I don’t want you to go. The thought of you alone, fighting an evil enemy night after night with no one to hold you, is abhorrent to me.

  If I walk into the sun, I will not be fighting an enemy.

  No, but you will always be alone and that is unacceptable to me. I can’t find impressions to show you why, so, yes, I’m giving myself to you of my own free will to entice you to stay. I want you to stay with me. What you do with me is entirely up to you. But you will not go alone if you choose to leave.

  His mouth was filled with her, his hands sliding possessively over her curves and hollows. How could he give her up? And yet, he was no man of honor if he did not. You did not answer my question. Are you not afraid?

  Yes. She was absolutely truthful. Of course I have fear of the unknown, but that fear is small compared with my need to keep you safe.

  His heart clenched. Do you fully understand what you are offering to me, Marguarita? Her body called to him. Her blood. The taste of her burst through his mouth, through every cell in his body. His groin swelled until he was so full and hard the ache was intolerable. The thought of this woman giving herself so completely to him was intoxicating. His to command. His every wish fulfilled. Marguarita with her soft skin and her doe eyes. His.

  He lifted his head to look into her eyes. They stared at each other a very long time. He felt himself falling, drowning in those dark pools of courage.

  Be very certain. You will think only of
me. Your life will be my life. My happiness will be your happiness. I know no other way. If you are mine, if you wish me to continue this life, then you will bind yourself to me for all time. Forever. He sighed, his voice sinking to a whisper of sarcasm. Not so long, forever. Marguarita, the years will be endless if you are unhappy.

  I know what I ask of you, she said. I know you’re weary and you fear who and what you are. But I want you to stay—with me. I want you to live. To know happiness for whatever time we have together.

  There was no more resistance in him. She was going to be his world, and he would fight with every breath in his body to keep her.

  “Then give yourself to me.”

  His whisper was against the soft swell of her breast, right over her heart. He felt her heart jump and then begin to pound. His hand drifted down her body to slide between her legs. She was damp for him, her arousal evident, but as his fingers skimmed over her panties, her heart accelerated and he felt her force herself to stand still for him. He hesitated, his teeth already lengthened, the taste of her bursting through his mouth. He didn’t want her afraid. And she had to be certain.

  Once I claim you as mine, there is no going back.

  She drew a breath. He felt it in his own lungs. She caught his face in her hands and looked him straight in the eye. Stay with me.

  She was afraid, but determined. He wasn’t about to be a saint and turn away what she was offering. Life. Emotion. Color. Something for himself. Something all his.

  He bent his head and ran his tongue over her frantically beating pulse. He felt the echo of that throbbing beat deep in his own veins, pulsing through his thick cock. His teeth rasped back and forth over her skin, his tongue easing the small sting. Each time his teeth bit gently, he felt the liquid heat dampen her panties in welcome.

  “I will say words—powerful words that will unite us. Our souls will become one. I will take your blood and give you mine in a full exchange. This will not bring you fully into my world, but it is our second exchange and you will be more than halfway there. There will be—repercussions.”

  I don’t understand.

  “Unlike human marriages, ours are irreversible. Once the words are said, there is no retracting them.” His mouth teased her pulse and moved to her nipple, suckling a little roughly, tugging with his teeth, once more moving his tongue in a velvet rasp to ease the ache. “You will always need me near you. I will always need you close to me. Our minds will forever seek to remain locked within the other’s. I will never be able to let you be free. Nor will I be free. There will be no Zacarias without Marguarita. No Marguarita without Zacarias.”

  She took another deep breath, her fingers burrowing into the thick mass of his hair. She closed the strands in her fist and held tightly.

  He took that for her assent. There would be no going back for either of them. She was giving him life when she gave herself into his keeping. He pulled strongly at her breast, allowing himself to get lost in the sensations of pure pleasure.

  “Te avio päläfertiilam,” he whispered against her pulse. “You are my lifemate.” His body shuddered, the fiery streaks of need turning his groin into an inferno. He shed his clothes with a thought and drew her closer, removing the lacy scraps shielding her body from him in the same way. “Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam.”

  What does that mean?

  His teeth nuzzled that pounding pulse. “I claim you as my lifemate.” He kissed her soft skin along the curve of her breast and bit deep. Pain flashed through her. He pressed his hand between her legs, caressing with his knuckles, sending shivers of excitement coursing through her. The pain gave way to an erotic rush. She threw her head back and held him to her breast, her fist pulling at his hair.

  The essence of her life poured into him, feeding his addiction. He craved that unique, sexy taste that was all Marguarita. All his. Only for him. Created for him.

  He switched to the more intimate form of communication while he drank. Ted kuuluak, kacad, koje—I belong to you. He would always belong to her. He always had.

  Élidamet andam—I offer my life for you. Pesämet andam—I give you my protection. Uskolfertiilamet andam—I give you my allegiance.

  Her blood flowed into him, rejuvenating every cell. Filling him—with her. He could feel the powerful ritual words doing their work, binding them together with millions of tiny, unbreakable threads.

  Sívamet andam—I give you my heart. He did give her his heart such as it was. Shadowed. Damaged. But it was hers to keep for all time.

  Sielamet andam—I give you my soul. His soul was in shreds. So many holes had pierced it. All those kills over the centuries. He had lived for them and each one had taken a toll on the soul he was giving to her.

  Ainamet andam—I give you my body. His body craved every inch of her, and he could feel that same craving rushing through her for him. He felt it in her welcoming wetness as he pushed one finger into her, feeling her muscles clamp down on him, desperate to draw him inside of her.

  Zacarias lifted his head and watched the ruby beads run down the slope of her breast before dipping his head and following the trail with his tongue. He used his saliva to close the puncture wounds before shifting her in his arms, lifting her and cradling her close to him. Very gently he carried her to the bed where he sat, holding her naked body in his lap.

  She was beautiful. Her rounded breasts were streaked with marks from his hands and mouth. His. His mind couldn’t believe that someone so much of the light could look at him with such smoldering desire. With such a need burning in her to be with him. A gift. His miracle.

  “You will drink, Marguarita. I know it feels wrong to you, but this is our way. You’ve put yourself into my keeping.” He drew a line over the pulse beating in his breast and pressed her mouth to him. “Trust in me now.”

  Marguarita tried. She moved her lips over the laceration, her tongue tentatively tasting him. He groaned, his erection pressing tightly against her bare buttocks. He had not expected the terrible raw demands of his body, the way she would get inside of him, all heat and fire, melting the ice in his veins, bringing back floods of memories, good and bad, bringing him fully to life. Bringing his body to such a fevered pitch of sheer need. He uttered a command to make it easier for her to accept his gift of immortality.

  He whispered the next part of the ritual binding words into the cloud of her hair. “Sívamet kuuluak kaik että a ted. I take into my keeping the same that is yours.”

  Her body would always be in his keeping and he would spend his nights worshiping her in every way he could. He filled her mind with erotic images. His hands roamed over her, massaging her rounded bottom, sliding up the clean line of her back to the flair of her hips and her narrow, tucked-in waist.

  One hand tugged and rolled her nipples to keep her stimulated while she drew the essence of his life into her body—while the very blood of the Carpathians claimed her for his own.

  “Ainaak olenszal sívambin—your life will be cherished by me for all my time.” Cherished. He knew the meaning of the word now, where he never had before. He would cherish her. Protect her. Keep her.

  Marguarita was the meaning of life, his holy grail at the end of the centuries-old battle between good and evil. She was the reason. She was what he had been looking for all of his life and never once realizing it. “Te élidet ainaak pide minan—your life will be placed above my own for all time.” He knew the moment he uttered the words that he meant them. Her life would always be put above his own. His woman. His personal miracle. A human woman who had found a drowning man and served herself up as a lifeboat.

  “Te avio päläfertiilam—you are my lifemate.” Colors shimmered before his eyes, glittering and bright. Vivid, dizzying colors. For a moment his world tilted and then righted itself. Those colors pulsed and throbbed in his heavy erection, sending spirals of electrical currents charging through his body.

  “Ainaak sívamet jutta oleny—you are bound to me for all eternity.” He had tried to save
her, but it was far too late now. They were tied together soul to soul for all time. She would stay with him through both good and bad and he feared, for her, it would be far more difficult than she could ever imagine with her modern mind. She could not conceive of the kind of monster he truly was.

  “Ainaak terád vigyázak—you are always in my care.” That was the one thing he could give her. He could promise her. He would never go back on his word. There would be absolute loyalty to this woman and he would always, always see to her care.

  Gently he slipped his hand between her mouth and his chest. Her tongue rasped one last time over the laceration and his body clenched, shuddered, the feeling so erotic he knew he would want the experience over and over. He closed the wound and took her mouth, his hand on the nape of her neck, holding her still while he fed at the rapture there.

  Heat poured through him. He shifted her, turning, laying her out on the bed in front of him like a gift. Her eyes were slightly glazed, brilliant champagne diamonds glittering with lust and need. He’d put that look there. It was all for him. She was all for him.

  He knelt over her, his hands in between her thighs, pulling her legs apart so she was open to him, so he could enjoy the sight of the glistening evidence of her need of him. His hands went to her breasts, roughly kneading, rolling and tugging on her sensitive nipples. Every streak of fire that went to her core shot straight through to his cock. He took her into his mouth, suckling strongly, his teeth teasing that taut peak, tugging and biting while she writhed and gasped beneath him.

  Her hips bucked with every sting of his teeth, with every lave of his tongue. He sucked hard, reveling in her body, in the soft, pliant offering. His. All for him. Her arms came up to circle his head, she arched into his mouth, pushing deeper, her hips lifting to rub over his body. His heavy erection pressed against the V at the junction of her legs and she widened her sprawl to try to get closer to him. Her smooth thighs rubbed against his body, driving him past sanity.