She held her breath. She was totally naked, every line and curve exposed to his hungry gaze. He just stood there, hands on the curve of her hips, his gaze moving over her, absolutely, wholly focused on her in that way he had, as if he saw nothing else, was aware of nothing else. Only Ivory. She put her hand on his chest, right over his heart, and felt it beating hard. Stark desire radiated from him-for her.
She'd never had a man look at her like that. Certainly Draven had wanted her, but not with love carved into every line of his face. Not with his body shuddering and his heart hammering. He had never looked at her with such a fever of need, with his mind open to hers and his heart given fully to her. No one had ever made her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, wholly desired, completely loved-until now.
«Ivory.» Her name came out strangled in his throat. A soft symphony that brushed her skin just as effectively as his hands.
He brought her to him again, taking her mouth, this time in a fever of need, scorching her with his searing heat as he pulled her closer, so that his heavy erection pushed against her soft belly right through the material of his trousers. She heard her own strangled moan as his mouth fastened on hers, this time without that slow burn. This time wild and so hot it scorched her. He had driven her out of her mind so that need was the only thing she knew, and she melted into him, nearly blind with hunger for his touch.
His tongue tangled with hers as his hands came back to her sensitive breasts, fingers tugging and rolling her nipples until she was panting, gasping, little whimpers escaping. His skin felt hot beneath his shirt, as her nails dug deep into his shoulders. A shudder went through his body. His mouth was addictive, that dark, rich taste of sin and sex she found intoxicating. His body was hard and powerful, moving against hers, controlled, aggressive now, inflaming her more. She could feel each defined muscle rippling beneath his skin, his body tense with need as his kisses sent electrical sparks sizzling through her veins directly to her feminine channel so she was damp and needy, and moaning into his mouth.
She couldn't stop touching him, his hair, his neck, his throat, sliding her hands over his arms and the muscles there, dragging husky male groans, throaty and raw with passion for him. The sound inflamed her more until she thought she was burning up, her body moving almost compulsively against his.
He made a sound. Dark. Dangerous. Intoxicating. He simply drove his hips upward, against the junction of her thighs, pressing tightly while he rocked her there. The urgent movement was incredibly sexy, sending a shaft of desire, sweet and hot, piercing through her core, and she buried her face against his neck, stroking with her tongue, nipping with her teeth, reveling in the way his body shuddered in reaction.
His fingers found her inner thigh. Stroked. Took the breath from her body. His leg forced her thighs open to him, the rough material rubbing over her skin as she bucked helplessly into him, nearly sobbing with need.
«Are you wet for me, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved?»
His voice was a black velvet seduction in her ear. A blatant, wicked temptation.
«Are you?» He sounded like pure sin.
She tugged frantically at his shirt, desperate to get at him, as need clawed at her. She ached, her feminine sheath coiled tight with building tension, frantic for release, for him to fill the clutching emptiness. She managed to shove his shirt off his body and couldn't stand anything between them, not even for another second. She stripped him with magic, with frenzied, almost violent haste.
One hand fisted in her hair, dragged her head back to expose her throat to rake gently with his teeth. He bit down and her womb clenched. He trailed fiery kisses over her neck, and then his mouth was ravaging her breasts, his teeth and tongue sending molten fire racing through her blood. His hand slipped over her thigh, caressed and stroked the soft inner skin, moving higher, knuckles brushing the damp mound at the junction there.
Ivory inhaled sharply. Went still. Her breath caught in her lungs. Just stayed trapped there, burning and raw. Razvan pulled his head back and stared into her eyes. She drowned there. Holding her gaze captive, he plunged his fingers into her tight, wet channel. Ivory's eyes widened. She heard the surprised wail escaping her throat, dizzy with shock.
Razvan thrust into her mind so he could feel her response, her reactions guiding his every move. She didn't know if she could stand feeling both of them, the ravenous hunger, the building fire leaping between them.
Still looking at her, Razvan dropped to his knees. He lowered his gaze in a slow, possessive study of her body, watching her flush with arousal, all the while his fingers plunged deep. Her scent called to him as she rode his hand, almost sobbing. Very slowly he removed his fingers and licked at them, savoring the exotic taste of her. She moaned and the sound vibrated through his heavy erection so that he pulsed with urgent need. He ignored his own body's reaction, desperate for the taste of her.
Desperate. He was desperate for her taste. That alone was enough to undo her, that this man, kneeling at her feet, looking like a fallen angel, could be so desperate for her taste, for the hot cream spilling out to welcome him.
He kept her thighs spread with his hands and took her with his mouth, his tongue sliding through the satin-soft heat. She shuddered. Caught his hair with both fists and yanked, the biting pain thickening his shaft even more. His name was strangled, cut off as she lost her ability to breathe when he licked at her like a hungry wolf.
The rasp of his tongue was too much. Her knees weakened and her body coiled too tight, burned too hot, clenching and rippling with shocking intensity. She cried out his name again, trying to say stop, but not wanting this to ever end. It mattered little; he was beyond hearing, his blood thundering in his ears, the taste of her driving him wild. He ate at her like a starving wolf, his tongue stroking, lapping and then suckling her clit, plunging deep and then flicking at the hard nub while she bucked and thrust against his mouth in a mindless, fiery explosion.
Ivory screamed. She'd never screamed in her life. Not when Draven caught her. Not when the vampires had attacked. Never. Not once. But the pleasure bordered on ecstasy, roaring through her belly and rippling through her womb, wave after wave, so that she clung to his shoulders for support while the tidal wave burst through her.
Razvan lifted her then, cradling her in his arms, taking her to the soft bed in the chamber, weaving and floating a silken sheet to lay her on. He came down with her, spreading her legs a second time, his mouth latching on to her, tongue stabbing deep to drive her up a second time. She wept, digging her nails into his back, trying desperately to hold on to sanity as he took her up fast. She heard herself pleading, for what she didn't even know, and then he was rising above her, his face a harsh mask of desire in stark contrast to the unashamed, fierce love in his eyes.
She felt him press the broad head of his erection at her entrance, and time stopped. Sound stopped. There was only the sensation of his body demanding entrance to hers. There was white lightning flashing over her skin, through her body, streaking through her bloodstream as he began to invade, his thick shaft pushing through the tight folds of her body. Between her thighs, his shaft was like a hot brand, where he stretched her slowly on an exquisite rack of pleasure.
His voice was harsh as he murmured to her in the ancient tongue, somewhere between swearing and praising, maybe both. Her blood, thundering in her ears, drowned out the actual words. He was trying to ease into her, to allow her body plenty of time to accommodate his length and girth, but she couldn't stay still, not even when his hands pinned her hips and held her. The pleasure was too much. She thrust upward, using her heels for leverage, just as he eased forward again.
A lash of pain accompanied the pleasure pouring over her as his body thrust deep into hers. His fingers tightened on her hips-dug in-forced her to be still.
«Stop, Ivory. Do not move.» His breathing was as harsh as his voice, ragged and uneven. «We're both going to go up in flames. You are so tight.»
She coul
d see his white teeth snap together as her muscles gripped and squeezed. That smooth control had slipped. She loved that she'd managed to shake his calm. She could feel the pounding need in him, the dark hunger, see the lengthening of his teeth, just that hint of danger that made her heart jump and her body flood with more liquid cream. She dug her nails into him, her breasts heaving, desperate for more-desperate for him to move. «Please, Razvan. Please.»
The urgency in her took him over the edge. He caught her hips and dragged her legs over his arms, levering himself to ride over her clit, and then he plunged deep, the friction nearly intolerable, the pleasure so intense she was afraid of losing herself completely in him. He reared back and began a harsh rhythm, deep and strong and fast, so deep he pierced her womb, the hot length of him filling her, binding them together.
His mind moved in hers so that she felt the fire streaking through his body, the way her tight sheath dragged and milked at him, scorching hot, velvet soft, an exquisite pleasure-pain that shook him to his soul. The tension in her body built, coiling tighter and tighter, until she was frantically writhing beneath him, her breath coming in wild gasps, her head tossing back and forth, her nails raking at his back.
«Razvan.» She sobbed his name. A plea. A demand. She needed… Needed!
«I know, Ivory,» he bit out softly between his teeth. «Give yourself to me. All of you. Let go, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved. I will catch you.»
She felt consumed with fire. Terrified she might disappear in the flames. The tension wound her so tight, yet she couldn't let go, couldn't bring herself to take that last leap of faith. She sobbed again, clutching him tighter, not wanting this moment to end, but fearing if they didn't stop, she would be lost.
He pounded into her, his shaft a steel-edged sword, piercing her womb and her heart, taking a part of her into him, just as a part of him was deep within her.
«It is already too late,» he whispered, and his voice was that of a dark angel. A whisper of velvet, a lash of heat.
It was too late to save herself; her body was already lost, would forever need his. He had driven her so high she had to fly. He dragged her closer and leaned over her, his body still surging into hers, over and over, a piston that never stopped, never slowed, until she thought she might scream again with the wonder of it. She felt her body tighten. And tighten. Gripping his. Squeezing. She could hear the sounds of their bodies coming together, the hard slap of flesh; felt the power of him moving within her. His body tilted one more time and he dragged the long length of his hard shaft over her sensitized clit.
Her body went rigid. For a moment she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Her body tightened around his thick shaft, clamping down almost painfully as the rippling sensations began building into a giant tidal wave, spreading through her body like a flash fire, white hot and powerful. Wave after wave. Never ending. A shock that put her system on overload. She wept with the force of her release, the beauty and wonder of it, as she felt her body take his, forcing him with her, hearing his hoarse shout as his hot seed emptied into her.
She felt his bite, the pleasure-pain of it, and her body clenched and rippled again and again as he took her blood in an erotic exchange. She arched her back, thrusting upward with her hips as her body continued to clench around his, squeezing down on him, milking every drop from his body. He swept his tongue across the swell of her breasts, closing the pinpricks and looked down on her with his sexy eyes.
Just his look made her body react again, another wave washing over both of them. She raised her head to capture his mouth with hers, kissing him, holding him to her as she kissed her way down his throat. She felt his shaft harden again that fast, filling and stretching her as she licked at his pulse. A harsh groan escaped him.
Her teeth nipped his skin and she felt the instant jerk of his erection. She bit down and he slammed his hips hard, burying himself deep, holding her bottom with one hand, forcing her to accept his wildly plunging body. She felt the taste of him exploding inside of her, filling her with his essence. She'd never felt so complete. So loved. She swept her tongue across the pinpricks on his throat and let her body go up another time, this time without resistance.
She could hear her own soft gasps, smell their combined scents as the waves broke over her again and again before he found his own release.
They lay together, their arms around each other, their bodies joined, neither wanting to move. It was several minutes before Razvan found the strength to move, rolling off her to stare up at the glittering ceiling, his fingers linking behind his head.
«Give me a few minutes and I will carry you to the pool.»
He turned his head, his smile tender, sending her heart somersaulting. He looked different. Younger. Happier. That same serenity was there, but this time there was love looking back at her with pure, undiluted happiness and joy. She wished she could share her emotions with him aloud, but she contented herself with surrounding him with the deepest feelings she had for him, overwhelming love, so much she couldn't give voice, even telepathically.
His fingers moved over hers, stroked small caresses until she linked her fingers with his. «Thank you, Ivory.»
«For what?» A smile escaped. «I think I should be thanking you.»
His smiled widened. «You have given me the most beautiful experience of my life. Whatever else happens, I will always have the memory of you giving yourself to me.»
«I was afraid,» she confessed in a low voice.
«I know you were,» he said gently, «which made your gift all the more treasured.»
«Are you really going to carry me to the pool?»
«Don't sound so scared,» he teased. «Somehow I will manage to find the strength. I promise, I will not drop you.»
She tightened her fingers around his. «I know that. I just might feel silly.»
«No one is here but us, Ivory,» he pointed out, his tone more tender than ever.
She felt her heart twist again. He could do that so easily to her. Move her. Make her melt. It wasn't his incredible body or the way he took her to such heights, it was that enduring love he seemed to have for her. A rock. A foundation. Strong and accepting that made her feel as if she could always count on him.
«I know.»
«Do you think I will think less of you?»
She was silent, contemplating his question, turning it over and over in her mind. She just felt ridiculous feeling about him the way that she did. Why couldn't she let herself go in the way that he did?
«I don't think I know how to be a woman.» She didn't know how else to say it.
Razvan turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. «Ivory, you are my woman. You do not have to be like any other. I do not want any other. There is no comparison. Be who you are. Make no apologies, certainly not to me.» A small smile curved his mouth and he leaned forward to brush kisses over her mouth. «I love the way you are, that little reluctance you have to tell me I am the greatest man in all the world.»
His soft laughter stroked over her skin. He sounded so boyish, carefree even, less inhibited for the first time in his life.
He managed to climb to his feet and lifted her, cradling her in his arms as if she were as light as a child. «You have worn me out, warrior woman.»
Ivory couldn't help laughing. «If you were truly the greatest man in all the world, you would not be worn out. You would be ready to service my every need.»
His eyebrow shot up. «I believe that is a challenge.» He fastened his mouth to hers as he took her through to the next room where the water spilled out of the rock wall into the smooth basin. «I am more than up for servicing your every need.» He whispered the words against her mouth, his tongue flicking over her lips, savoring her taste.
«Really? I am not quite as certain.» She used her haughtiest tone.
He dropped her into the water. She came up sputtering to find him standing there, hands on his hips, the water lapping at his thighs.
«That was so mean.�
�
«You deserved it.»
«Maybe I did,» she agreed, laughing.
He was teaching her how to have fun. To play. To take each moment they had together and live it well. In the spirit of learning, she sent up a plume of water with deadly aim. The water shot over his face and splashed down his chest.
«I thought you might need a little cooling off.»
His eyebrow rose. Amusement lit his eyes. «I think you just declared war.»
She stuck out her chin. «I think I did.»
Dark Slayer 20 Page 31
