Dark Demon 16

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Dark Demon 16 Page 28

by Christine Feehan


  He brushed aside his clothing in the way of his people, with barely a thought other than he wished them gone. Catching the front of her camisole, he stripped it away, baring her breasts to his hungry gaze, the primitiveness of the action heightening his pleasure. She was beautiful, spilling out of the material, round and firm and good enough to eat. He bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth.

  Her hips bucked hard against him, her belly contracted and a hot moan escaped. He held her there, suckling at her breast, her body on fire and her needs swamping him. With each

  swipe of his tongue and tug of his teeth, he felt her body rock, her muscles contract; he knew her body was wet and slick and welcoming. Her mind was wide open to his deliberately. She shared her desire, fed his needs with her own open abandon. Whatever he wanted, she was there to fulfill for him and she expected the same.

  His hand slid down her belly to the little ring that had intrigued him so much. He touched it, slid lower to find her pants.

  «Take them off of me,» she ordered, bending forward to lick at his nipples. «Hurry, Vikirnoff. Get my clothes. They hurt my skin.»

  He stripped her, deliberately rough, arousing her further as he walked her backward until she was against the cavern wall, took possession of her mouth again as he pulled her naked body tightly against his.

  She cried out, unable to stop the small sound, uncaring that he knew she wanted to sob with so much pleasure running through her body. She ground her hips against him, wanting more, seeking more. His hand cupped her breast in reward, thumb teasing her nipple, stroking and caressing so that waves rippled through her body and tightened her womb. «More,» she whispered, greedy for it all, every experience.

  His teeth nibbled at her chin, teased her throat and nipped the swell of her breast. He lifted her easily, his strength enormous, holding her pinned against the wall while he laved her belly button and pressed little kisses on her stomach.

  Her breath came in gasps. She tried to wrap her legs around him, so hot and wet she needed relief, but he lifted her to a ledge, so that her bottom sank into a groove there. His hands were hard on her knees jerking her thighs apart. The cool air hit her hot core, but nothing could cool her, nothing could make the ache stop.

  She heard her own heart beat. She heard the sound of her ragged breathing. Then his breath was on her. His peculiar brand. A claiming that would never go away. She felt it deep inside and her entire body tightened to the point of pain. She was nearly sobbing for him. His hand cupped her mound, pressed into her heat. She jerked, twisting with hunger. Her pulse pounded in her ears, throbbed in her womb. His finger slid through her heat, pressed deeper into her.

  That easy she came, shattering into fragments, her body so responsive she couldn't hide her reaction if she wanted to. Her eyes met his. She loved his face, the masculine lines etched so deep there, a warrior's face. A lover's face. She brushed her fingertips over the lines, traced his lips, all the while staring into his eyes, reveling in the sheer intensity of his desire for her, the feel in his mind that he was on the razor thin edge of his control.

  «I want you, Natalya.» His voice was husky. His fingers pushed deep so that she couldn't stop the way her hips rode him, every muscle contracting with heart-stopping pleasure.

  «I know you do, Vikirnoff. I want you, too.» She could barely manage to get the words out, gasping as his fingers retreated and plunged deep again.

  He shook his head. «I mean you. I want you to understand I do not want any other woman. Only you.»

  She cried out as his fingers withdrew. He caught her hips in his hands, his thighs wedging between hers. «Look at me, ainaak sivamet jutta, I want you to know who you are with.»

  She met his gaze steadily. «I know exactly who I'm with.»

  His erection was painfully hard, almost an agony he could no longer bear. He needed to be deep inside of her where he belonged. Where they would be connected for all time. He pressed against her feminine channel, so wet and slick and hot with hunger for him.

  Natalya moaned and the sound was almost too much for him, vibrating through his body until it felt like fingers on his too-tight skin stroked and caressed up and down the length of his erection. He kept her gaze captive as he pressed into her, a slow, long stroke that pushed through her feminine folds so that she gripped him like a tight fist. His breath escaped in a long rush of air as he waited for her body to accept him, waited to push a little deeper. Again. And then again. He wanted to be so deep she would never get him out.

  She shuddered with pleasure. His fingers dug deep into her hips, holding her into the seat in the ledge. He began to move, withdrawing, a long excruciatingly slow movement that robbed her of her ability to think. She could only feel, could only dig her nails deep into his arm and hang on as he plunged into her, thrusting hard and deep, driving through her velvet folds while she screamed his name. He didn't stop, but kept surging powerfully into her, thick and hard, pushing through her tight folds, tilting her to get a better angle, holding her on the edge of release until she sobbed for relief. The loss of control shattered her when she'd always had so much control. It was frightening to need so much, to feel helpless under the pounding beat of sexual hunger.

  «Vikirnoff.» Just that. His name. His name. The breathless plea sent him careening out of all control. Every muscle in his body tightened to the point of pain. Every nerve ending in his body was alive and shrieking for release. The sensation built like a volcano, a strong powerful rush that shook him. He had never felt such intensity, such a feeling of need and hunger and possession as he did at that moment. Lust and love seemed intertwined, inseparable. His fingers dug into her skin and fangs exploded in his mouth. He fought back the urge to take her blood as he neared the edge of his control.

  Natalya's soft breathless gasps and moans drove him over the edge. Her body was like hot silk, her feminine channel as tight as a fist, squeezing and gripping until the friction and heat burst through him like molten gold.

  His release was shattering and took her with him, so that her muscles convulsed around

  him, over and over, powerful contractions that kept them both gasping for breath, lungs burning and bodies on fire while the world around them fragmented. Even his powerful legs turned to mush so that he leaned over her, gripping her thighs for support.

  She looked an offering, lying back so that her breasts thrust upwards invitingly, her legs sprawled open to allow him to stand between her thighs. Her hair was in wild disarray and her eyes were half closed, long lashes fanning against her cheeks. «I can't move.»

  «Neither can I.» In truth he didn't want to move. He wanted to stay buried in her for all time. She was a haven, a secret refuge that offered glimpses of paradise. He stroked her thighs with the pads of his fingers, needing to touch her, needing the intimacy of being able to touch her so freely.

  «You didn't take my blood.» She didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved. In all honesty, the craving was in her veins, in her mind, so strong she felt the lengthening of her incisors and the taste of him in her mouth.

  His gaze jumped to hers. Hot. Hungry. The intensity stealing her breath.

  «I have not discussed such a thing with you, Natalya.» His accent was much thicker than usual and set her heart pounding.

  «Why?»

  «I will not take that decision from you.» He had made up his mind to honor her wishes. He wanted her acceptance of him as much as she wanted it of him.

  She was all too aware of his body locked so deeply inside of her. Of his hands stroking her thighs, moving up her belly to brush her breasts. She should have felt vulnerable splayed out as she was, but she felt utterly sexy. Wanted. Needed even. It was in the heat of his gaze and the stroke of his fingers. In the way his body stayed hard and thick and throbbing with fire even through the catastrophic explosion between them.

  Natalya reached up to run her fingers through the silk of his hair. «I have to find the book. If I were to make a blood exchange with you,
would it affect the way I am able call upon the elements? My magick is a part of me, like breathing. If magick was lost to me, I wouldn't know who I was anymore.»

  He closed his eyes. He was wholly Carpathian, born a hunter, a shape-shifter, able to command the things of nature. He didn't have to give up his world or who or what he was. Would she still have all her abilities? He couldn't give her an answer. Vikirnoff groaned and bent toward her.

  Natalya responded eagerly, fusing her mouth with his, delighted that the action drove him deeper into her and set aftershocks rippling through her body with enough force to start new ones. When he lifted his head, she kept her hands on his shoulders forcing him to look into her eyes. His hips moved in a gentle, almost lazy rhythm, sending spasms of pleasure

  through her body. She wanted to be a part of him. Of his life. But she wanted him to want her for herself. For who she was, not because some ancient words had bound them together, or because the universe had decreed they belonged.

  «You look sad, ainaak sivamet jutta, what are you thinking?»

  «Aren't you sharing my mind?»

  «Not at this precise moment. I enjoy watching the expressions on your face. Right now, while we are connected and sharing the joy in our bodies, you are looking sad. I must endeavor to find better ways to please you.»

  A faint smile curved her mouth. «I think you're well aware that you please me. Stop fishing for compliments.»

  He moved to adjust his angle just slightly as he pushed deep with a hard stroke, heightening her pleasure even more so that a small gasp escaped and the sadness disappeared from her eyes to be replaced with something altogether different.

  «Vikirnoff, what is ainaak sivamet jutta?» Another moan escaped as he plunged deeper again. «The exact translation.»

  «It means 'forever to my heart connected.'» He shrugged, a slight movement of his wide shoulders. «Or fixed. Forever to my heart fixed. The words are interchangeable.»

  Her gaze drifted over his face. «Am I? Am I connected to your heart?»

  «How could you think otherwise?»

  Natalya didn't have an answer for that. She had confidence in her intelligence, her courage and her abilities in most areas, but not that of a woman. Of a partner. She had never thought in those terms and the ideas in his mind of what a lifemate should be were very far from what she was-or could ever be. She wanted to be his ainaak sivamet jutta, but she had doubts he was seeing her realistically. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the ecstasy of his lovemaking, unwilling to think too much about the future.

  She lost herself in his body, in the absolute magic they created together. She craved the feel of his hands on her body, the feel of his skin and muscles, the power of him as he took her. There was an edge to him, as if he could be ruthless in his lovemaking, pushing her beyond any limit she had ever thought she had, all the while heightening her pleasure, keeping her wanting more. Always more.

  Time slipped away from her. There was only Vikirnoff and his hands and mouth and body. Each time she thought it was over and they would rest, he was there again, demanding again, wanting her. Hungry for her. She felt the scrape of his teeth and swirl of his tongue. There wasn't an inch of her that didn't go untouched, untasted, unused, but all the while he was wringing gasps of pleasure, moans and pleas for more.

  He carried her to the hot springs and settled her on his lap where he could bathe her. Limp with fatigue, deliciously sore, she buried her face in his neck. «Thank you for not taking my blood. I feel the need in you, but you were so careful.» His pulse pounded beneath her lips, the strong ebb and flow of life that beckoned and called and tempted.

  «I told you I would not.»

  «Still, I would have let you,» she confessed. «I wasn't thinking straight.»

  «I told you I would not,» he reiterated. «If it is important to you, I will always remember, even when I am not thinking clearly either.»

  She turned her head to lie against his shoulder so she could look up at his face. There was male beauty in the lines etched there as well as other traits she was becoming familiar with. Vikirnoff wore power and dominance as easily as other men wore clothes, yet it was so natural to him, so intrinsic to his personality, she had accepted it in him without much thought, because he tempered those things with integrity and fairness.

  «I'm beginning to like you.»

  His smile was brief, but it flared in his eyes and her heart, as tired as she was, responded with a quick beat. She smoothed her fingertip across his lips.

  «That is a start.» He tugged on her wet hair. «You could be hard on a man's ego if he allowed it.»

  She laughed. She couldn't help it. She wanted to spend all night making love every way they could and feasting on each other's body. «I doubt anything could dent your ego, Vikirnoff. The water feels so good.»

  «I do not want you to be sore. I intend to make certain you are properly healed before you go to sleep.»

  There was a note in his voice, husky, sexy, a promise of something sinfully wonderful that sent heat spreading through her veins. «I'm all for that. Are we going to stay here?» She didn't want to be separated from him. She couldn't go through another day without him.

  «I think it is best. The vampire cannot send human enemies against you and I can better protect us here.»

  «How is Gabrielle doing? Is she still alive?»

  «Yes. I hold her spirit with mine. They have sent her to sleep. Falcon will give her blood on rising. If her body can wait, Mikhail will do the third exchange on the following rising. The wait will give her plenty of time for several healing sessions with the others and a chance for her body to adjust to the ancient blood.»

  «How will she be connected to you, Vikirnoff?» She stifled the small pang of jealousy she was ashamed of feeling. She hadn't had anyone for herself in so long and she wanted to be his only.

  His teeth nibbled at her shoulder. «Not in a sexual way, or in the way of a lifemate, Natalya. She will have a private path to my thoughts, as I will to hers. Our spirits will maintain a connection, as she will have been in my keeping for over twenty-four hours. Gabrielle will awaken as one of us. She will not have a lifemate to turn to for support in her new world. Her sister and brother-kin are returning as quickly as possible to aid her, but she is half in love with Gary, a human. The males will not want her to continue a relationship with him as there are so few Carpathian women and they will hope she can be a lifemate to one of them. She will awaken to many problems and will need aid.»

  «And you have to be there for her.»

  «You wished me to save her life,» he reminded gently, even as his teeth bit down over the pulse beating so frantically in her throat. «I could devour you, Natalya, and never get enough.»

  She laughed again because she could hear the truth in his voice and felt the stirring of his body against her. It reassured her when she felt so vulnerable. «I believe you. I'm exhausted. We can't possibly, not again. I need to sleep for a week or two. And so do you.»

  Vikirnoff lifted her with casual ease and carried her to the far side of the cavern where he had prepared a large bed on the ground. Candles were everywhere, the flames flickering and dancing, throwing shadows on the walls to illuminate crystals and give color to the walls. The spread appeared to be a midnight blue, velvet soft with a host of cushions. He laid her facedown in the middle of them, his hands gentle on her body, positioning her head on a soft pillow and bringing her arms out.

  «We're wet.»

  «We're not.» And they weren't.

  Natalya allowed her lashes to drift down as his hands began a massage at the nape of her neck. He murmured to her in his own language, urging her to sleep while he attended to her sore body. He kneaded the muscles in her neck and shoulders, her arms and back, lower still to her buttocks and thighs and calves before turning her over to attend the front of her.

  Natalya drifted in a haze of mind-numbing pleasure. She felt his tongue swirling over her pulse. Teasing the valley betwee
n her breasts. Her nipples ached from the sweet torment he had inflicted for hours, but this time it was as soothing as it was stimulating as his tongue flicked and laved and lingered. He suckled gently, before attending the undersides of her breasts and spending a great deal of time tugging on the small golden hoop in her belly.

  «You like that, don't you?» She didn't open her eyes. She liked the feel of drifting while

  he explored her in such a slow, languid fashion. There was something to be said for the slow sensual buildup as opposed to the violence of their earlier hunger.

  «Very much.» He nuzzled the ring and kissed his way down to the tawny triangle. «I love your body, Natalya, all soft and firm and curved so beautifully.» Deliberately he pressed a finger into her wet heat. «Mostly I love how you respond for me. I have had many years to imagine what it would be like. I've studied how to please a woman to be prepared. I wanted to know every way I could bring her pleasure and how she could do the same for me. But the imagination, when one has no feeling, cannot prepare for this.»

 

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