Darius groaned aloud, every sane thought, every good intention, flying out of his head. In its place was a need so strong and urgent that he fastened his mouth fiercely to hers. In primitive, stormy, almost violent possession. His mouth fed on hers. He swept her away from the crushing mountain, from the pain of her wounds, and from the steaming water. She could feel his hands sliding possessively over her skin, slow and deliberate, as if he were committing every curve and hollow to memory. She could feel the soft earth pressing into her as he trapped her beneath him, his body, so large and strong, blanketing hers. His mouth never stopped its series of long, drugging kisses that seemed to steal her will and arouse him beyond all human boundaries of need.
Tempest found her hands clutching his wild mane of hair, hanging on for dear life as the firestorm raged around them, through them. His hands cupped her full breasts, slid along her ribs to her belly, found the triangle of curls below, and caressed her thighs. Everywhere he touched he left flames behind, on her skin, inside her body, until she wanted to scream for relief.
She thought to be afraid of his enormous strength, but that thought, too, was swept away on a tidal wave of passion as his palm pressed into her heat. She made a single sound, a low moan in her throat that ignited the fuse smoldering in him. Darius’s mouth left hers for the first time, trailing fire down her neck to the thrusting tip of her breast.
She cried out, arching into him, nearly exploding as his fingers found her tight, hot sheath and his mouth pulled strongly, his teeth scraping and teasing the swell of her breast. His knee nudged hers apart even as his tongue lapped at the valley between her breasts. He was above her, his face harsh yet sensual, his eyes black, burning coals.
It was happening too fast. Way out of control. Tempest felt him, thick and aggressive, pressing into her. He seemed far too large for her to accommodate. Trapped beneath his body, she couldn’t move, almost couldn’t breathe. His teeth scraped the swell of her left breast, an erotic enticement that set her arching toward his mouth. Yet fear beat at her as he surged forward, his body pinning hers, invading hers, taking possession as if he had every right to her. She felt as if he was invading her soul, thrusting so deeply within her that she would never get him out. Instantly she stiffened, whimpering into his shoulder. She felt his teeth piercing her breast, spreading white-hot heat, sinking possessively into her skin as his body buried itself in hers.
His mind pushed into hers, breaking through every barrier until they were completely one. She felt the heat of her own skin, the exquisite ecstasy of her tight, hot, velvet sheath gripping him, releasing, sliding over him, her blood, hot with life and light, flowing into him, the joy and searing flames, his insatiable hunger and terrible need. She saw the erotic images in his head, the things he would do to her, the things he wanted her to do to him. She saw his iron will, his implacable resolve, his ruthlessness, his merciless, predatory nature. He saw her fears, her modesty, her blind faith in him, her need to run away. He felt the slight discomfort of her body at his thickness and instantly changed his position to accommodate her. He fed her own passion with his, building the fire between them until it raged out of control.
Darius was everywhere she was. In her body, in her mind, in her heart and soul. They shared the same blood. And, God help her, she could deny him nothing. Not when he was rising above her, surging hotly into her, his body slick with sweat, his mouth in a frenzy of hunger and need. It was the most erotic thing she had ever encountered. Tempest didn’t care if she ever returned to herself. She was flying, soaring, sating his terrible hunger for the first time in all his centuries of living.
The sense of power that gave her was incredible. She was in his mind, knew she was giving him sweet agony, molten fire. Knew it raged in him as it did in her. She surrendered to him completely, holding nothing back, her fingernails in his back, her soft cries, pleas for more, in his ear. She wanted this with him, wanted to give him this exquisite torment.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she cradled his head, her body moving with his, faster and harder until she was rippling with pleasure, exploding, fragmenting until he caught her safely in his arms. He lapped his tongue over the pinpricks in her skin, closing the tiny wound his fangs had left. His body clenched and raged for release, burning with a terrible need only she could fill. He was in her mind, and he took control, commanding her to do as he bid, not allowing her to think or know what he was asking.
At the first touch of her mouth on his chest, his body shuddered with the effort for self-control. It had to be. She had to complete the ritual, deliver herself into his keeping for all time. Her tongue tasted his skin, the touch so erotic, his hands pinned her hips that he might bury himself ever deeper, even harder than before. Her teeth teased, scraped, and he heard his own hoarse cry. A thousand years of need. This one time had to be his.
Darius lengthened a fingernail to slash his chest, then caught the back of her head and pressed her to him. Her mouth moved as he had commanded; her hot sheath, slick and velvet soft, tightened in demand, squeezing and kneading until his body clenched and thrust helplessly, mindlessly, aggressively into hers, spilling his seed deep within her, claiming her for all time.
He spoke the ritual words. He needed to say them aloud. Needed to seal her to him, make them one. His need to chant the words was as urgent as the taking of her body had been. It was every bit as primitive and instinctive as the hunger to take her life force into his body and give her his in exchange. “I claim you as my lifemate. I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give to you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life, happiness, and welfare will be cherished and placed above my own for all time. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care.” He murmured the words above her head as he cradled her to him, as his powerful, ancient blood flowed into her body, as his seed exploded into her. The power of the ancient words surrounded her, seeped into her to seal her soul, her mind, and her heart to his, to bind her to him irrevocably.
Chapter Nine
Tempest opened her eyes slowly, drowsily, sexily. Darius smiled down at her, touched his finger gently to her swollen lips, caught a ruby drop of his blood on the pad of his finger, and brought it to his own mouth. She blinked to bring him into focus. Her body was locked with his; she could feel him, thick and heavy, buried deep within the tightness of her core. His smile was lazy and sated, his black eyes holding masculine satisfaction that he had done so much more than simply please her. He looked as if he might start purring over his own prowess.
Tempest found her smile hovering too close to the surface. He was moving with slow, languid strokes that kept heat scorching her body, kept her nipples pressing into the muscles of his chest. The flickering lights from hundreds of candles illuminated the fine sheen of sweat on his skin. His long hair was damp, falling around his face, lending him the look of a pirate. She reached up and gently traced the hard line of his jaw.
Darius captured her hand, brought it to his mouth to kiss, then laced his fingers through hers. He stretched her arms above her head and held them there, leaving her body open and vulnerable to his continuing invasion. She was no longer afraid of him. He had been wild and insatiable, even rough at times, but he had ensured her pleasure before his own. She could read the satisfaction in his eyes, the light in his soul, and she was thankful to be able to bring him relief from his endless, barren existence.
Darius savored the hot, slick wetness of her, the perfection of her satin skin, the silken mane of her hair. The wildness inherent in his nature ran as deep in her. Her passion matched his. She was made for him, and in his deepest heart, his very soul, he knew it absolutely. He bent his head to place a kiss in the tempting hollow of her shoulder. It was unbelievable to him that he was here with her like this, that it was not some dream his mind had created to appease his dying soul.
Where he had been wild and aggressive before, he was slow and gentle now, movin
g with long, sultry strokes, his gaze locked with hers so he could see the pleasure he brought to her on her expressive face. Her eyes clouded with passion; her lips parted as her breath came in little gasps of wonder. She was so beautiful, she destroyed his tranquillity, that absolute calm he had long ago acquired, and she made him as helpless and out of control as a youth. He wanted her for all time. Not the short span of years they would have, but for an eternity. He wanted it all.
Darius closed his mind to that possibility, that temptation, and bent to take her mouth with his, his tongue dueling with hers, sweeping over her teeth, exploring the moist interior, demanding that she do the same to him. He thrilled to the tiniest details. The brightness of her hair, the length of her eyelashes, the curve of her cheek—all an abundance of riches along with the feel of her body surrounding his. Hot velvet gripping him, teasing him.
He felt her tighten around him, her muscles rippling with the intensity of her pleasure, and he allowed the sensations in her mind and body to become his own. He felt the deep ripples begin like an earthquake, building and building until her shattering release. She was making little sounds in her throat, her arms taut as she writhed beneath him, trying to break free from his grip, but he held her and watched and experienced the strength and power of his body joined with hers, the tidal wave ripping through her, fragmenting her mind as the rush came. Only then, still holding her mind firmly with his, did he allow himself to rebuild his own conflagration, so that she could feel the pleasure she gave him.
His body surged more strongly into hers, each stroke harder and longer, going deeper until they were fully one being. He wanted her to know what she did for him, the beauty of her priceless gift. The rush took over, consumed his mind, consumed his body, until every muscle was bursting with need. Still he held her gaze so that she could see the tension on his face, the wildness in his eyes, the hunger and rapture, the sweet agony and ecstasy her body brought to his. He erupted into her, over and over, a volcano of molten seed, of burning fire, and the terrible darkness that haunted his soul. She was dragging him back to the light, and he felt the purity of it as his cries of joy echoed hoarsely throughout the cavern.
Tempest’s legs held him tightly, nearly as possessive as he. Their hearts were beating in the same wild rhythm, their labored breaths matching. He finally released her wrists and lay his head on her breast, even as his elbows held his weight from crushing her. She could feel his tongue lapping at the small beads of sweat on her breasts, and each feathery stroke sent an aftershock rippling through her. She brought her hands down to tangle in the disheveled mane of his hair, to just hold him. They lay like that, their silence speaking more than any words could have.
Darius took their combined scents into his body, the feel of her hot skin, her breast beneath his cheek, the silken strands of her hair against his sensitized skin. Every sensation seemed heightened, seemed to echo through his body and linger there. The taste of her, rich and filled with life, was in his mouth and heart, and for the first time he could ever remember, his terrible craving for hot blood was momentarily sated. He would never again be tempted to make a kill to feel a rush of power, as one so close to turning often was, when he held the ultimate satisfaction in his arms.
He stirred then, a slight frown touching his mouth. “I did not heal you properly.”
Instantly he was off her, leaving her feeling somewhat bereft. She also felt lazy and drowsy, the stifling heat of the cavern and his uninhibited lovemaking wearing her out. “I don’t care. I want to sleep. You can heal me later.” Her wounds no longer hurt, when earlier they had been burning and throbbing. He had successfully introduced her body to other, much more enjoyable sensations.
Darius ignored her sleepy command and lifted her easily into his arms. “I was more than selfish. I should have attended to your discomfort first, before my own.”
Tempest laughed softly at his serious expression. Her fingertip smoothed the hard edge of his mouth in a gentle caress. “Is that what you felt? Discomfort? Hmm. Perhaps I should make you feel that way more often.”
He growled—a warning or assent, she wasn’t certain which—but she laughed at him anyway. “If I felt any more for you, baby, I would go up in flames,” he admitted and padded on bare feet to the steaming pool.
She caught at his neck, scowling at him. “I really don’t like being immersed in boiling water, Darius.”
“It is not boiling. It is the same temperature as a hot tub,” he chided.
She had a death grip on his neck. “It looks boiling to me. I don’t want to go in. And anyway, I never go near hot tubs. Everyone always wants to get naked, and I don’t know anybody that well.”
“We are not wearing clothes now,” he pointed out, wading into the steaming pool. He was trying not to laugh as she scrambled higher into his arms.
“It’s too hot. How can you breathe in here? You know, Darius,” she added seriously, “this is an honest-to-God volcano. Lava could fill up this chamber at any time.” She peered into the depths of the pool. “It’s probably bubbling up through the ground right now. See those bubbles? Lava.”
“What a baby. Put your feet in the water,” he instructed, amusement climbing from his voice to his eyes. Her eyes began to throw off sparks, her temper showing. “I don’t want to go in, Darius.”
“Too bad, baby. It is good for you.” Ruthlessly he lowered her feet into the steaming water.
Tempest tried to jerk her toes away from the hot mineral water, but he lowered her even farther, so that her calves, then her thighs, were immersed. She gasped. “It’s hot, you ape! Let me out!” But the water was already doing its job, soothing the lacerations on her feet, loosening cramped muscles, though she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him so.
His gaze was on the beads of perspiration running between her breasts to her stomach and disappearing beneath the surface of the water. He lowered her until her feet touched bottom and the water reached her waist, so that his hands could find her hips and hold her still for his inspection. He bent his head to the underside of one satiny breast and caught a droplet in his mouth. “Do you have to be so damned beautiful?” he murmured softly.
Her fingers tangled in his hair and dragged his head to her breast so that she could arch into the moist heat of his mouth. The water lapped at her skin. Bubbles burst all around her. Steam rose. “Do you have to be so damned sexy?” she countered, wanting the feel of his mouth feeding erotically on her.
Darius’s hands skimmed over her hips in a light, possessive caress. He wanted to know he could touch her this way, that she was his. He wanted her to touch him. For the first time in all his centuries of existence, he was truly alive. Her soft skin, so like satin, brushed against his body. Her hair, so like silk, feathered over his shoulder, sending heat waves coursing through him.
His mouth wandered lower to find the places where the bird’s talons had pierced her skin. He winced, remembering the feeling of lying beneath the earth, helpless, while she struggled for her life. “You scared the hell out of me,” he told her softly, his tongue bathing the puncture wounds.
Tempest pressed herself closer to his soothing ministrations. “You have a curative agent in your saliva, don’t you?” she asked, suddenly comprehending. He had to. That was how he closed the pinpricks his fangs made in her neck, never leaving evidence behind unless he wanted to brand her. It was how her bruises had healed so fast. Darius. So tender and gentle, carefully healing each laceration, every bruise. “And you must have an anticoagulant in your teeth.” It was a guess, but a fairly safe one.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes moody and unreadable. “I can heal you completely, but you must stay very still and accept what I do.”
She nodded solemnly. He was so beautiful, in a purely masculine way. She loved the hard bones of his face, the deepness and purity of his voice, the rippling of power beneath his skin. His beautiful face now showed intense concentration. He had withdrawn into himself. Tempest found t
he way his hips indented fascinating. He was so physically perfect. Her hands, of their own volition, reached out to touch those smooth indentations.
The feel of his skin beneath her fingers sent flames dancing in her stomach. She explored farther, the palms of her hands sliding over his muscular buttocks. A sound escaped his throat, a soft warning growl, and his hands shackled her wrists, holding her palms against him. “Just what are you doing?”
Her large green eyes stared innocently up into his fathomless black ones. “Touching you.” Her palms pressed closer. “I like touching you.”
“I cannot possibly concentrate if you continue, Tempest.” He meant to reprimand her, but one of her hands had slipped free to explore the hard columns of his thighs. His breath caught in his throat. Her fingers felt so good on his skin, an erotic fantasy began to take over his mind. His sexual needs were far greater than hers.
He was a Carpathian male with a need as elemental as time to take his mate. He had promised himself he would remember that she was human and give her as much space as his nature would permit, but she wasn’t helping him at the moment.
His body hardened with a savage, aching rush of fire that added to the heat of the cavern and the pool. Her hand brushed against him beneath the water, slid the length of him, settled around him like a glove. He pushed against her, craving the feel of her surrounding him. “This will not help my concentration,” he managed to point out.
“Really? And I thought you were so good at blocking out all sorts of things, Darius,” she teased, exploring him more fully, more boldly.
He bent his head to the hollow of her shoulder, his teeth scraping roughly. Beneath the steaming water, his hand slid to the junction between her thighs. Tempest accommodated him, pushing against his palm. His fingers slid into her, urging her to climb with him. “I want you to need me the way I need you,” he whispered against her throat.
Dark Fire (Dark Series - book 6) Page 16
