Dark Song

by Feehan, Christine

  “Ferro, you are my lifemate. My heart and soul. I will never be much different than I am now other than, I hope, more confident in myself and you. I wish to be with you and make you happy. Teach me how to do these things for you. Teach me to be your woman, the one you prefer me to be.”

  “I want you to be yourself, Elisabeta.”

  “I do not know who I am, other than that it is in me to bring you peace and that I need to see you happy at every level.”

  His hand stroked caresses down the back of her head. “You are certain this is what you want above all else, minan piŋe sarnanak? You can take the time to find out who you are. Once your mouth is on my cock or it is in your body, I will not be able to resist instructing you to keep me happy every rising, perhaps more than once.”

  She loved his hands in her hair and the way he sought to warn her of his intentions should she decide to continue on her set course of action. Merged within his mind, it would be impossible for her to step back. Already he was consumed with erotic images. His breathing had changed. His body was harder than ever. She had done that, just with her conversation. She loved feeling as if she had power when her Carpathian ancient was considered by so many to be so dangerous.

  “More than anything, isäntä.” Deliberately, she called him “master of the house.” He was “strong heart” to her. Lifemate. Sívamet. Beloved. But she wanted to honor him with “master” so he would know she meant what she said.

  He tipped her chin up and bent to kiss her. Gently at first. So gently. Then his arm locked around her back and his lips roughened, his tongue gliding into her mouth, stroking. Dueling. Flames erupted all over again. All at once her body felt on fire, her veins feeling as if he had poured redhot magma into them and that liquid flowed straight to her center, creating a firestorm of absolute need.

  Lifting his head, he put one hand on her shoulder, creating pressure until she dropped to her knees in front of him. He stroked his hands over her face, her jaw and chin. “The instructions will be in images in my head. You will follow them. I will tell you when I want you to do something different. If you are frightened, you are to tell me immediately. If you do not like something, you tell me immediately. That is a command, piŋe sarnanak. Is that understood?”

  “Yes.” Kneeling before him, she thought his cock looked enormous and intimidating, but so gorgeous. So much a part of him as a male. Her heart beat too fast, but she was determined to learn everything she could in this first lesson. She wanted this more than anything she had ever wanted, and kneeling on the fur under the stars, between the twin columns of his massive thighs, made her feel as if she belonged to him. She needed that feeling as much as she needed to breathe.

  She could already see the pleasure she was bringing to him just by the submissive pose, her naked body, her breasts with her hard nipples showing him she was excited. Instinctively she widened her knees so he could see that between her legs, her liquid desire glistened at the mere thought of him allowing her to do this for him. She wanted him to see the signs on her body as well as read them in her mind.

  Tentatively she reached out and lightly cupped his heavy sac. It was much softer than she’d expected. She stroked caresses lightly over him and then followed the images in his head. Leaning in, she stroked her tongue over the velvet folds. He reacted with a little shudder of pleasure.

  “That is good, Elisabeta. Feels very good.” His hands dropped to her head.

  Encouraged, she took her time exploring, lapping at him, tasting and gently sucking him into the warmth of her mouth, jiggling gently with her fingers and then tracing her way up to his thick shaft.

  It seemed from the images in his head that the wetter his cock, the better, so she took her time with that as well, using her tongue to get the thick girth as wet as possible while learning the shape and heaviness of the length of him. His breathing had gone nearly labored and she felt the difference in him, as if a great, aggressive beast were rising in him. That was both exhilarating and intimidating. Her tongue found the drops leaking from the broad, velvety head, and just as his blood was an aphrodisiac and she couldn’t get enough, so was the taste of his essence. He had claimed that her body was his, and she felt the same ownership of his.

  Her mouth closed over him, feeling the weight of him, the heat of him on her tongue. At the same time, she heard his roar of thunder in his mind and felt the burst of fire streaking through his body. Immediately she tightened her mouth, sucking strongly, wanting to intensify the feeling for him. Her tongue began a slow dance up and down his shaft as she took turns setting different rhythms, sucking and then stroking and caressing with her tongue. Each time she tried to take him a little deeper in her mouth to get more of him wetter, to get more of him to feel the snug, hot tunnel.

  His hands fisted on either side of her hair, pulling her head back almost aggressively, and the little bite on her scalp only served to send her own body into a kind of unexpected meltdown. Her nipples felt like twin flames, her breasts felt swollen and achy. Between her legs was a living fire, one she doubted could ever be put out, but it didn’t matter to her. The only thing in her mind was making Ferro feel good. Not good. Great. Not even great. She wanted him to feel the way he’d made her feel.

  She gave herself up to that purpose, putting all thoughts of herself aside. She devoted every touch, every stroke of her tongue and mouth, her lips and hands, to his desire alone. She concentrated on the images in his mind, on the reactions of his body, on the pleasure she felt in their merged minds. His rising lust felt like a reward. When his hips began to thrust shallowly and his fists held her head still, happiness burst through her.

  His hips jerked and bucked. He actually growled, the sound harsh, sending shivers of excitement down her spine. Each thrust of his hips sent his cock deeper, filling her mouth so that for a moment she couldn’t breathe, and her heart pounded, her eyes burned, but the burning pleasure in his mind and body overrode her own discomfort. Her own body reacted to the fierce needs of his. She could feel his lungs burning for air. She moaned around his shaft and the vibrations drove him nearly insane, every nerve ending centering on his cock in the tight, scorching cauldron of her mouth.

  If we continue, I will spill my seed down your throat. You would have to swallow all of it and it would be an enormous amount.

  His voice, in her mind, was hoarse with need and hunger. She didn’t need to ask him if this would bring him pleasure because she knew it would; she could feel it in his mind. He wanted it, but would never ask her for it. She wanted all of his essence. It belonged to her in the way his blood did. If that made her primitive and old-fashioned, she didn’t care. He tasted delicious and she wanted all of him.

  Please. She lifted her lashes, looking up at him to show him her eyes just in case he couldn’t read her mind through the passionate chaos of his.

  He didn’t wait, or better yet, he couldn’t. He took a tighter grip in her hair and his hips thrust into her, pressing his cock deeper into her mouth. His girth stretched her lips to accommodate his size, but it felt sensual, erotic and so perfect to her. The weight of him was heavy on her tongue. The heat of him seemed to burn her mouth. He felt like a living flame. She felt the boiling in his velvety sac as his balls tightened to the point of near pain. The scorching burn rose as he neared his fiery explosion.

  Look at me. Do not close your eyes. Stay merged with me so you feel what you do to me.

  The fire was moving through him, through her, like magma in a volcano. She felt the thrill in him, the elation, the domination and pride. The love wrapping her up in safe arms even as he couldn’t stop the thrusts of his hips that seemed to push deeper into her mouth as his cock grew heavier and hotter, expanded wider until she was so filled with him he was everywhere, like that fire deep inside. And then he was pouring down her throat, jet after jet of his essence she tried to keep up with. So much. So good. All for her.

  Each time her lashes started to drift down, his fists tightened in her hair and he tug
ged, forcing her head up so she stared directly into his fierce, claiming gaze.

  I want you to look at me. See me, Elisabeta. See what you do to me. See what you mean to me. What a gift you are to me.

  She felt tears burning behind her eyes. Not because his cock was so large and stretched her ability to take him in her mouth. Or that his essence poured down her throat in such a thick, hot torrent that she could barely swallow fast enough to keep up. It was that look of adoration on his face. The soft look in his eyes she knew had never been there for anyone else. Just her. He worried she would not want him, yet how could she not? He towered over her, strong, frightening to the rest of the world, but giving her this—his vulnerability. Letting her see that she was his world and what she meant to him.

  Never think that you are not cherished. Or that you have no value. No one has ever cared for me so selflessly the way that you have.

  Ferro slowly withdrew his cock from her mouth, the weight of him sliding sensuously over her lips, all the while his nearly silver gaze blazing possessively down into hers. She sank back onto her heels, staring up at him, unable to look away, drowning in her own desire for him, drenched in her need of him. Sensual hunger beat at her now and she knew it wasn’t his alone. Hers was every bit as strong. He had awakened a need in her she didn’t want to stop. She tasted him on her lips. In her mouth. Down her throat. She wanted to hold this moment to her forever.

  She had given Ferro the greatest pleasure he’d ever experienced, just as he had done for her. She had done that for him and she wanted to do it again and again because in doing so, she found there hadn’t been one moment of fear. She’d been totally focused on him, only on him, and she’d refused to allow anything else in to mar this new and beautiful experience between them. She had felt as if he belonged to her and they were in their own world together.

  Ferro’s hand framed the side of her face, his thumb sliding gently along her jaw, easing away a soreness she hadn’t realized had been there. “You are a treasure beyond any price, piŋe sarnanak. I had studied the erotic arts in the hopes of one day pleasing my lifemate, but there is no way to experience such a thing, and certainly not when my emotions are as passionately wrapped up with the sexual act as they are with you.”

  That pleased her. His thumb slid from tracing along her jaw to strumming over her lower lip. “You have so much passion in you, Elisabeta. So much giving. You are so willing to please me.”

  She kept her gaze glued to his face. He sounded brooding. Moody. He looked it, too. Those beautiful eyes had gone from the silver-blue to iron-rust, and his mind was closed off and once more sorrowful. This time, she was certain she knew his musings. He still believed that she would grow out of her need for one such as her ancient lifemate. She knew better. She also knew that as the centuries had changed them both, so would this journey they were embarking on together.

  “You will obey me in this, sívamet. When you have needs, or you have hungers, you are to ask for what you want of me. Do you understand?” He waited.

  Elisabeta nodded. “Of course, Ferro.”

  His thumb continued back and forth again over her lips in a mesmerizing slide. “I do not want you to meet my needs at the expense of your own. Is that understood?”

  She frowned, trying to comprehend what he meant. “When I meet your needs, mine are met as well.”

  He shook his head. “You are happy and content in that you pleased me. You are more confident as a woman and as my lifemate, both good things. You even felt powerful that you could make an ancient warrior feel the things you made me feel, but your body screams for mine. You are now ignoring your own needs, Elisabeta. Slide your hand down your belly and curl your fingers between your legs. I want you to feel your dampness.”

  She frowned, unsure what he meant. He knelt behind her, pressing close to her, wrapping his arms around her. She didn’t really have to touch her sensitive skin to react; his words alone made tension coil tightly in her. That didn’t stop her from wanting to obey him. She placed her hand on her belly a bit tentatively, looking back at him for approval to see if she was doing what he wanted. He wrapped his fingers around hers and gently guided her palm down her belly, and then skimmed them over her mound. Her breath caught in her throat as little sparks of electricity seemed to dance all over her skin.

  Elisabeta let her weight rest against his body. It had become one of her favorite positions and she had begun to feel at ease with him so close to her. As he moved her fingers over her clit, he circled and then flicked the inflamed, very sensitive bud. Her entire feminine sheath clenched. Spasmed. The tension coiled tighter. Deliberately, he curled two of her fingers into her slick entrance.

  Ferro’s breath was warm in her ear. “That is you, needing me. You cannot neglect your needs, sívamet. It is just as important to me to keep you happy as it is for you to keep me happy.”

  His teeth tugged on her earlobe. His fingers began a slow, steady assault on her senses, using her own hand, using his. His thumb brushed her clit. He flicked hard and then brushed the sensitive bud, all the while building and building that tidal wave inside her until her body shook with tremors, and the only things holding her up were his powerful arms and the support of his body. Then he dropped his face into her shoulder and nuzzled there for a long, heart-stopping moment, his teeth scraping as his fingers plunged and receded deep inside her.

  He bit down, at the same time flicking her clit with his thumb. The sting of his teeth combined with the tap of his thumb and the surging of his fingers drove her right over the edge. She heard her own keening cry. Her head fell back against his chest as the waves raced through her, rippling strongly, a million stars bursting behind her eyes as the orgasm rushed through her.

  Ferro held her until it subsided and then turned her gently in his arms to allow her to bury her face against his chest. His palm stroked the back of her head, calming her, waiting for her heart to slow to the rhythm of his.

  “That is what I mean, piŋe sarnanak. Your needs are every bit as important as mine. Do you understand now?”

  “Yes.” She did, and she was very much on the same page about taking care of her needs as well as his.

  “There is much more I will show you in future risings.” He caught her chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking straight into his eyes. “As you come to trust in your lifemate more and more, we will build on these lessons.”

  Ferro, we have need of you and Elisabeta now. Dragomir and Josef are in heated battle. We need Elisabeta to calm Dragomir down. Gary reached out to him.

  Merged as they were, Elisabeta heard the healer call out to Ferro. Ferro swore in the Carpathian language under his breath. O jelä peje terád, healer, we are busy at the moment.

  Frowning, Ferro helped her to her feet. It was very clear he wasn’t happy at the intrusion, and that gave her some satisfaction. Telling the resident healer “sun scorch you” was considered very bad diplomacy, although apparently Ferro had never been considered diplomatic. Nevertheless, trepidation crept in. If they left the safety of their home, she would once again be exposed in a way she didn’t want to be.

  Ferro waved his hand to clothe both of them. He chose a modern dress for her, but again, one that fell to her ankles. This was also formfitting, a teal color he particularly liked. He had certain colors that appealed to him. She knew he chose the more formfitting dresses because he wanted her to get used to the idea that her figure was pleasing to him. He thought she was beautiful. He wanted her to feel beautiful and to move with confidence among the other women.

  Dragomir has a lifemate. He does not need Elisabeta to stop him from turning. She knew Ferro didn’t want to put more pressure on her than she already had. Each rising he hoped to practice the small things she’d worked on the rising before and add new ones. She doesn’t need to continually be thrust into the drama of Tariq’s insistence on the training of computer skills to everyone in the compound. She has enough things to worry about.

  It gave her a
secret little thrill that he was looking out for her, so much so that he would put her needs before his brethren. She hugged that knowledge to herself, even though she had the sinking feeling that they would have to go. Knowing he didn’t want to made it easier.

  She knew from being in his mind that Ferro hoped to introduce her to Emeline, Dragomir’s lifemate, this rising. Once he did, he wanted her to be able to sit with all three of the women without him, even if just for a few minutes, and see if she could do so without summoning Sergey. She didn’t want him to leave her, even for a few moments, and take the chance of endangering the other women, no matter that he had assured her that even with her summoning Sergey, the vampire could no longer send his worm from the netherworld.

  I believe this is necessary, Ferro, or I would not ask this of you, Gary said.

  He was asking it of Elisabeta, but Ferro wasn’t going to point out to the ancient healer what he already knew.

  “I am sorry, minan piŋe sarnanak, it seems that once again, your gifts might be needed.”

  Elisabeta wrapped her arm around his waist and nodded, uncertain what to think. No matter what, if Ferro asked it of her, or commanded it—which to her was the same—she would go.

  9

  As the hues of the sky, shift upon the shore;

  The reds once gray, a spectrum once more.

  What went wrong this time?” Ferro asked Gary. “Surely Dragomir didn’t throw a tantrum the way Sandu did.” “I do not throw tantrums,” Sandu denied with great dignity. “Dragomir, however, has long been jealous that down through the ages no one has sung his praises over the campfires. He most likely was bemoaning the fact, and young Josef could no longer listen. I believe it was the young Carpathian who flung the tablet at him.”