Dark Song

by Christine Feehan

  He moved cautiously into a sitting position. She was merged very firmly in his mind and knew his cock was full and aching. He had visions of her bent over the railing, or on her hands and knees taking him hard and fast into her body, or her kneeling in front of him, his cock stretching her lips, yet he gave her no instructions. Asked nothing of her. Gave her no commands. He ached, and yet he didn’t ask or demand relief from her. That instantly took away all the pleasure she’d received.

  She sat up slowly and scooted a little away from him, dropping her gaze from the length and girth of his cock. There were pearly drops on the broad head of it that she longed to taste, but he wasn’t giving her that opportunity, although she saw so clearly in his head that he wanted those things from her.

  “Elisabeta?” His voice was very gentle. “What is it? Did you not enjoy what we just shared together?”

  She moistened her lips. “You know I did.” She detested that he was forcing her to speak aloud. She was merged with him, which meant he could read her as easily as she could read him.

  “I want you to tell me why you no longer feel the pleasure you felt moments ago.”

  “You know why.” She was horrified that she sounded mutinous. There was silence. She knew instantly that he had issued her a command couched in nicer terms. He had said he wanted her to tell him. He had still decreed she tell him. She took a deep breath. “I am in your mind and can tell you are in need. I would very much like to learn how to please you.”

  “That lesson is for another rising. This was for your pleasure, for you to learn about your body and the pleasure I can bring to you.”

  His voice said it all. He didn’t expect her to argue with him. There was even dismissal in his mind, and it hurt. Really hurt. She felt as if he was rejecting her as a person. As a lifemate. As a lover.

  “Piŋe sarnanak.” His gentle voice was nearly her undoing. “Look at me.”

  She wanted to disobey him, but she couldn’t. She forced her lashes up and met his eyes. The color had gone from that blue-silver to more of a darker iron ringed with rust.

  “I do not understand why you will not allow me to see to your needs. I wish to serve you, to make you happy. Your cock is full and aching. I want to learn how to use my mouth to bring you to happiness the way you did me. Or my body the way I see in your mind.”

  “Women no longer have to serve their men, Elisabeta. This is a modern world and women choose when they wish to have sex with their men and when they want to accommodate them. The men do not do the choosing.”

  His voice roughened, turned almost harsh, and she knew from being merged with him that her suggestions had made his cock even fuller and more demanding than it had been. The need to serve him was nearly a physical pain she couldn’t stop.

  “I do not understand.” There were tears in her voice. Tears in her mind. But she didn’t shed them. They weren’t in her eyes, although she wanted to weep forever. “You said I did not have to be like the other women and yet you are trying to make me into one of them. I need to serve you. It makes me happy. It makes me feel fulfilled. I cannot contribute any other way to our relationship. That is who I am and yet you do not want that person. You want one of the more modern women like Julija or Lorraine. I will never—ever—be modern, nor do I want to be. I would try for you, but I know it is not in me and I would fail you.”

  Ferro’s arms swept around her and he pulled her tight into his body, at once offering her comfort. “The last thing I want is for you to be a modern woman, Elisabeta.”

  There was no denying the sincerity in his voice.

  “Then I do not understand what you are trying to make me become.”

  “I want you to have the opportunity to choose for yourself to grow into what you want to be. Over time, being around other women, you will learn things from them, and you will see that a life with me will not make you happy. I want you to have all the choices that were taken from you from the time you were a young girl. You deserve to be able to have every option available to you.”

  Elisabeta lifted her chin in the air, her gaze fully meeting his. Challenging what he’d said to her. He sounded sincere. He said lifemates didn’t lie and that she could hear lies if they did. She heard no such thing. Then he wouldn’t, either.

  “I want to be able to make you happy, Ferro. To see to your every need, almost before you know what you need. That would make me happy. When your cock is full and aching and I can feel it in your mind, that need to have my mouth around you, or have you buried deep in my body, that is what I need to do for you. It isn’t just a want. That is my happiness. That is what makes me feel good about myself. That might not be what other women feel good about, but knowing I make you happy is what makes me feel important and confident. More, my body aches for yours. I want to know of these things I see in your mind and I want them with you. If I really get to make a choice, my choice is to have you teach me to please you. That would be my choice.”

  Ferro groaned, the sound breaking from him as if he were really being torn in two. “Woman, you are making this difficult for me. If you give me everything I could ever ask for in my lifemate and then, as time passes and you prefer to be a modern woman, and I cannot be a modern man, I will return alone to the monastery a broken and extremely dangerous being. You see the danger, do you not?”

  “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 red-hot 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 mass
ive 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 tugged, 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 beaut
iful 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.