She shook her head, but complied, placing one foot on either side of his legs. He caught her hips and urged her down right over the top of him, so that she was crouched just above his lap. Her eyes stared into his.
“That’s my duty? To please you?” she echoed, amusement warring with her rising sensuality. She loved the feel of his hands, the look in his eyes. Already she could feel the heat of his thick erection pressing at her dripping entrance.
“Your only duty,” he emphasized.
His hair was thick, a wolf’s pelt, long and falling around him. His chest was heavy with defined muscle, his face carved and beautifully masculine. She loved the look of him, the strength of him and the stamp of absolute authority he wore so easily.
“Well then, if that’s my only duty, I’d better be excellent at it,” she replied, and sank down right over him, completely sheathing him, watching the way his hooded eyes went completely wolf.
He filled her, stretching her all over again, insisting her tight muscles give way for his intrusion. She seated herself on his lap, adjusting first one way and then the other, pleased to see the breath hiss out of him each time she made a small movement.
“I’m not certain how best to please you,” she murmured, lifting her hips slowly and then riding him down even more slowly. “Like this? Does this do anything for your pleasure, sir?”
His fingers dug into her hips, but he let her take control. “I think you’re on the right track.”
Her eyebrow went up. “You think? Hmmm, perhaps you’d like this better?” She rose again, her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she slowly made little circles with her hips, her muscles tightening, clamping down as she spiraled down, increasing the friction on his sensitive shaft.
He swallowed, the breath slamming out of his lungs in a long groan of sheer pleasure. “That’s it, that’s what I want, but a little faster.” His hands guided her into a faster rhythm. His voice turned hoarse and raw. “A little harder.”
Branislava laughed softly, throwing her head back, letting the fiery sensations take her. She rose again, riding him now, a harder, faster rhythm, just as he preferred.
“This is where you belong,” he declared. “Me, inside of you. You surrounding me. Locked together just like this.”
She felt like she belonged. She loved the way his body impaled hers, stretching her so deliciously, just skimming that edge of pain, but not quite, just sheer pleasure streaking through her body with every stroke.
He began to move her body with his enormous strength as his breath hissed out of his lungs, his hands urgent and hard, bringing her body up and down so that her ride was blissfully wild. Branislava closed her eyes, and let her head fall back, let his harsh pace consume her, take her to another realm, where there was only the two of them. Only this.
There was a sense of total belonging, not imprisonment. She craved him, desired him and even needed him, but there was such an awareness of freedom. He made her feel as if she could soar through the skies unfettered, at any time. He made her feel beautiful and sexy. He made her feel no other woman would ever do for him—only her.
His body moved in hers and a surge of electricity charged through her so that every nerve ending burst into life. Her world narrowed until there was only Zev and the way they fit together, the way he moved like a piston, the hard pace that sent streaks of fire rushing through her bloodstream and centering in her deepest core.
Zev urged her into a wilder, faster pace, his hands hard on her hips, as he thrust into her over and over. She rode him with abandon, floating in a dream world of pure feeling. Once again the ground beneath them heated as if the combination of the two of them drew magma up from the very depths. Her skin grew hot, as did his, and around them the mist glowed that strange red orange.
“How can you be so scorching hot?” he asked. “Silken fire gripping me in a tight fist.”
She reveled in the wonder and raw desire in his voice. She loved that she made him feel this way, the same amazing way he made her feel. She rode him at a furious, fiery pace, and when he leaned forward to lick at her breast, the fire that had been building and building, crowned, exploding through her with tremendous force, taking him with her.
For a moment the edges around her vision went red with flames. She felt them licking over her skin like a thousand hot tongues. She circled his neck with her arms and leaned against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it, Zev, but when I’m with you like this, every bad thing in my life is gone. You wipe it away, so that for these precious moments, I’m a clean slate and the only thing written there is your name.”
“That’s an extraordinary thing to say to me,” Zev said. “Thank you.”
She turned her face into his neck. “I thought, once we were out of the ice caves, that we would never have to deal with anything as evil as Xavier ever again.”
Zev’s hand slid up her back, pressing her closer to him. There was intimacy in his touch, but in a comforting way. His fingers reached the nape of her neck and began a slow massage. He didn’t say anything, and she was grateful. It was important to tell him the things she needed to while she had the chance.
“I’m not naïve. I know the problems facing our people, so I was prepared for hard times, although a war with the Lycans might have been more than I ever considered. Still, I know I could handle it.”
Branislava rubbed her face back and forth in the warm space between his neck and shoulder. He smelled masculine and strong and right then, when her fears began to resurface, she needed him.
“Mage-shadowing is truly evil, Zev. The mage can access his victim at any time and force compliance. Often the victim is worn down over time, especially if their will is strong, as in the case of my nephew, Razvan, until they’re weak and confused. The mage strikes them then and can force them to do things completely against everything they believe in.”
“I don’t understand the difference between a splinter and a shadow.”
“Xavier used a splinter of himself in Razvan so that he was living inside of Razvan’s body, but a shadow is an actual portal for the mage to travel through. The splinter can leave the body at any time and seek another host. Few leave a splinter of themselves behind for any length of time because there is a danger to the maker, should the splinter be found and destroyed. A shadow is a doorway to be accessed at any time. The risk of discovery is very small and one can build in all sorts of traps.”
Branislava slowly sat up. A small shiver went through her body when the action caused friction against her most sensitive spot. “I’d much rather stay here for the rest of the night with you, locked together like this, but we have to go back.”
He sighed and ran his hand down the back of her head, caressing the silky braid. “Fen is having trouble keeping Tatijana from looking for you,” he admitted. “She wanted to follow you and make certain you were all right.”