He began to glide. Slow. Easy. His hands slid to her breasts, kneading. Massaging. Taking possession of her nipples, rough. Gentle. Never setting a pattern. Each tug or roll rewarded him with a surge of liquid heat. Her hands were in his hair, and he loved the feel of her fingers there, moving through the strands. He loved the way she cradled him as he fed.
With a languid laziness, he swept his tongue over the twin pinpricks and then set his mouth there, marking her further. She would have his mark all over her body. Everywhere. And she would feel him everywhere. On her skin. Under her skin. In her blood. In her bones. Deep inside her most feminine core. He would be there with every breath she drew. Every step she took. Every move she made. He would be inside of her.
He lifted his head slowly, continuing to move in her. She still wore a dazed look, as if she couldn’t quite believe what happened. He felt alive. Exhilarated. Complete. He should have been sated, but he knew that if that were ever the case, it would be short-lived and very temporary with her close to him. He wanted to live inside her.
“I wasn’t fighting you,” she whispered, almost shyly. “I’m sorry I made you think that I was.”
Her hips moved gently, rising to meet him. She was every bit as insatiable as he was. His match. He took his weight from her, planting a hand on either side of her so he could continue gliding in and out of her hot, welcoming haven.
“It was too much. Too fast. I couldn’t process what was happening to my body.”
“Did I hurt you?” He bent his head to the temptation of her breast, capturing a nipple and drawing it into the heat of his mouth. His teeth tugged and his tongue laved before he let his prize go.
She gasped, and there was his instant reward, all that hot, slick honey bathing his cock while her body clamped down around his. Yes. She was definitely his lifemate. She liked it rough. She came apart for rough. He wasn’t civilized and he doubted he ever would be. He’d been too long living on the brink of darkness, part animal, part savage and part demon. He was never going to be tame.
Gabrielle shook her head. “It was intense and it scared me.”
He didn’t let her gaze slide away from his. Waiting.
She bit her lip. “Sometimes it bordered on pain, but then . . .” She trailed off, a soft rose creeping into her face.
“You liked it,” he encouraged. “Kessake, in this, in all things, you have to be honest with me. We are going to spend eternity together. There is going to be a lot of this.” He took a moment to savor the feeling of her body surrounding his while he moved inside of her. “I need to know what pleases you. You need to know what pleases me.”
“I don’t understand this. Any of this.” Tears suddenly swam in her eyes.
“Kessake.” He whispered it. His name for her. Little cat. She’d scratched the hell out of him with her nails. Marking him. Scoring his chest and back. Loving what he was doing to her. Now she had tears in her eyes.
Her hands tightened around him and she circled his hips with her legs, hooking her ankles, wrapping herself around him. He knew she was unconsciously seeking assurance from him. He slid one arm around her back, half lifting her. Holding her to him. “Talk to me,” he ordered softly.
Her body trembled. He picked up his pace, moving deeper into her. Filling her. He was talking to her with his body. Trying to tell her she was safe. They both were. They had completed the bond and there was no danger that he would lose his soul to darkness.
“Gabrielle.”
“What does kessake mean?”
Her breath had turned ragged. Her eyes stayed on his and he liked the look there. He had put that there. Soft. Dazed. The tears still close, but he held them at bay with the easy, loving glide of his body. He gave that to her because she needed care. He’d been rough. He could see the evidence of his hands and mouth on her silky skin. He could see a trickle of blood mixed with his seed on her thighs. She needed gentle.
“It means little cat.” He could see the tension coiling in her right there in her eyes. He heard it in her breathing.
“You call me little cat?”
He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to concentrate on feeling. Pure feeling. “Hold tight,” he ordered abruptly.
Gabrielle obediently tightened her arms and legs around him. He liked that she kept to her word and obeyed when he told her to do something. It was necessary that she learn obedience right away. He wouldn’t tolerate his woman looking at other men, and clearly she had something wrong with her that she had allowed herself to become involved with another Carpathian male. He would keep her away from other men until she learned her place was at his side. In any case, no one had argued with him, not in a thousand years. He was too much the predator and one look at him was enough to convince even the dullest dolt of the fact.
Still, he wanted a woman who would speak her mind. Just not until he was certain she wasn’t going to try to run off with another man. She had a fiery temper. That might actually be fun when he was feeling tolerant. After sex. He was feeling pretty damned tolerant right at that moment.
Shifting his hands to the carpet, he began to move in her the way he wanted. Deeper. Finding that sweet spot that took her breath completely and had her making those little noises in her throat he was certain she didn’t notice, but he did. He wanted to hear those sounds for the rest of his life. And he wanted it to be a long life with her.
“You are so peje hot, so peje tight I can barely stand it.” His voice sounded harsh, a groan more than words. He felt the shiver that went through her body. She was very receptive to him. His voice. His touch. His kiss. His cock. He had no idea a lifemate could be such a miracle.
He allowed himself to get lost in her body. Finding the perfect rhythm, building the tension in her so that he felt it coiling tighter and tighter. Switching from hard and deep to slow and easy just when she was close and he could feel her body gathering itself. Her soft cries sounded like music to him.
He loved the way her cries vibrated right through his cock. Her ragged breathing played counterpoint to the little keening and purring that came from her throat with each thrust. He knew this woman was worth having. Worth keeping. No matter that she didn’t understand duty, he could teach her that. She was afraid of him. She didn’t seem to know anything about lifemates and she wouldn’t know that he wouldn’t really hurt her. She’d learn loyalty from a strict master.
He kissed her again, this time more gently, taking his time, feeling her response. She followed his lead. She gave him more when he demanded it and she was good, feeding the fire storming through his body. Aleksei knew he was going to enjoy teaching her, training her, instructing her on what a lifemate should be.
He was a little shocked he had any gentleness in him, any tenderness, but he felt both toward her, in spite of the fact that she’d betrayed him with another man. She’d come to him, terrified. He didn’t have to be in her mind to feel the terror coming off her in waves, but she had done it, not knowing if he would kill her or not. He had that right. No Carpathian woman should have done what she did. At the very gates. In front of the other ancients. Honorable men who were hanging on by a thread. She could very well have tipped him and all of them right over the edge.