“When a Carpathian male has killed too often, has seen too much violence, and has lived in darkness, the whisper of temptation to feel, just for a moment, becomes overwhelming. One only needs to kill while feeding. To make that choice. After a thousand years of darkness and no emotion, that temptation, perversely, becomes the only thing left to us.”
She made a soft sound of distress as if she’d never considered how difficult an ancient’s life could be. Her mouth smoothed over his flat belly, her tongue tracing the muscles so defined there in his abdomen. Her hands went to his hips, tracing the bones, the contours. Taking her time. Killing him.
He tried to concentrate. To give her something of himself. “Still, that is not the worst. When more centuries pass, even that is gone. There is only darkness and the demon inside us embracing that darkness. So close. We can no longer afford to hunt the vampire and kill because that kill would send us into a realm we dare not go, not after acquiring the skills and knowledge we have.”
Her teeth scraped along his hip bone. The air left his lungs in a rush. Kessake. He couldn’t help breathing his endearment into her mind. She had to get serious soon or he wouldn’t be able to give her this. Need crawled through him until he wanted to pound his body into hers. To just stay there in that exquisite paradise he had claimed the last rising.
“Tell me more,” she whispered against his thigh. Her breath was warm. Her hands stroked. One cupped his heavy sac and simply held him.
“We came here. Nine of us. We could not meet the dawn because it felt wrong. We had lived honorably. We fought. We needed to go out fighting, but the cost was too high to risk that. So we made this place our home. Fane guards the gates and brings blood when we need more than what we give one another. He is dark, but nowhere near the rest of us. It is his duty to make certain we stay strong. Should one of us fall, he will be the one to destroy the fallen.”
She made a sound and at the same time, wrapped her fist around the base of his cock. The sound vibrated straight through his body. Every single peje cell.
“Use your mouth to get me wet and slick, Gabrielle,” he instructed, trying not to clench his teeth. Her hand rolled the velvet sac gently. He felt the brush of her tongue. A barely there sweep that made his cock jump. He forced himself to keep talking to her. “We came up with the idea of etching our vows into our bodies. Something tangible. Something we could see and feel on one another.”
Her tongue tasted him. A tentative lick. It curled around the underside of the sensitive crown. His hips nearly came off the ground.
“O jelä peje terád, emni. In case, Gabrielle, you do not understand the ancient language,” he bit out, his hands fisting in her silken hair, “that means, ‘sun scorch you, woman.’ Get on with it.”
For some insane reason, when she’d been so terrified of him, she didn’t seem in the least bit afraid of his outburst. He actually felt her smile as her tongue worked up and down his shaft. “I take it you like this.”
“Woman.” He made it a threat, and tugged on her hair to force her head exactly where he needed it.
Her mouth engulfed him. Took him into heat and fire. Wrapped him up in a place he knew he would need for all time. She could use her mouth and she did. Instincts kicked in, but it was more than that. She wanted this for him. She gave him this. She did it for him, not for herself. He felt the difference, and he knew it was a gift with no strings.
His lifemate. The woman he had come close to killing. He knew he couldn’t have done it, but the thought had been there. Now, she was giving him such beauty, such perfection, taking him to a place he’d never been. His wildcat. He let her set the pace. Let her take him close. So close he skated on the very edge of his control. So close his hips thrust into her mouth. So close he ground himself deep and held himself there for a few moments of absolute bliss.
“Come here.”
She didn’t stop. She kept working him. He reached down and caught her under her arms, so close to losing control he was afraid he would fill her mouth when he wanted to fill her body.
“I said, come here,” he snapped, dragging her up his body.
He rolled her under him, caught her thighs and jerked them apart. He took one moment to lean down and take a taste. Her body bucked. She was delicious. His. All of that was his. He shoved her legs over his shoulders, braced himself on his hands and thrust into her. Hard. Deep. Rough.
She was tight, as if he hadn’t already stretched and opened her. He could barely force his cock inside her narrow tunnel. He groaned with the effort. With how good the scorching heat was. How great the friction was. Her little mewling cries and ragged breathing added to the fire engulfing him. He withdrew and her tight muscles grasped and clung, clamped down around him in a stranglehold that felt like heaven.
He looked at her face, the beauty there, all feminine. Soft, perfect skin. Her large eyes, framed with far too long and thick black lashes. Like the silk of her hair. All that hair that he loved feeling against his body.
“This dawn, kessake, I want to lie with you in the earth, your head in my lap. Your hair falling across my hips, my cock and my thighs. I want to wake up feeling that, feeling what is mine surrounding me.”
The moment he began speaking, her gaze had jumped to his and clung there. His admitted need fed the fire in her. He knew because he felt the sudden rush of fiery liquid bathing his cock, and saw the hunger in her eyes build all the more.
“You are going to give that to me.” He made it a statement, an order, because he could see that she would. She took his breath. His mind. She was taking his heart. Stealing it a little piece at a time. He didn’t want that, not with her, not until he knew she would be faithful to him. Loyal to him.
“Don’t,” she said softly. “Please don’t. You said not to bring him here with us and you’re doing it.”
He realized his hold on her had gone from rough to brutal. His hips had gone savage, driving deep and hard, over and over like a piston. She hadn’t fought him or tried to escape; instead, she lifted her hips to meet each thrust, helping him to go even deeper. Her hand touched his face, fingers smoothing the fury from his features.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he bit out between his teeth.
She didn’t hesitate. “You, Aleksei. I belong to you.”
“Who do I belong to?” he demanded, his body jolting hers with every deep stroke.
Her eyes softened. Moved over his face. There was a hint of possession in her soft features. A hint that liked where she belonged even if she didn’t know it yet. Again she didn’t hesitate. “Me. Aleksei, you belong to me.”
His woman was mixed up, but she was willing to be straightened out. He had to let it go. He wasn’t the kind of man to let another poaching on his territory go, but it had to be done. He just hadn’t figured out how yet. He wanted to kill Gary Daratrazanoff. He wanted to have a few words with the reigning prince about what he should have done and what his mistake had cost all of them. Most of all he wanted to believe the woman he had his cock buried so deeply in. Surrounding him with heaven.