gently, into the hot, wet core of her. At once her small muscle clamped around him, gripped with hot, slick velvet. She shuddered in reaction and pushed against his hand, needing him deeper inside her. His tongue tasted her. It was the smallest of caresses, but she nearly jumped out of her skin, her cry one of pleading more than of objection.
Then his tongue probed boldly, a strong, demanding stroke that sent her skyrocketing. She screamed, catching fistfuls of his hair to anchor herself as her body burst into a firestorm without end. There was no way to quench the fire. She could only hang on to him as he drove her ever higher, a little ruthlessly, without mercy. Claiming her, branding her, taking her for his own.
She let go, she had no choice, allowing him the intense satisfaction of driving her over the edge. Her orgasm was so strong she shuddered with it, writhing beneath him, keening his name in an inarticulate sound.
Destiny was barely aware of his knees pushing hers further apart, of his thighs settling between hers.
She felt him, large and thick and hot, pulsing with life and need, pushing into her body. He was bigger than she remembered, filling her as he invaded, pressing tightly into her as he slowly began to settle his weight over her. The feel of him inside her was beyond pleasure, beyond her previous experience with him. He belonged. She knew it. She knew she was made for him alone. They fit. No matter that there was some slight stretching and adjusting, no matter that he had to tilt her hips to accommodate him. They fit together as if one single body.
Once deep inside her, he stopped moving, to look down at her, to assure himself that she was unafraid. He was pinning her down with the weight of his body, his hands curled around her hips. She felt his power and strength, knew in that precise heartbeat that he could dominate her will, take over her life. That she would fade to nothing without him.
Fear clouded her eyes. She blinked it away. She had the same power over him. She would not allow fear to keep her from what she wanted. This man. This one man. Her dark and wonderful hunter. It was Destiny who moved first, committing her body to his. Pushing into him, setting a rhythm, inviting him to take her as he wanted.
Nicolae sensed the wildness rising in him. His body was hot and far too tight, his belly and groin burning with urgent need. He moved, surging forward, burying himself deep inside her. A long, hard stroke that shook both of them. She lifted her hips to meet him, unafraid of the strength of his body as he picked up the rhythm, driving hard and fast, needing to empty himself. She was everything. Her body so lush and soft and inviting. He could feel the ebb and flow of her blood, calling him, enticing him.
Her breasts rocked with each hard stroke, drawing his attention so that twice he had to dip his head to lap at her nipples. He was rewarded with her muscles clenching even tighter. Her sheath was fiery hot, so tight he could barely breathe with the intensity of his pleasure.
He'd known from the moment he awakened what he was going to do, and the excitement of it, the anticipation, had been unbearable. Now she was his. He was going to make her completely his. Destiny was made for him alone, and he wanted her, body and soul. Without reservation. He built the exquisite fire between them, taking them up to the edge over and over until she whimpered for mercy.
"I want my blood flowing in your veins." He whispered the temptation. "I will not give us release until you have all of me. I want to be here, buried deep in your body. I want my mind merged deeply with yours and I want my blood in your veins."
There was no way to resist. The craving was already on her, lengthening her incisors so that she lifted her head toward the broad expanse of chest he was offering her. His scent enveloped her. His body was swelling more. The friction was scalding, searing her to her soul. She stroked his skin with her tongue and without further preamble sank her teeth deep, connecting them in the way they were meant to be.
He cried out, his voice strained with the pleasure-pain, the white-hot