Dark Peril Page 0,108

as his hands went to her back.

He was using an oil of some sort. It smelled a little minty, and as he applied it, rubbing it into her muscles, heat spread. She wasn't certain if it was the oil, his hands or her body's response, but deep inside her core, her temperature soared. He worked down each arm and then down her lower back until she was nearly purring. A pure jaguar couldn't purr, but her species could, thankfully, and right now would be an appropriate moment.

"You cannot be close to me--or to them. The moment the parasites sense you they will go quiet and they'll know either you or Brodrick is near. We will need a good plan."

She rubbed her cheek against the soft padding of the table. "That's what you were trying to tell me, but I jumped to conclusions."

"I have given some thought to how I phrased it. Perhaps I could have chosen my words more carefully."

His hands on the small of her back felt wonderful. "I think you were being who you are, Dominic. You were named well. You have dominant tendencies. Unfortunately, although I doubt I was born with them, I've developed them."

"Your fighting skills are extraordinary, as is your courage in battle," he acknowledged.

His praise sent a warm glow through her. His hands moved lower, to her buttocks, working deep in the muscle, kneading thoroughly until her body was limp. He took a few moments to stroke gentle caresses over her lush curves before his hands moved her thighs apart. She thought of protesting; she was already aroused beyond what she thought she could bear. But this time he started with her feet, so she submitted, thinking herself safe.

How many times had she limped her way back to this cave, cold and bloody and sore, and wished just for this one thing--a massage. She remembered telling her dream man how she often fantasized about a massage. It warmed her that he remembered and cared enough to give her this amazing experience. She'd never felt so pampered in her life.

His hands worked their way steadily up her legs and her breath caught in her throat as he began pressing and rubbing above her knees. The strokes moved up higher, toward the junction of her legs, and she couldn't stop the flood of telltale damp heat. She actually could feel her sheath pulsing, empty and in need. A small sound escaped and she jammed her fist into her mouth. She should have told him to stop, but it felt like heaven.

"So what do you think we should do?" She tried to keep her mind on battle, on any distraction, but she was so aware of those strong fingers moving closer and closer to the place where she needed him most.

"I think we have a couple of days before the big meeting takes place. More vampires are in the area. I want to make certain they stay away from Zacarias's people."

She frowned. "Can you do that?"

"I am going to try. It will be a difficult safeguard to cast, and I will need blood to do it."

"I don't mind you taking mine," Solange said, and realized it was true. She would rather provide for him than have anyone else do so. In the end, when she'd gotten past her fear of being conquered, she'd found it an erotic experience.

His finger moved down her bottom, tracing the firm flesh and sliding across her very wet sex. She inhaled sharply and rolled over. She couldn't take one more moment of his hands on her. She'd never felt so needy in her life.

He stepped back and helped her to sit. She was too limp to stand. "I do not know if it is safe for me to take your blood, for either of us. Not until we get the information needed from the vampires."

"For either of us?" Solange found it hard to look at him. He was so gorgeous and she was so naked, her skin flushed, her breathing almost harsh. Hadn't he been as affected by touching her as she was by his touch?

"Your blood may be killing the parasites, and I need them," he explained. "As for you, the act of taking your blood is very sensual, and I dare not lose control and convert you. How are you feeling now?"

"I feel better. Thank you."

"More relaxed?"

She bit her lip. She didn't want to lie to him. He'd gone to a lot of trouble for her.

Two fingers lifted her chin.