The slow suckle of the oversensitive bud that he'd found made her h*ps move to the pulse of his tongue. And as his mouth explored the tender folds around it, she arched to try to return him to where he'd just been. But he wasn't having it. He'd found a deeper region, and he circled it before plundering it, her cries nearly shattering glass.
His mouth wandered, leaving her aching, another site abandoned, his fingers adding delicious, torturous penetration, but a poor substitute. He chuckled, reading her mind, knowing, finding the place she needed him to kiss most, and he allowed his tongue to salsa it until she grabbed his hair with both hands.
Hovering on the edge of certain madness, she could not understand her body. It wouldn't yield, wouldn't obey her and just plunge over the edge of the near orgasm. Instead, it teetered, going close, then stepping back, ignoring her will. Her moan became a whimper, then a plea of despair.
"I know," he murmured against her thigh, hot and thick. "Now do you understand?"
Her voice caught in her throat. She nodded with her eyes closed, but knew he was watching her face, triumphant.
His kisses trailed up her middle, his hands leaving a burn as they stroked her. "I was right there, just like that... on the brink for months."
She wanted him so badly, she nearly wept when he covered her. She struggled beneath his hold, trying to offer him entry, but he just lay refusing to come in.
"For us," he murmured into her hair, winding it through his fingers, "release is impossible without the bite." If she'd turned, he had to teach her. She was his woman, his wife, and had to know all there was to thrive in his dark world that had become hers.
He was in full control, and she knew it. She could feel his fangs tease her skin, his h*ps lowering slowly, calmly.
"Please..." Her hands scrabbled at his shoulder blades, but he shook his head no and chuckled low in his throat.
"Uh-uh. Not yet." She had to learn patience, how to seduce prey, how to co-opt would-be aggressors. She had to learn how to function within the sixth realm.
Only a millimeter in, he withdrew from the bite, as he entered her agonizingly slow, kissing the nick at her neck. Then he kissed her hard, pulled back to look into her eyes. She ran her tongue over her fangs and she tried to catch her breath. He smiled and closed his eyes.
"Yeah, baby, now you're ready."
She felt herself falling, his arms tight around her as her back met red satin sheets. Crimson rose petals stuck to her legs, the aroma making her heady, his touch now bold and firm. His eyes flickered in the dancing torchlight as he looked down at her. She could feel perspiration dampen his back, and she arched into him, hoping he would take her quickly.
The strike was so sudden, so hard, it made colors dance behind her lids. Her body convulsed as he penetrated her once again. He was in so deep that she could taste her own blood in her mouth. He'd found that elusive spot and stroked it over and over again. She dug her nails into the smooth, hard globes of his ass.
Every muscle in his back worked in harmony with her breath-chants, his thighs pushing them up the bed, dangerously near a marble post. He reached out, not breaking stride, and slid them away from it.
She sobbed his name in refrain and he pulled out of the bite, threw his head back, tears streaming down his face. Now she understood.
Offering her his throat, even while he continued to lunge against her, she knew what he needed. His anticipation of her bite made his breaths become ragged. The moment her mouth neared his neck, she could feel him begin to shudder. She leaned up and licked the sensitive surface of his neck and he moaned. The sound of his voice convulsed her womb. They struck at the same moment. Blinding pleasure almost made it impossible to siphon. Every convulsion that ripped through him entered her, recycling itself back to him with her heat contained within it.
She could barely breathe and had to pull up. Her heart felt like a tight fist was crushing it - the waves of ecstasy were so intense. But his tortured plea not to stop now brought her mouth to his throat again.
A prolonged wail traveled up his torso, entered her veins though his bite, made him seek air, refuge from the sensory overload. Carlos's fingers raked the sheets, shredding them in the wake, while she tightened her legs and arms around him and tried to hold on.
Carlos dropped his head to her shoulder, his face burning, hair soaked, breathing erratic. All she could do was pet away the shudders until his body stopped jerking.
Chapter Nine
THE glare of harsh hospital lamps made him squint as he came to. Berkfield immediately tried to sit up, but realized instantly that his hands and feet were strapped to a cold metal table. He tried to cry out, but his vocal cords were frozen. White-masked men in green surgeon's gowns peered down at him.
"Is the key ready?" an eerily distant, accented voice asked.
One of the masked men around the table nodded and held up a huge needle containing a silvery red fluid. Terror seized Berkfield as he stared at the epidural-sized syringe. He shook his head no, wildly resisting in vain. That only produced strange, out-of-body laughter from an unknown source within the sterile lab.
"Inject him," the voice said. "Then bring him to my chambers for the ritual."
Seated comfortably in the rec room around the poker table, seven guardians sat in a circle, hands joined, eyes closed. Four members of the Covenant stood watch, each positioned in the four earth directions, north, south, east, and west. The men at the Guardians' backs kept vigil to prevent evil from attacking from all directions, murmuring prayers in different languages. Marlene's mouth moved, her silent meditation calling down the Light to watch over them, requesting discernment to open their eyes, to sharpen their gifts, and to locate their baby girl.
"I can't see her and I can't feel her," Marlene said quietly, her voice tight with frustration, "and I've been trying for nearly an hour."
Beads of sweat dotted her brow, and she dabbed at the offending moisture with the back of her forearm, not breaking the human circle.
"They're obviously blinding both the seers in the group to their whereabouts," Father Patrick said. "But they can't block all of us."