Dark Celebration Page 0,55

it over her shoulders. Looking down at her kneeling before him, with that small, mysterious half smile on her face and that too-hot look in her eyes, nearly was his undoing.

He kneaded her shoulders for a moment, eased the tension from the nape of her neck and then slid his palms over her soft skin to her breasts-all the while breathing deep to stay in control. His thumbs found her nipples, brushing them into hard peaks, his caresses drawing a gasp of pleasure from her. His hands cupped her breasts, fingers stroking and caressing with an expertise of knowing her body so well.

Syndil cried out with pleasure as the sensations swamped her. As always, with one touch of his hands, she was on fire. She knew he could shatter her, bring her to a fever pitch with just the strong pull of his mouth or the scrape of his teeth. He knew everything about her body, every way to bring her pleasure, and he always did-unselfishly and wholeheartedly. He always put her pleasure before his own. It wasn't fair. She desperately wanted to bring him to that same fever pitch, sweep him away on a tidal wave of passion, bring him the kind of ecstasy he always brought her.

Her fingers tangled in his hair. His mouth and stroking hands sent vibrations humming through her bloodstream and quickening her pulse. Her womb clenched, and she felt the familiar urgent need gathering deep in her core. She forced herself back in control, her fist closing over the silky-hard length of his erection, deliberately sending warm air over him to distract him.

His breath caught in his throat and he straightened, throwing his head back when her mouth closed over him, tongue sliding and curling as all the while she kept the suction tight. He rewarded her with a groan, thickening even more.

Pleasure flashed through her. She kept her mind firmly merged in his, reading his every thought, every image, making adjustments to push his pleasure higher, until his hands gripped her hair, his hips thrust helplessly and guttural sounds escaped his throat.

She felt his body tighten, the rush of fire spreading from his toes through his body straight to his groin. She took him deeper, finding the perfect rhythm so that he shuddered and muttered an expletive she'd never heard him use.

"You're killing me," he whispered hoarsely.

In a good way, Syndil knew. Her entire body reacted to the knowledge that she was pushing Barack to the very edge of his control. She wanted to shatter it, to do to him what he did to her. The power felt incredible, and the satisfaction even more so. She was almost euphoric with happiness, kissing her way up his belly to his chest, his throat, urging him over the top of her, so frantic to have him buried deep inside her she couldn't think of anything but pleasing him-pleasing herself.

She fell back into the rose petal-covered snow, dragging him with her. Skin pressed to

skin, hearts beat the same rhythm. She felt his weight settle over hers, his hands hard on her hips, his knee nudging her thighs apart. He thrust hard, entering her body, joining them together in one fiercely primitive stroke. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Lightning streaked through her body, and she cried out with drowning pleasure.

He moved in her, hard, sure strokes, filling her emptiness until she felt as if she were soaring free. His hair slid over her skin, a sensuous silk brushing her already hypersensitive breasts. Her body tightened, muscles clenching and gripping as her hips rose to meet the fast rhythm of his. She moved slightly, adjusting her position, and his hands gripped her hard, holding her down.

At once she was aware of her surroundings, of the man on top of her. Syndil looked up at the face, almost savage in his desire, red flames flickering in the depths of his black eyes. She could see his teeth, already lengthened, the muscles clearly defined in his arms.

Syndil tried desperately to hold onto the passion that seemed to always be locked away inside her. It poured out on occasion, but somewhere, somehow, just when she thought she had conquered her fears, a door slammed shut and dammed up her needs, her physical desires, behind a wall of terror. She fought it, fought the rising panic and the memory of teeth biting at her, of brutal hands hurting her, of something obscene and unnatural ripping through her, taking her virginity without