Dark Curse Page 0,99

she drew back, color stealing into her face as she realized there was a small wet spot right over her engorged nipple.

"No one can see us," he murmured. "I have to see you like this-wanting me."

"I think you've managed to accomplish that already." Even her voice was different. Husky. Sexually charged. An invitation. She couldn't take her eyes from him, mesmerized by the sheer, naked longing on his face. She had never, under any circumstances, imagined a man looking at her like that, let alone a man such as Nicolas De La Cruz. "You have this way of making me feel as if you are so focused on me you don't see another woman in the room."

"Why would I want to see another woman? You are the only one who matters to me." He continued to absently brush his fingers up and down her arm, absorbing the warm, silky texture of her skin. "You are my woman."

His softly spoken tone, like black velvet rubbing over her exposed skin, caused her womb to clench and moisture to gather at the junction of her legs. She twisted her fingers together in her lap beneath the table as trembling began to work from her toes to her head. The music seemed to be playing in her head, or maybe it was the rush of her own blood keeping time with his.

She felt starstruck, unable to speak when her body was shaking with need of him.

Nicolas tugged on her arm until she gave up her hand. His long fingers stroked over the ridges on her wrist, now much fainter than they had been. "Promise me if I drive you to feel so hopeless again, if anything or anyone does, you will tell me." He brought her hand to his chest, over his heart, his fingers still stroking those long caresses up and down her bare skin. "I know I am not an easy man to take, nor will I ever be, but I want only to secure your protection and happiness."

She managed a nod. "I promise."

He leaned closer to her, his lips inches from hers. "And I want to feel your body under mine and hear you scream with pleasure. I plan on taking my time, having you over and over all night long until neither one of us can stand up, until you cannot think, only feel. I want to give you every sensual experience that I can." He brought her hand to his mouth. "I have waited several lifetimes for you, Lara."

His voice was gentle, low and very sensual, his black gaze hooded, but there was nothing gentle in his eyes. Turbulent. A violent storm raging. A hunger that was so sharp and savage he looked ready to throw her onto the dining room table and rip her dress from her body. The thought added to the temperature rising fast inside of her. Between her legs she was so hot she felt on fire. He hadn't really touched her, yet she wanted him almost beyond imagining. The lines etched in his face spoke of control-only by a thread and a part of her wanted to shatter that control, to know what it was like to be thrown on the table and taken by a man whose hunger for her was insatiable.

She blushed and hastily looked down at the table as the waitress approached.

She cannot see you clearly. His voice brushed intimately against the walls of her mind, making her entire body tingle with awareness. She wanted to be out of the inn and into his bed. She could barely breathe anymore with desire swamping her.

The waitress placed the bowl of vegetable soup in front of her and left without speaking. Nicolas kept possession of her hand. Lara dipped the spoon in the bowl, took it out and then began making little waves with it.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Her gaze jumped to his. "Not of you. I've never had sex before. You seem very experienced."

A slow smile softened the edge of his mouth. "I had many centuries to learn technique and speculate what I would want to do with my partner, should I ever be so lucky to have one. Our males can be quite obsessed with the idea of sex, but as a general rule, it is not fulfilling without our lifemate. Perhaps that is a safeguard for our women as well as the other women around us. My sexual appetite is raging and if just anyone could assuage it, I am

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