not help myself." He nibbled and teased the corner of her mouth until she obediently opened for him. There was a faint coppery taste as his tongue swept inside, claiming her for his own. Before she could give it any thought, he had taken possession of her soul, her body, so that she was no longer a thinking woman, but a living flame of need and hunger.
His hand came up to cup the weight of her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple through the thin material of her blouse. Flames raced through her bloodstream. His mouth left hers, his teeth nibbling her chin, down the side of her neck and along her vulnerable throat so that she arced closer to him. A soft moan escaped her as his mouth nudged the edge of her blouse.
"We have to stop," she said softly, not convincing either of them.
Her heart was laboring far too hard. That, more than anything else, caused Dayan to gain total control of the demon battling for supremacy. He wanted so much to claim her for his own, to bind her to him. He wanted to secure her life by exchanging blood, not simply tasting the essence of what would be his. He needed her, but more importantly, she needed him. "You are right, honey," he said with deep regret. "Follow my breathing pattern to allow your heart to rest."
She was relaxed in his arms, her eyes closed, her body on fire, yet she felt as if she couldn't move to save her life. She was inexplicably tired, drained. "I need to get things from my house. Medicine. Important things. If we really can't go back for a while, we'll need clothes."
"Make a list," he suggested again. He was moving through the night, his arms cradling her effortlessly, his strides long and easy. He was silent as he carried her toward the small house he shared with Cullen. Every now and then he bent his head to brush the top of her silky head with a kiss.
"I can't make a list, Dayan, you know that. Some things are private. Lisa might let me get her things, but she would never let you go through her personal drawers."
"Then I will buy clothes for you. And makeup, and whatever else you think is necessary." There was no impatience in his voice, rather a mild male amusement as if mundane things like clothes and makeup were of no consequence to him.
Corinne struggled to open her eyes to pin him with a smoldering gaze. "I do not need you to buy me clothes. At least I'm willing to take you with me when I go back to the house. Think of it as a concession."
He paused for a moment, studying her delicate features. "You do not really want to return to the house." He made it a statement. His voice was a soft lure.
She made a supreme effort and caught at the nape of his neck. "You can stop with the voice, Dayan, because I am going. It's important. If you want to come with me, you may, but you aren't going to use your voice to persuade me otherwise. In any case, I know you'll protect me."
"You sound very stern," he commented with great admiration. "I am certain I am very impressed." He couldn't stop the warmth her words produced. She did trust him whether she knew it or not.
"Kissing you is enough to make a woman weak, Dayan," she said, exasperated with herself. "It's bad enough to lie here like a sixteenth century heroine without you teasing me about how I sound."
He kissed her forehead again. "You do sound impressive. It was a compliment."
They had arrived at the house, and without conscious thought, Corinne waved her hand to open the door. He laughed softly in her ear. "Now that was very impressive. I do not think you do that in front of many people. You are becoming very comfortable in my presence."
"Well, don't flatter yourself. It isn't you at all. It's your voice. I like to hear you talk even if you spout a lot of nonsense and macho male rhetoric."
He bent his head and found her mouth with his, easily, unerringly, as if it were the most natural, necessary thing in the world. And he made time stop for that brief moment. "It is me," he said complacently as he carried her through the door. "And I never spout macho male rhetoric."
Lisa and Cullen sprang hastily apart as they entered.