Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

stretched out like a pagan sacrifice, like an offering to a long-dead god.
    His eyes moved over her, hot, glowing, burning her skin everywhere his gaze touched. Raven lay quiet beneath his merciless strength, sensing his implacable resolve, aware of some terrible inner struggle within him. Her blue gaze drifted over the lines etched in his face; his mouth, so sensual, capable of such cruelty; his eyes, burning with such fierce need. Raven moved her body, testing his strength, knowing it would be impossible to stop him. She feared their joining because she was unsure of herself, of what to expect, but she believed in him.
    The feel of her soft, exposed body writhing beneath his only inflamed him more. Mikhail groaned her name, his hand sliding up her thigh, finding her heated core. "Trust me, Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Raven. I need your trust." His fingers sought velvet, probed, claimed, produced a rush of hot liquid. He bent his head to taste her skin, the texture, the scent of her.
    She cried out softly when his hot mouth found her breast, when his fingers probed deeper in her center.
    Her body rippled with pleasure. He moved lower, tracing the earlier path of his hands with his tongue.
    With every stroke his body tightened, his heart opened, and the caged beast became stronger. A mate.
    His. He inhaled her scent deeply, drawing her into the very essence of his body; his tongue slid across her slowly, a long caress.
    She moved again, still uncertain, but subsided when he raised his head and looked at her with stark possession burning in his eyes. Deliberately he pushed her knees apart, exposing her vulnerability to him.
    His eyes holding hers in warning, he lowered his head and drank.
    Somewhere deep inside, Mikhail recognized that she was too innocent for this particular brand of wild lovemaking, but he was determined that she would know pleasure from their union, pleasure he gave her, not some hypnotic suggestion. He had waited too long for a mate, endless centuries of hunger and darkness and total desolation. He could not be gentle and considerate when his entire being was demanding that she belong to him totally for all time. He knew her trust was everything. Her faith in him would be her safeguard.
    Her body convulsed; she cried out. Mikhail dragged himself over her, savoring the feel of her skin, her softness, how small she was. Every detail, no matter how small, was imprinted on his mind, became part of the savage pleasure in which he was indulging.
    He released her wrists, bent to kiss her mouth, her eyes. "You are so beautiful, Raven. Belong to me.
    Belong only to me." He was pressing against her, his body still, corded muscle, unbelievably strong, trembling with his need for her.
    "There could be no one else, Mikhail," she answered softly, her fingers soothing on his burning skin. She smoothed the lines of deep despair from his face, reveled in the feel of his hair in her palms. "I do trust you, only you."
    Mikhail caught her small hips in his hands. "I will be as gentle as I can, little one. Do not close your eyes; stay with me."
    She was hot liquid, ready for him, but as he eased his hard length into her, he felt her protective barrier.
    She gasped, stiffened. "Mikhail." There was real alarm in her voice.
    "Just for a moment, little one, and then I will take you to the heavens." He waited for her consent, waited and burned in agony.
    Her blue eyes shimmered, looked up at him with wondrous trust. No one, his kind or hers, down through the centuries, had ever looked at him the way she was looking at him now. Mikhail surged forward, buried himself in her tight, fiery sheath. She moaned softly, and he bent his head to find her mouth, to erase the pain with his tongue. He held himself still, felt their combined heartbeats, the blood singing in their veins, her body adjusting to accommodate his.
    He kissed her gently, tenderly, opening his mind as much as he dared, wanting to share himself with her.
    His love was wild, obsessive, protective, certainly not given easily, but given completely to her. He moved then, slowly and carefully at first, judging her reaction by her expressive face.

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    Mikhail's body's demands began to assert themselves. Fire licked along his skin, roared in his belly. His muscles contracted, flexed, little drops of perspiration beading on his skin. He dragged