Carpathian 02 - Dark Desire

pleasure, his hand stroking her hair, encouraging her feeding. He needed this closeness, this erotic intimacy. If he could not have all of her at this moment, he could at least ensure their bond.
    He held her, blanketing her body in the age-old dominant way of his people, yet there was tenderness in his hands as they caressed her. Slowly his hand slid over her silky hair, stroked, lingered, moved around to trace the delicate lines of her face. Then carefully he began to insert his hand between her mouth and his chest. Enough, Shea. Close the wound with your tongue. His gut clenched hotly, his body shuddered as she obeyed him. He wanted her, needed, even hungered for their union. For a moment he felt that need was far more tormenting than wounds.
    He caught her hair in both hands, dragged her head up to his, when everything in him screamed to push her down, to force her to give him some relief. Jacques felt as if he was in hell all over again. His mouth found hers, tasted his own blood. Something inside him raised its head and roared, wild, untamed, something close to breaking free of his tight control. Instinctively his mind sought hers. Shea!
    The summons was sharp, on the edge of desperation. Shea blinked, found herself tangled on the bed with Jacques, her skin rubbing against his, his arms tight, vise-like bands around her, his mouth taking hers with such expertise that her entire body raged for him. He was aggressive, dominant, the position he held her in one of submission. When she looked up at him, his eyes went from desperation, hungry desire, and tenderness to a bestial glow, that of a wild animal taking what belonged to it. She recognized those red flames leaping, betraying the violence in him. When she stiffened, tried to struggle, a warning growl rumbled deep in his throat.
    Shea went very still, forced her mind away from panic and fear, back toward logic. He had called to her in need. The moment she realized that, she relaxed, holding him in her arms with acceptance. He needed her, and she could do no other than help him. His hands were everywhere, rough, hurting even; his teeth bit at her much too hard. Jacques. Deliberately she sought the red haze of his mind. She was calm, tranquil, accepting of his bestial nature. Come back to me.
    He latched on to her like a drowning man, merging his mind with hers. He was breathing hard, in such pain. She could feel the dark desire beating at him, the demand that he claim what was rightfully his.
    Jacques struggled for control of the monster within him. Shea kissed his throat, the hard line of his jaw, a soothing, gentle touch. It's all right. Come back to me.
    He buried his face in her neck, crushed her tightly to him. He was exhausted, in pain, afraid he had driven her even further away. It was Shea who stroked his hair, murmured soothing nonsense, Shea who Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    lay soft and pliant close to his heart. Her palm shaped the side of his face, a physical contact; her mind merged firmly, wholly, with his.
    I am sorry. Jacques rested his chin on top of her head, unwilling to face the condemnation he feared would be reflected in her eyes.
    Ssh, just be still. I should never have left you alone.
    You did not cause this. His arms tightened momentarily. Shea, do not think that. You are not to blame for my madness. My body needs yours. The mating between lifemates is not exactly the same as human mating. I nearly hurt you, Shea. I am sorry.
    You're the one in pain, Jacques, she pointed out gently. She realized she was using their mental link, accepting it as natural. She sighed, reached up to kiss his chin.
    They held each other like two children after a terrible fright, taking comfort in one another's closeness.
    Shea became aware after a time that her skin was against his, bare, sensitive, her breasts pressed into his side. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what happened to my shirt." She lay motionless, drowsy and content. Being so close to him should have bothered her, but it simply seemed normal. Her gaze found the material slashed to ribbons, scattered on the floor beside the bed. "You were in a bit of a hurry, I see," she pointed out, making an effort to get up to get dressed.
    When Shea would have pulled away from him, Jacques refused to relinquish his hold. Instead, he reached lazily for the quilt and pulled it around her. His smile was in her mind. Tell me of your childhood.
    He dropped the