Carpathian 05 - Dark Challenge

forth over her pulse, sending flames dancing through her body.
    Desari closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sheer physical pleasure of the moment. His skin was hot and rough against the softness of hers. She could feel his strength, his muscles like steel. They moved together in such perfect rhythm. She wanted it to go on for all time. His arms made her feel protected and cherished. The burning hunger in his eyes made her feel desirable. His words made her feel beautiful. But most of all, the way his body moved, hot and hard and aggressive as he held her to him, turned her own body into a living, breathing flame.
    "It is the way you are inside, Desari, not just the outside package, that makes you so beautiful." His tongue tasted her throat, his lips sliding up to her chin, to the corner of her mouth.
    "You cannot possibly know what I am like," she protested, even as she turned her mouth blindly to his.
    She had to taste him, had to know if this was real, this black magic spell he was weaving so effortlessly around her.
    Desari expected a savage ravishment, his hunger ran so deep and strong. The first touch of his lips was incredibly tender, his mouth moving over hers, memorizing the feel and shape of her, as if he were being swept away, as if he loved the taste of her. It disarmed her as nothing else could. Her legs went rubbery, but he simply gathered her tightly against him, protectively, as if sheltering her with his heart. His hand encircled her throat lovingly, his fingertips moving in a tender caress that sent heat pooling low and a wave of weakness flowing through her body. She made a sound, a low moan of alarm. He was stealing her soul, taking her heart with his gentleness. Desari found his thick mane of golden hair with her fists, clung to him for support. He was ensnaring her for all time, and she was giving herself to him without a Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    fight.
    He was a dangerous, violent predator, yet he held her protectively, kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. It was as if he needed the taste and feel of her just to breathe. How could she not fall under his spell? His voice was low and seductive, a murmur of Italian that took possession of her heart, stole it right out of her body. The world was dissolving into a strange mist around her, the earth shifting beneath her feet. Their bodies were swaying to the music, the shadows hiding them from prying eyes. Desari had the strange feeling he was making love to her. Not sex, but making love to the one woman in the world who mattered to him. Everything in her rose in response to the gentleness of his possession.
    His kiss deepened so that he was feeding on the sweetness of her mouth, his hand spanning her throat, his body trapping hers against a wall, holding her still while he ignited the fire in her blood and turned her body into a living flame.
    "Come with me away from here," he whispered, his beautiful voice raw with need, a sorcerer's seduction.
    Desari rested her head on his shoulder, confused and vulnerable. She wanted him, wanted to be with him. The need was so strong, it was almost a compulsion. She couldn't understand it. Nothing in all her long centuries had prepared her for the force of his magnetism. "I do not even know you."
    Julian's fingers stroked her silky hair, a small, masculine smile softening the hard edge to his mouth. "You insist on believing that, Desari, but you have been in my mind as I have been in yours. I know you are beautiful from the inside out because I hear it in your voice, see it so clearly in your heart and mind. You are a little troublemaker, but you would never hurt a single soul. You are the light to my darkness, my lifemate."
    She shook her head. "I do not know what you mean."
    "You feel it. Do not try to deny it." His thumbs were rubbing silky strands of her hair against his fingers.
    His burning eyes were molten gold, alive with hunger, relentless need, fierce possessiveness.
    "What is a lifemate? I have not heard such a term."
    Julian studied her upturned face, shaped her classic bone structure with his palms. "How is it that you are Carpathian and you do not know this? We have much to learn about one another. Tonight I will explain to you what lifemates are to the people of our homeland." His hand slipped to her throat, then glided down her shoulders and the length of her arm to lace his fingers through hers. "But we are