Carpathian 06 - Dark Fire

This was too much. Too much of everything. Too much fire and too much feeling.
    "Darius." She breathed his name in a whisper, somewhere between agony and ecstasy.
    "Only Darius," he growled against her skin. "You are mine." Somewhere deep in his heart he knew she still thought of them separately. That he wouldn't stay with her, that she could walk away, would walk away at some point. She wanted him yet was terrified to need him, to be part of him, no Darius without Tempest, no Tempest without Darius. He, on the other hand, had accepted that almost from the first moment he laid eyes on her. His body swelled, hot and slick, velvet steel, and still he moved, wanting to prolong the moment, wanting to bring her to a fever pitch.
    He wanted to hear those soft little sounds she made in her throat, the ones that melted his heart and sent arrows piercing his soul. Those sounds drove him crazy. In his mouth was the delicious taste of her, and against his skin was the feel of hers, bare and soft and so vulnerable, all for him. He savored the moment, prolonged it, reaching higher and higher until her body was gripping and clenching around his, wringing his very essence from him, milking an explosion of heat and flame, a firestorm of ecstatic pleasure that consumed them both.
    Her breath was coming in little gasps, and he had to hold her up to prevent her shaky legs from giving way. She turned her head to look at him, her green eyes glittering jewels. "I had no idea it could be like this, Darius. You're incredible." She meant it sincerely. She had read books-who hadn't? She'd lived on the streets, grown up around hookers. Naturally she'd asked a few questions. No one had described anything like the feelings Darius produced in her. The graphic mechanics, perhaps, but not the beauty and passion of what they did together.
    "It is us together," he explained patiently, wanting her to understand. Tempest was so programmed to be alone, to live her a solitary existence, that her mind refused to comprehend the true meaning of their joining.
    "You don't feel this way when you make love to other women?" she asked, struggling to believe that a man as virile, a man who made love as often and as vigorously as Darius did, had not needed hundreds of partners in the past. How could any one woman possibly keep up with his demands, possibly satisfy Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    him? She had no real experience. How could she keep him happy?
    He found himself frowning as he read her thoughts. Darius swept her into his arms and waded back into the pool to rinse her off one more time. "You keep up with my every demand," he pointed out. "And you satisfy me perfectly. There can be no other woman, Tempest. You can touch my mind with yours. I cannot lie to you. Read my thoughts. I speak the truth. There is only you in my heart. It is only you my body will accept. There will never be another. It is for all time."
    "I will grow old and die, Darius," she pointed out. "In another hundred years you will find someone else."
    She laughed softly at her own ego. "Notice I gave you plenty of time to grieve for me."
    "Put your arms around my neck. Look at me." He commanded it, wanting her complete attention. "I love you, Tempest, not any other woman. It is not the love of humans; it is more encompassing and violent than that, yet more pure and cherishing."
    She shook her head. "You haven't known me long enough to feel real love. You're attracted to me sexually, that's all." She sounded desperate even to her own ears.
    "I have been inside your mind countless times, Tempest. I know everything about you. Every childhood memory, good and bad. I know your secret thoughts, thoughts humans never share with anyone else. I know the things you do not like about yourself. I know your strengths and the things you consider weaknesses. I know more about you in the time we have had together than any human male could know in a lifetime. I love you. The entire you."
    His hand moved to wash the evidence of their love-making from between her legs, his fingers soothing, gentle. "I know you think I am the sexiest man you have ever met. You think I am handsome. You love the sound of my voice. You particularly like my mouth and my eyes and the way I look at you." His black gaze moved over her face, the faint humor fleeting as he continued. "You fear my powers, yet you accept them and the differences in me with surprising ease. I make you