Carpathian 08 - Dark Legend

her in the same way she burned for him. His touch on her bare skin was torment and pleasure. When he slowly bent his dark head to find her breast with the heat of his moist mouth, she trembled with an urgency she had never known before. Her fingers crushed his hair, holding him to her. "It's almost too much feeling, Gabriel. I don't know if I can take it."
    His hands were shaping her body, pushing aside her clothes while his palms and fingers lingered and savored, stroked and caressed.
    "Yes you can, you were made for this," he whispered softly. He bent his head lower to lick her flat stomach. "You were made for me." Easily he lifted her to the top of the counter, seating her on the edge. "You were made for long nights, Francesca, long lazy nights of making love." His hands caressed her thighs, and he pressed his palm to her hot wet core, smiled when her body clenched and she shuddered with pleasure. His head dipped lower so that his silken hair brushed her sensitive thighs and a soft moan escaped her throat.
    Francesca cried out at the first touch of his warm breath, the first lap of his tongue. "Do you know what you taste like?" He asked the question softly, intimately, in her mind. His voice scorched the inside of her mind as his tongue was scorching the core of her body. She could feel her body winding tighter and tighter, pleasure building in force and intensity so that the release rushed over her with such power she could only clutch his hair as wave after wave swamped her.
    "Gabriel." She said his name, breathed his name, drew the masculine scent of him into her lungs. "Gabriel."
    "We are just getting started, beautiful one," he answered softly, raising his head to smile at her.
    He was so handsome, so perfect for her, Francesca could feel tears burning in her throat. There in the night, the night that called to something wild in them, he looked at her with eyes burning with desire. Hot. Urgent. Demanding. She had waited so long for his eyes to look at her like that.
    And then he was driving sanity from her mind, replacing it with frenzied passion. Francesca could think of nothing but having his body buried deep within hers. Once more his palm pushed against her sensitive core, and then he slowly inserted his finger, all the time watching her face, watching the pleasure wash over her as her tight sheath clenched around him.
    "It is not enough." There was a smile in his voice; he bent his head to taste her again even as his finger slowly eased out of her. Two fingers stretched her, pushed deep so that she gasped with pleasure. "And that is not enough." There was pure masculine satisfaction in his voice, on his face.
    She could feel it again, the hot pressure, molten lava building and building until her entire body was in danger of imploding. He pushed into her, caressed, stroked, his tongue teased and danced. "This is what I want, honey, more, come for me. I want to see it on your face, I want to know you feel it, too." His voice softened, went husky. "Come for me, my love, just let go."
    With a choking cry she let herself be taken over the edge, her body clenching and spiraling out of her control. His mouth heightened the effect, bringing her an endless orgasm that seemed to go on forever and yet was not enough. She closed her eyes and just gave herself up to pure feeling, to the beauty of his hands and tongue in her body doing slow, merciless things that only made the fire hotter. She was writhing now, her hips unable to stay still beneath the assault on her senses. Then he added his mind, thrusting deeply into hers, picturing things he wanted to do before he did them, so that she could feel her body through his mind, the silken heat, the clenching, tight muscles.
    Francesca could feel Gabriel's mounting desire, the way his body burned and ached, hardening to the point of pain. His hands were becoming rougher, more demanding, and she reveled in the thought of his own loss of control. "I want you inside me, Gabriel," she murmured softly, a demand. "I want your body in mine. I don't want you to treat me as if I might break either." She said it deliberately, knowing what it would do to his body, knowing he was caught up in the same storm of fire as she was.
    She looked beyond him to the bank of mirrors, saw his perfectly formed masculine body, the defined muscles, the long shiny hair, and her body fragmented again, an explosion of such force it rocked her, shook her, so that she cried out with the fury of it.