Carpathian 12 - Dark Melody

again, her lips following the path of his collarbone. All the while, her hands were testing the weight of him, thick and hard and so needy. Her fingertips skimmed and danced; her body moved restlessly with heated demands of her own. "You don't want to wait?" Her voice was husky, sexy, a promise of paradise. Her mouth was wandering over the heavy muscles of his chest toward his flat abdomen. His stomach muscles clenched while fire exploded in the pit of his belly.

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    Dayan's hand slid over her body, trying to memorize every inch of her satin skin. He lost his ability to think rationally, and it didn't matter. Corinne's hands and mouth were inflaming him further, her body willing, accepting, hot and as needy as his own. His fingers found her welcoming moist heat, probed, pushed, felt the rush of hot liquid, eagerly awaiting him. Dayan lifted her, whispered instructions in his mind, or maybe it was just an image.
    Corinne's arms circled his neck and her legs circled his waist. She could feel him, hard and thick, pressing into her. She was open and completely vulnerable to him. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, the exquisite pleasure, the heat and fire, as she enveloped him, took him into her body, uniting them as they were meant to be. The pleasure was more than she had ever dared to dream of. She heard her own small cry of happiness, and her hips began to move, almost of their own volition. She was riding him hard, taking him as deep into her as she could. Her breasts brushed his chest, and the raindrops ran down their bodies like lapping tongues stroking tiny caresses over their sensitized skin.
    Dayan bent his head to her breast as she leaned back, her face lifted to the heavens in a kind of ecstasy.
    This was how it was supposed to be. Right. Perfect. Two halves of the same whole. His hot, seeking mouth found temptation, pulled strongly while her body tightened around his, a fiery velvet sheath he was lost in for all time. His teeth scraped, nipped, sank deep.
    Corinne cried out, her fists clenching in his hair as white-hot fire raced through her body, a pleasure so acute it bordered on pain. She forced her eyes open to watch him feed, as his body took hers, surging strongly upward to fill her, the friction keeping her on the edge so that she was clenching her teeth as her muscles convulsively gripped him.
    It was erotic to watch him, his mouth on her skin, his throat working, his black hair rain-wet and slick. It was then, in that perfect moment, in the wild wind and rain, that she noticed his hair was no longer jet black but a soft charcoal. She made a sound, a soft cry of love, of devotion, her eyes filling with tears.
    He lifted his head, his black eyes glittering like obsidian. From the two pinpricks on her breast, two thin trails of crimson merged with the raindrops. Watching her, he bent his head and followed them, returning to close the tiny pricks with his tongue. His dark sensuality triggered a like hunger in her. Deep.
    Elemental. Sensuous.
    She felt her body tighten, clench around his until she was holding him in a slick, tight, fiery grip. Dayan deliberately pushed aside the wet strands of his hair. 'Come on, my love, for me. Do this for me. I need this.' She slowed her hips, using long, slow strokes, letting the hunger wash over her. Slowly she leaned forward, watching him watch her. Very slowly she lapped at the water over his pulse. His body jumped and heated a thousand degrees. Her teeth nipped experimentally. She felt his answering response, his hips surging forward hard, a little faster. Corinne looked up at him, her eyes slumberous, sexy. ‘Ido this for me because I need this. I want all of you, Dayan. I want you to belong to me. I want you in every part of me, with every breath I take.'
    Without hesitation she let it happen. Reached for it. Embraced it. This was her life, and she trusted his leadership as she had every step of the way. She hadn't been repulsed by his need, his dark hunger; instead she craved him in ways she had never imagined possible. More than anything, she trusted him.
    She knew that if she couldn't follow through, he would help her; he had a mesmerizing quality, that would make it easy to follow him anywhere he led. Dayan loved her. He would never do anything to bring her or her daughter harm.
    His body seemed to swell in hers, grow thicker and harder, while her body gripped at his.