Carpathian 12 - Dark Melody

you, but you're strong and free. I'm a prisoner trapped in this body. What my heart and soul and brain want are things I'll never experience, so I use music to soar."
    Dayan said nothing. He couldn't speak; the lump in his throat was blocking his ability to breathe. It was the way she lived her life. Corinne accepted what had been given to her and lived wholly despite her limitations. She embraced life. Tasted it. Experienced it. He could imagine her flying as a bird in the sky, swooping through the treetops. He would always have to stay close to her, watch over her, or Corinne would go for the stars.
    "Don't feel sorry for me, Dayan," she said softly. "You see, I've been incredibly lucky. I treasure each day I have." She turned to look around her home. "I've had so much in my life, so many unexpected things. Come with me, look at this. Lisa is an absolute cretin when it comes to musical instruments so she didn't appreciate this at all, but you will." She caught his hand and tugged. "I know you will."
    He went with her because he had no other choice. He would have followed her to the ends of the earth.
    She took him through the hall to the open room with the piano, quickly exposing the ivory keys. Her fingers were tight around his as she pulled him to the bench, nearly pushing him onto it.

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    "Listen to this. Listen to the sound." Her hands skimmed across the keys, fluttered and settled to play a sonata he immediately recognized.
    The sound was beautiful, the notes true. Dayan watched her fingers glide over the keys. She played effortlessly, with a certain abandon, losing herself completely in the music. She played the way she lived life. The way she would love him. Passionately, with everything in her. Giving freely, generously. A complete merging of her body and soul and heart.
    She was so beautiful to him. Her head bent over the keys, her eyes closed, her hair tousled and tumbling around her face, her expression one of concentration and rapt enthrallment. Dayan reached around her, planted both hands on the piano so his arms created an effective wall. He bent to taste the temptation of the nape of her neck. Her natural fragrance drew him, assailed his senses so that he could think only of Corinne. Of her soft skin and inviting body. Of the passion in her, the magic.
    Corinne's fingers stilled on the piano and she turned into his embrace, half rising to meet the heat of his mouth. She found fire and flames. A burst of sunlight and a shattering need more compelling than life itself. They fed off each other, devoured each other, unable to get close enough. His mouth was hot and commanding. Hers was silken and insistent. She lost herself in his mouth, in his masculine taste. He couldn't get enough, feeding on her, taking the sweetness she offered like a starving man.
    Her hands slid beneath his shirt, his hands were tugging at her blouse. The fire was explosive, the heat an inferno. There was no rational thought, only the feel of skin, hers satin soft, his firm and defined with hard muscle. He shifted her, his knee thrusting between her legs so she was riding on the hard column of his thigh.
    Dayan made a soft sound, an edgy note of ravenous hunger welling up from his soul. The tone pierced her heart, invaded her mind so that she wrapped her arms around his head to cradle him to her, giving him everything, anything. Wanting to be whatever he needed. He pushed her shirt up out of his way, all the while his mouth and hers performed a tango of seduction.
    His tongue stroked and teased, danced with hers. His teeth nibbled at her lower lip, the comer of her mouth, settled over her dimple. His lips drifted over her skin, down her neck and throat, leaving flames in their wake. He lifted his head then. Inhaled. Drank her scent in, deep within his lungs. His half-closed eyes slid over her.
    Rested on her breasts. Soft. Creamy. Firm and tantalizing.
    Her bra was a lacy dusky rose, lovingly cupping her full breasts. Corinne heard the hitch in his breath as he slowly bent his head to her. His long hair slid over her skin, brushed at her like silken caresses. His hands were incredibly gently as he cupped the soft weight of her, lifting one breast free of the bra. His tongue swirled over her nipple. Waves of sensation rocked her, shook her. His mouth, hot and moist, closed around her aching flesh. Corinne's legs almost went out from under her. She leaned