Carpathian 13 - Dark Destiny

head, dragging her body to him, she reached behind her to undo the tiny clasp.
    His mouth closed over her breast, wildly hot and moist, suckling right through the thin lace, his teeth scraping gently, expertly so that she cried out and cradled his head to her. Destiny's knees nearly buckled, the sensation was so strong, so overwhelming. Her fists clenched in the thick silk of his hair, holding him to her while his tongue danced and stroked and his mouth pulled strongly, creating a burning, throbbing pool of need in her deepest core. The friction of the lace and the heat of his mouth drove her crazy. She arced into him, giving herself up to sheer pleasure.
    When he lifted his head to attend to her other breast, the scrap of lace floated freely to the ground. His lips found bare flesh, ravishing her with his mouth alone. His tongue lavished attention on her, teeth teasing until she cried out, her fists tugging at his hair. She really was going to fall. There was no way to stand up; all strength had drained from her legs. Only his arms held her up.
    He bent her back slightly, teasing, lapping, suckling, loving, lusting after her. Going up in flames. His hands shifted, tracing the contours of her body. She had full breasts, a narrow waist and flaring hips designed to be cradled by his body.
    "How can it be like this?" she gasped. "I never knew it would be like this." A wildfire out of control. A fierce firestorm neither could ever put out. They had started it, and it burned bright and hot and perfect.
    She was melting, her body soft and pliant with need. She wanted his touch—more, needed it. There was never going to be enough time for them to be together. She was in another world, another time and place, far from the realities of what her life had become.
    She heard her own gasp as his tongue lapped the underside of her breast. Her stomach clenched. There was only feeling, wonderful, pure feeling.
    "My clothes," he said against her flat belly. "My clothes are killing me, Destiny. Take them off for me."
    It was his voice again. That perfect sensuality. That urgent need. Destiny found it impossible to resist him. Her gaze dropped to the front of his pants. The material was stretched far too tight. Her heart leapt.

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    In fear or anticipation? Destiny wasn't certain which emotion was predominant, but that thick bulge drew her attention immediately. She couldn't resist brushing her hand across the hard evidence of his need.
    When he jumped, she closed her hand over the bulge, pressing into him. He was hot, throbbing. He grew larger, swelling into her palm.
    Keeping her hand in place, she removed his clothing in the manner she had grown accustomed to, using her mind, rather than her hands. Her palm found hot flesh, hard, iron in velvet. Nicolae sucked in his breath, murmured something against her soft skin. His teeth scraped erotically, tugged and teased, his tongue swirling to ease every ache.
    "Your clothes." His voice had dropped an octave, was huskier, a little rougher than before. The touch of his mouth on her stomach left behind a trail of fire everywhere he touched. "Get rid of them." His hips were pushing forward, thrusting deeper, filling her palm. "I need them off of you." His hands were pushing at her clothing, trying to be gentle when he wanted to tear the offending material from her lush body.
    Her fingers squeezed, danced, played lightly over the hard length of him, taking pleasure in what she was doing to him, feeling the bursting fire in his veins through their mind merge. Colors seemed to sparkle around them; there were tiny sparks behind her eyelids. She allowed herself to drift further into the world of sensuality, into Nicolae's world of heat and passion.
    Destiny felt the heat of the flames, watched the shadows they cast on the wall. A man bending over a woman's body. Her breasts thrust upward in invitation, his head down as he explored her offering. It was an erotic image, a shocking one when she considered she was part of it. Watching the shadowy figures, she allowed her cotton jeans and scrap of lace underwear to slide away from her body, watched them simply disappear, leaving her skin to skin with Nicolae.
    His hands moved possessively over her hips, her buttocks, smoothing, kneading, exploring. His fingers nestled in tight curls, causing her to gasp, her body tightening in anticipation. The need was building to a terrible