Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

assault of her body. His tongue and fingers stroked and thrust into her; his licks and the tiny bites of his teeth drove her to the very edge of sanity. She couldn't think straight, couldn't find the breath to gasp out a protest as he took over her body, playing it like a finely tuned instrument. He was everywhere, claiming every inch of her as his own, building her need and hunger into a frenzied lust. She screamed through two orgasms, her body inflamed, burning out of control.
    He rose above her, gripping her thighs, desperate hunger running through his body.
    Every muscle was strung so tight he felt coiled and ready, an explosion waiting to happen.
    Looking at her face, so beautiful, so filled with hunger and need for him— for him . There it was, the miracle he had been gifted with. She had been made for him. Her body, this body, fit so perfectly with his; it was designed for pleasure, and he meant to take every drop and give her back tenfold.
    He sank his shaft deep, a hard, driving stroke to take him as far into the hot inferno of her channel as he could get. She was so tight and wet, gripping him with her inner muscles, that he let loose a guttural growl of sheer bliss. Catching her legs, he wrapped them tightly around his waist, forcing her closer to him, so that he could pound deeper and harder with long, sure strokes. He felt her body tighten and shudder around him, but he kept thrusting, in and out, over and over, never wanting it to end. Her second climax began before the first had faded away, throwing her into another much more violent one.
    Her hands clamped onto his shoulders, an anchor for her when he kept going, taking her even higher, forcing her into an explosive third orgasm. It shuddered through her body with the force of a freight train, rocking her, setting off the same explosion in him. He felt the drawing, the tightening until his very bones ached with the contraction. Her sheath, so hot and tight, gripped him, squeezing him to the point of pain, convulsing around him, a fist of hot velvet, until he was helpless to stop the volcanic eruption, spurting into her over and over.
    Natalya stared up at him, dazed and slightly shocked. Her body refused to relax, refused to release him, every aftershock sending shudders of pleasure through her. She couldn't talk, couldn't find a way to drag air into her lungs. She could only lie there with the water lapping at her body, staring into his face.
    "You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen." And more sensual. She looked a siren there, spread out before him like a feast. "Again, Natalya. I want you again.
    And I want your blood and I want to give you mine. I want everything this time."
    She shook her head, a faint smile curving her mouth. "You already took everything. I can't move."
    "I do not want you to move. I want you to feel."
    Natalya couldn't move. Exhausted, her body still crying for more, she looked into his eyes, so dark, so intense with desire. His hands were everywhere, his teeth and mouth and his tongue. She pressed her mouth to his chest, drinking when he demanded, fire pulsing through her, multiple orgasms rocking her when his teeth pierced deep and his body thrust again and again into hers. She couldn't believe she could want more, but desire consumed her, Vikirnoff's needs feeding her own. She couldn't seem to get enough of his body and there didn't seem to be enough ways for him to sate himself with hers. "We're going to die if we keep this up," she warned, when she could talk again.
    "I have centuries to make up for." His hands stroked her breasts. "I will never get enough of touching you like this."
    Natalya rolled over into the heat of the pool. "I'm going to be so sore I won't be able to walk. You look pale. I think you need to feed." Even as she said it, a flare of jealousy spurted through her. What if he bent his head toward another woman, knuckles brushing her breast? What if the woman looked at him with desire, her body growing wet and hot as he approached her? A low snarl escaped and Natalya swam toward the center of the pool. If she ever smelled another woman's scent on him, he would find out what it was like to rouse the tigress.
    Something was wrong, but Natalya couldn't figure out what it was. They'd made love, she had been so happy, but with her mixture of heightened tigress and Carpathian senses, she suddenly felt the presence of another woman. She did. He might deny it all he wanted, but there was another