Carpathian 17 - Dark Celebration

loved the way his hair brushed over her skin, the way his mouth was so eager for her. She could lose herself in his body all night, never think of anything—or anyone else.
    He looked at her and wanted her. One brush of her hand set him on fire. Once he had taken her right in the village, shielding them from prying eyes, but it felt so decadent. She had deliberately tempted him, allowing her fingers to trail over the front of his trousers, rubbing against him, her blouse gaping open to show her breasts—and he had responded in just the way she loved. He shoved her against a wall and took her right there, unable to wait one more second. She loved teasing him, seeing the heat building in his eyes and that stern mask disappear only for her.
    He always told her how much he loved her—how much she meant to him. She found it difficult to put her emotions into words, afraid if she tried to voice the depth of her emotion, that would somehow take it away from her. She had never loved the way she loved him.
    She hadn't even known it was possible.
    Vikirnoff reluctantly released her breasts, skimming her mouth with feather-light kisses before straightening. "Did you hear something?"
    "Someone is in the woods near our house." She wrapped her arm around his head and drew him back down, her mouth melting provocatively with his. Heat flared instantly. Her tongue dueled with his, teasing and stroking while her hands slid over his body. Her fingers danced over the hard length of him, satisfaction making her purr as he grew thicker and harder. She wrapped her hand around him and bent down to breathe warm air over him.
    His shaft jumped. She licked him much like a cat licking cream. The moist heat of her mouth engulfed him, spreading fire through his belly. He forgot visitors and caught two fistfuls of tawny hair, dragging her closer as he thrust with his hips, surging deep into her mouth. She went to her knees, wrapping her arms around his hips and taking him down her throat, squeezing and nibbling and licking until he thought he might go insane from sheer pleasure.
    Natalya never did anything halfway, abandoning herself to the joy of serving him, of taking all power through her joy of sex. She loved touching him and tasting him and drawing out every drop of his seed just to see how fast she could bring him back to a fever pitch.
    She made a small little purring noise deep in her throat that sent a vibration right through his shaft, and spread out to his entire body. His balls drew tight and hard, and every nerve in his body seemed centered in his groin. Lust was sharp and hungry and raking at his insides as he watched her lips slide over his shaft and he felt the white hot curl of her tongue, the heart-stopping edge of her teeth.
    "Harder," he bit out through clenched teeth. She was close to swallowing him, doing something fantastic with her tongue and throat muscles.
    She looked up at him and there was so much joy in her eyes. For him. For her ability to give him this gift. If it was possible, she tightened her throat and flicked with her tongue, pushing him over edge just as fast and hard as he had pushed her. Fire streaked through his bloodstream, tore though his body. She milked him with her tight hot mouth, with his fists twisted almost violently in her hair holding her still while he thrust helplessly, going as deep as he could. His body shattered, from his toes to his head, burst into flames as jet after jet of seed was drawn from him.
    Woman, you are killing me . And it felt like it, a beautiful death. He dragged her to her feet, not relinquishing his hold on her hair, his mouth finding her breasts, feeling her heightened desire. He flicked her nipples, felt the ripple of response rush through her body.
    He bit down gently, felt her jump, her womb clench and spasm.
    "I love doing that to you," she whispered. "It always makes me so hot to see you like that, and you always give me what I want. And I want more, Vikirnoff. I want much, much more."
    "I am always ready to accommodate you."
    Natalya wrapped one bare leg around him, rubbing against his thigh. "Keeping me happy is a full-time job."
    He reached down and lifted her with casual strength, turning her so he could rest her bare bottom on the counter. "You have nowhere to run, sívamet ."
    Secretly, it was one of her favorite things when he spoke his ancient language and called her his love. His accent was sexy and intriguing and his words seemed a secret world no one