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Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

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any case, crawling didn't figure into her plans. And begging forgiveness wasn't exactly her style. He looked furious, and dangerous, and altogether far too handsome for his own good. A spoiled, arrogant man whom everyone had obviously catered to all of his life. Women must have done whatever he said, when he commanded it. And he must have done a lot of commanding.
    She bit down hard on her lip to keep from telling him to go to hell, because… MaryAnn spread her hands out. "Look, I'm as much to blame as you are. I had choices here." She wasn't going to blame just him. She was a grown woman and believed in responsibility, although nothing that had happened to her since entering the rain forest had been normal. "I bought into the entire lifemate thing because you're… well… you're gorgeous. What woman wouldn't want you?" And she'd reached the point she'd been darned sure she was never going to experience soul-searing, hot-as-hell, unforgettable sex. Manolito looked like a man who could
    —and would—deliver it. So yeah, she was guilty, but he could forget all about her crawling to him for forgiveness.
    Manolito studied his lifemate's face, gently probing her brain at the same time for some clue as to what their relationship had been like. Stormy obviously. And her name was MaryAnn. MaryAnn Delaney. He was hazy about details, such as when and where they'd been first together, but he knew the addicting taste of her. He felt a driving need to dominate, to hear her breathless pleas and see ecstasy cloud her eyes.
    He had reconfirmed the sealing of their souls in the age-old ritual because his mind had insisted he do so. But she was a woman who needed a firm hand. Stripping her naked, yanking her across his knees and delivering it to her unbelievably beautiful bottom was something he'd take pleasure in doing. And then he'd lay her out and taste her, eat her, lap up every drop of that feminine cream, memorize every luscious curve, learn what drove her mad until she did beg him for forgiveness. And then he would bring her over and over to the brink of fulfillment, until she knew just who her lifemate really was.
    He took a step toward her and something crossed her face, fear maybe. He didn't want her afraid of him, not really, although a little healthy fear might win him some cooperation. Confusion for certain. He stopped when she backed away from him and looked around as if she might run.
    "I could never harm my lifemate, you should know that. At most I would find a pleasurable punishment, one I could be certain you would ultimately enjoy."
    MaryAnn frowned at him. "Whatever you're talking about you can forget. I'm too old to be punished. Look, we've made a mistake. Both of us. I came out here with the intention of counseling Juliette's sister, and Riordan told me you were in trouble. I've never actually been introduced to you before. We've never met. I saw you in the Carpathian Mountains at the Christmas party, right before you were attacked, and a few times in the distance, but we were never introduced. I have no psychic ability. I'm a normal human being who counsels women in need."
    Manolito shook his head. Could this be the truth? "Impossible. You are no stranger to me. You are the other half of me. My soul recognizes yours. We are sealed as one. You belong to me and me to you." He pushed an impatient hand through his long, silky hair, then reached back to tie it with a leather thong he drew from his pocket.
    Maniacal laughter slid into his head, so that he whipped around, scanning in every direction, his body language changing to protective. He leapt the distance separating them and placed her behind him.
    "What is it?"
    "You did not hear anything?" He knew what was out there. The vampires emerging slowly out of the shadows to stare with pitiless eyes and gaping maws for mouths, to point bony fingers in accusation at him.
    MaryAnn listened but only heard the annoying call of cicadas and other insects. Who knew they'd be so loud.
    She shook her head, feeling her heart break for him. "Tell me, Manolito. You look so sad. You should never be sad." She willed him to be happy. To go back to being furious and smoldering instead of lost and lonely.
    He turned then, catching her upper arms and dragging her close, staring down into her guileless face and meeting her eyes for one long, endless minute. He raised one hand to her face. The pad of his thumb slid along her high cheekbone, regret etching deep lines around his eyes

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