Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

else, yet something in him had needed to mark her, to leave his scent, evidence of their mating. He brushed the hair from her shoulder and touched the small wound there. Carpathian males left pinpricks, maybe a strawberry, and he had left such a mark on her breast the first time he had ever taken her blood. The wound on her shoulder was something altogether different. Puzzled, he focused his gaze on it. It had been made with his canines.
    MaryAnn turned her head to look at the mark as well, a small frown on her face. Why in the world had she found it sexy when he had held her like that? "I think you must have put some sort of spell on me."
    "I believe it was the other way around."
    "Did you?" she asked suspiciously. "Because Destiny can do that sort of thing. Get inside minds and influence them."
    "Merge with me again and I will see what kind of influence I have. This time, I think I will have you kneeling at my feet, taking my cock into your hot, very sexy mouth." His hand stroked her throat, the pads of his fingers caressing. His body hardened all over again at the thought, pressing tightly against her, jerking at the erotic fantasy. "I might not live through it, but I am more than willing to sacrifice for the experiment."
    She should have been alarmed, but the thought of exploring his body, of driving him over the edge, of him commanding her to give him that kind of pleasure and her robbing him of control, sent a coil of excitement spiraling through her body. His tongue was flicking at her shoulder, teeth nipping, and already her body responded with those light quakes that spread up her belly to her breasts.
    "Maybe I'm the one influencing you," she said. "You're always telling me I'm the one merging with you."
    "Of course you influence me. I am reading your every fantasy and sharing mine with you." His hands cupped her breasts and teased her nipples before sliding down the curve of her body to her buttocks. He began a slow, rhythmic massage. "When I come for you, tomorrow night, wear something feminine."
    She gasped, outraged. "I always wear feminine clothing. I have the best taste in clothes. I can't believe you insulted me like that."
    Male amusement gleamed in his eyes. "I apologize, meu amor , if you took that the wrong way. You are always beautifully dressed. I am old-fashioned and would prefer a dress or skirt." His hand slid up to her belly, fingers splayed wide. He rubbed in gentle circles, sliding lower, even as his voice turned husky. "Aside from showing off your beautiful body to its utmost advantage, I would be able to touch you like this so easily."
    His fingers slid lower still, found warm, welcoming moisture waiting. "I want your body available to my touch. I look at you and want to slide my palm over your skin. There is nothing like it in this world."

    His fingers slid over her cleft, making her gasp. Her thighs clenched. Her womb spasmed, and just like that she was his. Every thought of resistance was gone. His fingers stroked and teased and began an intimate exploration all over again. His rough whispers in her ear only heightened her senses and nerve endings and increased her need of him.
    Morning rays of sunshine crept in through the window, and light illuminated the stark arousal etched into his face. He rolled onto his back and simply lifted her so that she straddled him. She gasped as she looked down at his erection. It seemed impossible that she could take him inside of her, but her body burned and pulsed and wept for him. He positioned her thighs on either side of his hips, pushing the broad head of his cock into her. His smile was genuine, white teeth flashing at her, black eyes gleaming with something close to joy as she settled over him.
    He drove right through her tight folds until he was seated deep inside her where he belonged. He brought her hands to his shoulders so she could brace herself as he began to move, to fill her, this time slow and easy so she could feel every stroke when she was already so sensitized.
    She began to move to the rhythm herself as his hands guided her to ride him in a slow, sensual slide. He stretched her slowly, steel encased in velvet, moving through the tight, clenching muscles until the friction robbed her of breath—of sanity. It was different from the wild possession of before, but no less pleasurable.
    And there was something decadent in sitting on him while his gaze followed the sway of her breasts and his eyes focused on her with such hot lust