Carpathian 20 - Dark Slayer

desire, sweet and hot, piercing through her core, and she buried her face against his neck, stroking with her tongue, nipping with her teeth, reveling in the way his body shuddered in reaction.
    His fingers found her inner thigh. Stroked. Took the breath from her body. His leg forced her thighs open to him, the rough material rubbing over her skin as she bucked helplessly into him, nearly sobbing with need.
    â€œAre you wet for me, fél ku kuuluaak sÃvam belsÅ‘ —beloved?―
    His voice was a black velvet seduction in her ear. A blatant, wicked temptation.
    â€œAre you?― He sounded like pure sin.
    She tugged frantically at his shirt, desperate to get at him, as need clawed at her. She ached, her feminine sheath coiled tight with building tension, frantic for release, for him to fill the clutching emptiness. She managed to shove his shirt off his body and couldn’t stand anything between them, not even for another second. She stripped him with magic, with frenzied, almost violent haste.
    One hand fisted in her hair, dragged her head back to expose her throat to rake gently with his teeth. He bit down and her womb clenched. He trailed fiery kisses over her neck, and then his mouth was ravaging her breasts, his teeth and tongue sending molten fire racing through her blood. His hand slipped over her thigh, caressed and stroked the soft inner skin, moving higher, knuckles brushing the damp mound at the junction there.
    Ivory inhaled sharply. Went still. Her breath caught in her lungs.
    Just stayed trapped there, burning and raw. Razvan pulled his head back and stared into her eyes. She drowned there.
    Holding her gaze captive, he plunged his fingers into her tight, wet channel. Ivory’s eyes widened. She heard the surprised wail escaping her throat, dizzy with shock.
    Razvan thrust into her mind so he could feel her response, her reactions guiding his every move. She didn’t know if she could stand feeling both of them, the ravenous hunger, the building fire leaping between them.
    Still looking at her, Razvan dropped to his knees. He lowered his gaze in a slow, possessive study of her body, watching her flush with arousal, all the while his fingers plunged deep. Her scent called to him as she rode his hand, almost sobbing. Very slowly he removed his fingers and licked at them, savoring the exotic taste of her. She moaned and the sound vibrated through his heavy erection so that he pulsed with urgent need. He ignored his own body’s reaction, desperate for the taste of her.
    Desperate . He was desperate for her taste. That alone was enough to undo her, that this man, kneeling at her feet, looking like a fallen angel, could be so desperate for her taste, for the hot cream spilling out to welcome him.
    He kept her thighs spread with his hands and took her with his mouth, his tongue sliding through the satin-soft heat. She shuddered. Caught his hair with both fists and yanked, the biting pain thickening his shaft even more. His name was strangled, cut off as she lost her ability to breathe when he licked at her like a hungry wolf.
    The rasp of his tongue was too much. Her knees weakened and her body coiled too tight, burned too hot, clenching and rippling with shocking intensity. She cried out his name again, trying to say stop , but not wanting this to ever end. It mattered little; he was beyond hearing, his blood thundering in his ears, the taste of her driving him wild. He ate at her like a starving wolf, his tongue stroking, lapping and then suckling her clit, plunging deep and then flicking at the hard nub while she bucked and thrust against his mouth in a mindless, fiery explosion.
    Ivory screamed. She’d never screamed in her life. Not when Draven caught her. Not when the vampires had attacked.
    Never. Not once. But the pleasure bordered on ecstasy, roaring through her belly and rippling through her womb, wave after wave, so that she clung to his shoulders for support while the tidal wave burst through her.
    Razvan lifted her then, cradling her in his arms, taking her to the soft bed in the chamber, weaving and floating a silken sheet to lay her on. He came down with her, spreading her legs a second time, his mouth latching on to her, tongue stabbing deep to drive her up a second time. She wept, digging her nails into his back, trying desperately to hold on to sanity as he took her up fast. She heard herself pleading, for what she didn’t even know, and