Carpathian 20 - Dark Slayer

body.
    â€œHe broke your wrist.―
    How had he noticed when he had been so horribly mutilated?
    Ivory shook her head, unable to speak, not when his gaze moved over her body with brooding allure, touching her in places deep and secret and feminine.
    He had to quit reciting the list of her injuries, so pale in comparison to his own. His voice was so gentle, she couldn’t get it out of her head. The way he looked at her body when he spoke, as if her injuries were all that mattered to him, the healing of them, the fact that the vampire had hurt her. When she touched his mind, she felt nothing but his need to make certain, to see for himself, that she was wholly healed.
    â€œMother Earth and the healer aided me, and several Carpathians including the prince gave us blood to speed our healing process. I am fine.―
    â€œNevertheless.―
    There was a note in his voice that fascinated, thrilled and repelled her all at once. She was unsure how to react to his demand and that confused her.
    â€œWhat would you have me do?―
    He held out his hand to hers. “Let me see.―

    She moistened her lips, feeling a little shaky, on unfamiliar ground, but she held out her hand to him so he could see the faint lines where the earth had healed the lacerations and knit the bone back together. She was unprepared for the feeling of his gentle fingers stroking over her skin. She felt his touch all the way to her deepest core, and then her heart stood still while his mouth moved over each of the faint white lines and his tongue swirled and stroked a velvet pleasure over her skin.
    â€œYou do taste like salt and sin,― he said, and his voice roughened with hunger.
    She pulled her arm away. “Are you satisfied?―
    He shook his head, his gaze locked on hers. “Open your vest.―
    Her breath actually hitched in her lungs, burned there, raw and hot. Her womb clenched and spasmed, sending ripples of urgent need radiating through her body. His request wasn’t sexual. It didn’t need to be sexual. Her body didn’t have to grow damp and hot with flames licking over her skin and turning her blood into a molten stream that thickened in her veins. She could just be cool about this, one warrior reassuring another. Her hands went to the silver buckles.
    â€œLet me.―
    His voice was husky, maybe even shook a little, but it made her weak. So much so that she obeyed his silent command when his hands came up and covered hers to halt her unsteady fingers and gently push them aside. The pads of his fingers brushed against the swell of her breast, sending ripples of awareness through her body. His gaze remained locked with hers as he slowly unbuckled the vest and allowed her full breasts to emerge. Only then did he drop his gaze.
    She heard him inhale. A sharp, sexy sound that curled her toes.
    She felt his breath warm her breasts, and her nipples answered by hardening into two tight peaks. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but she couldn’t move, mesmerized by the look on his face, the stark, raw desire, the unrelenting hunger and admiration in his eyes. When he stroked his fingertips, feather-light, over the faint lines along the swell of her breast and then again lower, his thumb brushing along her nipple, lightning streaked from breast to belly and then lower, so that her thighs spasmed and her core grew hotter and wetter.
    Razvan bent his head toward her. She wanted to stop him. She thought to take a step back, terrified of the feelings coursing through her body and the sudden terrible need that welled up out of nowhere, threatening her hard-won peace of mind. She had chosen him, but she hadn’t considered that the physical and emotional pull between them would be so strong. She could barely breathe when he touched her, and she had no control over her body’s reaction to him. She held her breath, waiting. Wanting.
    His hair touched her first. Soft strands of black and white silk brushing seductively over her skin. Every cell in her body came to life. The breath burned in her lungs. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she struggled not to bury them in his hair and cradle his head to her. She was in his mind, and knew this inspection was as necessary to him as breathing. And now it was to her.
    At the first gentle touch of his mouth she jumped, and in spite of her every intention, she found her hands buried in that silky fall of hair.