Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

himself, she still didn’t have full trust in him. She hadn’t given herself over completely to him.

    He set her back on the woven rug, his hands skimming her body as he kissed her. When he lifted his head, she looked a little dazed, confused and even disappointed.

    “Good evening, Solange,” he greeted.

    Her half-smile turned to a frown when her gaze dropped to the heavy erection grazing her stomach. “I don’t understand. You clearly want me.”

    “Yes.” He smiled down at her, his thumb tracing that little frown on her face.

    “I want you.”

    “A little. Not enough. You have doubts, Solange.”

    Her gaze shifted from his, just a small flick, but it was enough to tell him he was right. She shook her head.
    “I do want you. My body is in a constant state of arousal.”

    That had been difficult for her to admit. He could tell she had to make a tremendous effort to tell him the truth, but he felt triumphant that she had. She was far closer to accepting him than he had realized.

    “As is mine,” he agreed. “The difference, kessake , is that I need to take care of your needs. You want to take care of your own needs as well.”

    She opened her mouth to protest and then abruptly closed it, her frown deepening. She studied his face and then her gaze drifted back to his very large, unashamed erection. “Isn’t it supposed to be mutual?”

    “Not for me. I need to feel your acceptance, Solange. In your mind, in your heart. In your very soul. When you burn to please me, when it is the only thing that matters to you, then I will know you accept me.”

    “I do accept you, Dominic.” Her lashes lowered and her bottom lip trembled slightly.

    He stroked his fingers down her cheek, infinitely gentle. “When I take your body, Solange, there can be no room for doubt in your mind. No matter what I ask of you, you will trust me enough to do it without question because you will know every single thought I have is for you. Your safety. Your health. Your comfort. If I made love to you now, it would satisfy your body, but you would still question whether I love you for yourself or because I have to.”

    She flinched. He’d definitely read her correctly. She was worried about that. She didn’t understand how he could fall in love with her. She didn’t even believe it was possible.

    “I’m not a nice person, Dominic.”

    He caught her chin in his hand and forced her head up until her green gaze met his. “Neither am I, Solange.
    Not in the way polite society would view me. I take lives just as you do. I make life-and-death decisions every day and have for centuries. I do not doubt myself in the way you do, perhaps because I have been chasing the undead for so long.”

    “It isn’t the same thing. Jaguar-men are my own people.”

    “I killed my best friend while I still had my emotions, Solange. And I would have killed Zacarias had you not interfered. You saved his life.”

    She sighed. “I just don’t want you to have a false impression of who I am.”

    He laughed softly. “I look into your mind and see a beautiful soul. You shine for me. Now get dressed in one of your robes and eat something. We will be hunting later.”

    She took a deep breath and let it out. Just as she turned, she brushed her fingers over his heavy erection. His cock jerked. Every nerve ending fired. She gave him a sassy smile and walked to the small alcove, and her hips held a definite enticing sway. He couldn’t stop the predatory smile.

    He watched as she pulled out the long red metallic duster. “The green one. I want to see if it matches your eyes.”

    “The green one?”

    There was a little hiccup in her voice. She wasn’t quite ready to put on a micromini and parade around in front of him with nothing else but the formfitting, ultra-revealing sheath. He was pushing her comfort zone, hard, but he wasn’t certain how much longer he could hold out. He had gone from wanting her trust to needing it.

    Solange moistened her lips, but didn’t turn around. She hesitated, but managed to force herself to put the red duster back and pull the green ladder dress out. It took a little wiggling to get it over her hips. The stretchy material clung to every curve. The ladder, made of thin strips, crept down the front and back, leaving much of her skin bare. The spaghetti straps settled onto her shoulders as if made for her, which, she realized, it had been. That gave her a little more confidence.

    She brushed out her