Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

arms, cradling her to him. Beloved Solange. She looked excited, sexy and fearful all at the same time. His every protective instinct surged to the forefront. The mixture of sensual woman, as desperate for him as he was for her, combined with innocent inexperience only added to his need to be tender. He had expected, with the intensity of her cat’s heat, that she would be very experienced in her lovemaking, but it was clear that she wasn’t.

    Love was nearly overwhelming, threatening to drive him to his knees. She had no idea of her beauty or her appeal to him. Carpathians saw what was inside. The body was simply a shell. Perhaps because they could shift into any form they chose, the outside mattered little to them. But he could see into her heart and mind, and he’d fallen deeply in love. Solange was exactly the woman for him, with her fierce loyalty, her unfailing courage and her natural sensuality.

    He had waited for so long, so many centuries, until all hope for this one woman had faded. He held her cradled against his bare chest, hardly able to comprehend that she was his at last. His body ached for her, hot blood pounding through his groin, his cock a constant, heavy ache that refused to go away. Her skin, all that soft expanse of silk and satin, drove him to the brink of madness. He’d been patient, waiting for her to give herself to him, to trust him enough, but the demons raging in Carpathian males had never quieted, never given him peace, demanding he bind her to him, claim her for his own.

    Her hands smoothed over his chest, small, just a whisper of a touch as he laid her gently on the bed. He was so shaken with need, he’d nearly forgotten a bed. He caught her small moan in his mouth as he kissed her, her silken hair bunched in his hand. He allowed himself the luxury of getting lost in the sensations of Solange as he kissed her again and again. Hot silk, a promise of things to come. Her fantastic mouth, moving against his, all honey and spice and uniquely her.

    A fever of love and desire raged in his body. Dominic Dragonseeker, perfectly controlled and disciplined, could no longer control his own temperature. He wanted her so much he could barely breathe. Discipline and control were his way of life. It was a unique experience to burn inside and out, to have his heart pounding in his chest and cock, to tremble from sheer need of a woman—need of a lifemate.

    He loved the way she looked beneath him, her eyes so dazed and hungry, desire naked on her face. The flush that spread over her body delighted him. Her breasts were beautiful in the candlelight, a temptation he couldn’t resist. He lowered his head, his hair sliding over her body so that she writhed beneath him, her nerve endings already inflamed.

    Her breathy little whimpers drove him mad, and he wanted—needed—more. His mouth closed around the soft swell of her breast and drew her nipple inside. A tremor ran through her and she cried out, a soft, broken little sound that nearly shattered his last remnants of control. He loved her soft, inviting breasts, and mostly he loved her reaction when he tugged and rolled her nipple with his teeth and fingers. Her body strained toward him, writhed under his assault, and he couldn’t help but merge minds so he could feel every sensation pouring through her body. Beneath him, her stomach muscles bunched and her head tossed wildly on the pillow. Her hips bucked, seeking his body.

    He suckled, encouraging her soft little moans of helpless pleasure. Heat rushed through her veins and he actually felt the spasm in her womb.

    “Dominic.” She whispered his name, over and over, her hands fisting in his hair, holding him to her.

    The needy sound in her voice drove his temperature up a few more degrees until he thought it might be possible to burn from the inside out. He took his time, lovingly lavishing attention on her breasts, teasing and tugging, his tongue dancing, pulling strongly with his mouth and gently laving, giving tiny nips and easing the sting with a caressing stroke of his tongue.

    One hand slid over her flat stomach, feeling the muscles there rippling and bunching in arousal. Her heart drummed beneath his mouth, a frantic, rhythmic beat that called to his blood. Fangs filled his mouth unbidden, the temptation overriding every discipline. He licked along the creamy swell of her breast and bit gently. She went utterly still.

    He raised his head to capture her gaze with his. Her