Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

him, giving him everything she was, and yet it was another man who took her wrist.

    At the last second, as that hot breath touched her skin and she saw the length of those fangs, she felt panic and nearly jerked her arm away. Before she could move, Dominic bit down into her neck and the crashing pain turned instantly to a pleasure so intense she cried out, her body reacting with a tidal wave of pure fire.
    She had experienced the heat of her cat many times, a purely physical drive that didn’t touch her beyond the abstract. But this—this was all encompassing. Every nerve ending felt raw with desire.

    Her womb spasmed. Heat rose between her legs and her nipples tightened into hard, desperate peaks. The fire burned her skin, her insides, poured like molten gold through her body until she writhed against him, unable to control herself. Solange, who had so much control. Solange, who despised men, was giving herself body and soul to this man and his needs—not just his needs, his every desire. A small sob escaped.

    Dominic had never imagined that anything could have been so erotic as taking his lifemate’s blood. To him, the act of taking or giving blood had always been mundane, a necessity with no particular feeling attached to it, not even before he’d lost his emotions. He was unprepared for the need slamming wicked and low, a hard punch of arousal that shook his deadly calm as nothing else ever had. He was disciplined and controlled. It had never occurred to him that once he held Solange in his arms and his teeth connected them, the act of taking her blood would be as intimate as taking her body or her mind.

    He was in such a state of arousal, it felt to him as if he was sharing her with another man in an extremely intimate act—something he would never do. She was his to protect, to love and cherish. He didn’t want another man to see her vulnerable or afraid or sexy, and right at that moment, he found her the most sensual being on earth. That part of her belonged solely to him. Had he realized what taking her blood would be like, he would never, under any circumstances, have forced her to give Zacarias blood.

    And he had forced her—or at least coerced her. He knew she found the idea repugnant, yet Zacarias was family to her. She lived by her sense of code, her honor, her duty. She would not have forgiven herself for denying him in his moment of need. She would have dwelt on her refusal in the long hours of the day when Dominic couldn’t comfort her. He had a code, too, and that code was to provide his lifemate with everything she needed, even if that meant stretching her limits beyond what she thought she could handle.

    But this might be stretching his limits beyond what he could handle. She had been a warrior to Zacarias, but Dominic had seen her vulnerable. Her vulnerability was beautiful to him and that she would show it to him was an honor. It brought out his every protective instinct, and the beast prowling inside of him roared for her. Not simply the physical mating, but the completeness of what a lifemate was. She needed. He provided. He needed. She provided. Each was dedicated solely to the other.

    But this—this shocking reaction of body and mind—was nearly his undoing. Her blood swept into his body and the parasites cowered before it, more than they had with Zacarias’s pure Carpathian blood. They retreated, became quiet, hiding from the royal jaguar blood as if afraid of the fierce fighting cat. As her blood spread through his system, the internal fire started, a great sweeping storm that burned hot and fast and out of control.

    Her body moved against his, inflaming his already rock-hard groin. He didn’t want to stop; his hand stroked the underside of her breast, although what he wanted—no, needed —was to feel her silken skin against his. Her small sob brought him up short. Restored control. Order. An awareness of where he was and what was happening around him. He’d been so far into the throes of madness, he was astonished as he took a slow lick across the pinprick holes and followed the ruby-red drops of blood down her shoulder. He straightened slowly, breathing her in, absorbing the feel of her small, curvy body tight against him. Nothing had ever felt so right to him.

    Aware of her growing fear, he pressed his mouth to her pulse, wanting only to calm and comfort her. His little wildcat had a feminine side she considered submissive, and it terrified her. It was up to him