Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

accelerated pulse.
    “Carrying you off would not be right for you. For some women, yes, but you, my kessake , my little cat—
    you require seduction. Finesse. Loving. I have to earn your trust, and I would not want it any other way.”

    Her gaze jumped to his face when he tugged and rolled her nipples between his finger and thumb. He left behind a minty oil that began generating heat at the very tips of her breasts.

    “Does that feel good, Solange? Your body is sexy, a temptation that is getting more difficult to resist. You are very responsive, and that is so seductive to me.”

    He bent his head and the long fall of silky midnight black hair spilled over her chest, teasing her senses as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth and stroked with his tongue. She heard herself whimper, a soft, breathy sound that came close to a plea. He cupped both breasts, turned his head and found her other, woefully neglected nipple and drew it into his mouth, giving her left breast the same, unhurried loving attention. Pleasure was so intense she shook, her hips moving restlessly.

    His hands stroked down her rib cage and over her belly. He found the tight little muscles and began his slow, leisurely massage. “Do you see, Solange, that you are the only woman in my world? The one woman who can choose life or death for me. You are the center of my world and you always will be. When I tell you that your pleasure is mine, I mean that literally. I can feel your body’s response. I can feel your mind relax just as your muscles do, and it pleases me that I am the one, the only one, who can do that for you. I am the man your body responds to and your mind accepts.”

    His fingers slipped lower to her mound, massaged ever so gently, stroked lightly over her damp sex and moved to her inner thighs. Her breath exploded in a ragged rush as his hands continued that bone-melting kneading of her tight muscles. All the way down her calves to her feet, he kept kneading and stroking until she simply melted there on the table.

    His hand on her shoulder urged her to turn over. She could barely summon the strength, already drifting in a state of arousal and relaxation. She turned her head to one side as he stretched out her arms by her sides and began work on her shoulders with his clever fingers.

    “Why did you say I can’t accompany you when you go to the gathering of the vampires, when you know I won’t be able to stay away?” She murmured the words, her lashes falling as his hands went to her back.

    He was using an oil of some sort. It smelled a little minty, and as he applied it, rubbing it into her muscles, heat spread. She wasn’t certain if it was the oil, his hands or her body’s response, but deep inside her core, her temperature soared. He worked down each arm and then down her lower back until she was nearly purring. A pure jaguar couldn’t purr, but her species could, thankfully, and right now would be an appropriate moment.

    “You cannot be close to me—or to them. The moment the parasites sense you they will go quiet and they’ll know either you or Brodrick is near. We will need a good plan.”

    She rubbed her cheek against the soft padding of the table. “That’s what you were trying to tell me, but I jumped to conclusions.”

    “I have given some thought to how I phrased it. Perhaps I could have chosen my words more carefully.”

    His hands on the small of her back felt wonderful. “I think you were being who you are, Dominic. You were named well. You have dominant tendencies. Unfortunately, although I doubt I was born with them, I’ve developed them.”

    “Your fighting skills are extraordinary, as is your courage in battle,” he acknowledged.

    His praise sent a warm glow through her. His hands moved lower, to her buttocks, working deep in the muscle, kneading thoroughly until her body was limp. He took a few moments to stroke gentle caresses over her lush curves before his hands moved her thighs apart. She thought of protesting; she was already aroused beyond what she thought she could bear. But this time he started with her feet, so she submitted, thinking herself safe.

    How many times had she limped her way back to this cave, cold and bloody and sore, and wished just for this one thing—a massage. She remembered telling her dream man how she often fantasized about a massage. It warmed her that he remembered and cared enough to give her this amazing experience. She’d never felt so pampered in