Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

terrible building pressure in her body.

    His hair swept her stomach as he kissed his way down, pausing for a just a moment to tease her belly button before he moved lower still. “This is why,” he murmured against her bare mound, “I do not want anything between my mouth and your skin. I want you to feel everything I can give you.”

    His hands cupped her bottom and he lifted her hips to his mouth, his tongue sweeping over her in a languid, almost lazy lick. She jumped, her cry shocking her. That desperate, needy sound couldn’t have been her.

    “Mmm. Delicious. You taste like nectar to me. I hope you enjoy yourself, kessake , because I have the feeling this will be a favorite pastime.”

    He took his time at first, a gentle, slow torment while he kissed and licked and explored until she was writhing under his mouth. His tongue plunged deep and the breath hissed out of her. And then he stroked that hard little button where every nerve ending centered. She nearly convulsed with rapture.

    Dominic feasted, exactly as if this were his favorite pastime. His expert tongue never stopped, and when he flicked and then suckled her clit, her shattered cries became pleas. He took his time, his fingers plunging deep while he lapped at her cream. Tremors rolled through her as she moaned brokenly, desperate for release. Her heart raced so fast, almost in time to the pulsing in her womb. Her body wound tighter and tighter until the sensation was nearly unbearable. She tried to push herself onto his mouth; her hips bucked uncontrollably. The hunger in her built and built with no end in sight. She was afraid she was going insane, thrashing on the table, her cries and pleas filling the room.

    His relentless mouth didn’t stop, his tongue flicking her small, inflamed button, fast and slow, then plunging deep to draw out more nectar, pushing her beyond every limit she’d ever considered, beyond any imagining. She sobbed, begged and promised him anything if he would just allow her release. Her hips rose pushing into his mouth helplessly. His torment was exquisite, a pleasure so deep it bordered on pain.

    “Dominic, please,” she pleaded. “I need . . .”

    Me. You need me.

    The words reverberated in her mind. He lifted his head and his eyes glittered, almost ruby red, a feral, dark promise nearly stopping her heart. Then he bent his head and sucked once more on her most sensitive spot, his tongue flicking hard and fast. Two fingers penetrated her and she choked, screaming as her body clamped down like a vise, the orgasm rolling over her fast and hard, so that her back arched and her hips ground against his hand.

    Tears rolled down her face, and when she lifted her hand to wipe them away, he moved over her. He brushed the sweat from her skin as if it had never been there, tasting her tears as if they were a fine wine, stroking back her damp hair while she came down from the earth-shattering ripples of pure bliss. He was infinitely gentle, so tender she felt wrapped in a cocoon of love when she had long ago forgotten there was such a thing. He was giving her something beyond price, and it wasn’t the rapture of his lovemaking. He made her feel hope again.

    His soothing voice whispered to her, telling her how beautiful she was. When she found the energy she lifted her hand and traced the lines in his face, the small webbing of scars that ran down to his shoulder.

    “I feel like I’m in the middle of one of those fairy tales my aunt used to tell us.” Her voice trembled, her lashes were wet and spiky and her mouth quivered. “Are you real, Dominic? Do I dare believe in you?”

    He lifted her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. “Yes.”

    She stared into his compelling eyes. He didn’t move or speak. Just waited. She was coming to know him now. He didn’t mind the time it took for her to figure things out. If she needed time, he provided it.
    Something inside her shifted. She felt a little exposed; that small nugget of trust was taking hold, and it made her so vulnerable to him. She’d never allowed herself to need anyone; it was too easy for death to take them. She’d learned that lesson at a very early age. No one was safe. Not parents, not baby brothers.
    Not best friends. No one. If she dared to love them, they soon were torn from her.

    “You didn’t let me give back to you,” she whispered.

    “You have given me more than you can know, kessake . You are exhausted. We will rest now, and