Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

survive. Riley gripped his shoulders, keening softly into the
     night. She threw her head back as her body pulsed and throbbed. His mouth left little
     flames up and down both thighs, his teeth nipping, his tongue easing the sting while
     she held on to her sanity by a thread.
    He raised his head, his hands on her bare hips, his warm breath teasing the vee of
     curls at the junction of her legs. “Pesämet andam.” Still retaining possession of her hips, he stood, fully clothed, making her feel
     all the more vulnerable and sexy. “I give you my protection.” His hands slid to her
     waist and he walked her backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed and her
     legs buckled.
    Dax guided her down to the bed, helping her to lie on her back. Riley felt caught
     in an erotic dream. His hands were gentle as he positioned her on the soft silken
     sheets, but so firm and strong, she felt as if she couldn’t move, her body molten
     lead, heated beyond the ability to do anything but wait in desperation.
    Above her, the mist hovered like a white blanket, swirling into shapes of glittering
     stars, great constellations untouched by the thick ash that still hovered in the air
     just beyond the clouds of vapor. She knew Dax had created that beautiful outdoor ceiling
     for her. The wind touched her heated skin, the cool brush against her burning skin
     only adding to the urgency of need.
    He grasped her ankles and pulled her legs apart, exposing her most vulnerable entrance
     to him. Again, his hands were gentle, but his grip unbreakable should she have tried
     to twist away. Her gaze jumped to his face.
    “Uskolfertiilamet andam . ” He swept his shirt over his head and tossed it away. “I give you my allegiance.”
    Riley felt her heart jump toward him in response to his declaration. Something inside
     of her shifted. She could feel the difference, but there was a roar in her ears, blood
     pounding in tempo with his.
    One hand shackled her ankle, holding her still as he shed the rest of his clothes
     with a single thought as most of his kind usually did. Her gaze drifted from his face
     to his broad chest and flat stomach, lower still to his thick, long erection.
    Her eyes widened; her skin went from raging hot to ice-cold and then back to hot again.
     Both fists curled into the sheets to hold herself still as he lowered his head to
     kiss her calf. His lips felt cool against her skin, but sent those fingers of arousal
     skittering up her thigh. She nearly pulled her leg away, but his grip held her firm.
     His mouth moved higher, his kisses interspersed with little nips of his sharp teeth
     and languid licks from his velvet tongue.
    He paused for a moment, his lips against her inner thigh, his hair sliding over her
     damp opening so that streaks of lightning arced through her. “S��vamet andam.” His eyes met hers. “I give you my heart.”
    Air rushed out of her lungs. Besides being the sexiest man alive to her, the sincerity
     in his voice—in his eyes—mesmerized her. There was something much deeper, a tenderness,
     that made her weak. He was handing over his heart into her keeping. The idea of it
     was humbling to her. Dax was an ancient warrior, a different species altogether, more
     feral and powerful than the animals and yet he was giving himself into her keeping.
    He turned his head, a lazy languid motion, as if he had all the time in the world
     when she was clawing at the sheet and tossing her head, her body no longer her own.
    “Your scent is intoxicating,” he whispered against her mound, his warm breath adding
     to the tension coiling tighter and tighter.
    He was killing her slowly. Slowly. Every word he said. Every move he made. His touch.
     His mouth. His kisses. The feel of his body, so hard and unyielding against the softness
     of hers. He inhaled deeply once more and she realized that as the flowers in the field
     had taken on his scent for her, the strange petals held her scent for him.
    He lifted his head to look down at her, those red-orange flames tinged with gold now.
     She could see stark, raw hunger stamped in the lines of his face. So sensual. Her
     entire body seemed to clench, waiting, anticipating. She held her breath. Her heart
     seemed to stop.
    “Sielamet andam . ” The flames in his eyes leapt and burned with a fiery glow. “I give you my soul.”
    She was burning now, her head tossing back and forth on the sheet. She had his heart
     and soul. His allegiance. She wanted