Primal Heat 04 - Forever in Darkness

my heart right out of my damn
body." Ian ripped at the button on her jeans and yanked them down, tearing
them off her feet with a fierceness that he'd never felt before. He'd never
needed anything the way he needed to be inside her. His entire soul was
straining at its boundaries, desperate to be released into her, to claim her as
his and connect them so tightly that she'd never be able to leave him again.
    He shoved her up against the wall
and kissed her again as he wrapped his hand around her left thigh and lifted
her leg over his hip. Her skin was so smooth, but it was burning with a heat
that matched the fire raging within him. He slipped his fingers inside her, and
swore when he felt how ready she was. "Jesus, Catherine—"
    "Ian," she gasped, as she
writhed from his invasion, her hips moving almost violently, as if she were as
unable to contain her response to him as he was unable to stop himself from
reacting to her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and he attacked her mouth
again, kissing her so fiercely it was almost violent.
    She grabbed his head and kissed him
back, her leg tight around his hip as if she could yank him closer and deeper,
as if his fingers plunged deep inside her couldn't begin to satisfy her. Damn
good thing, because it wasn't enough for him either. "I need to be inside
you," he whispered between kisses. "Now."
    "God, yes."
    Rightness roared through him, and
Ian grabbed her other leg and locked them around his hips. He broke the kiss,
pulling back enough to see her face. Her eyes opened and she locked gazes with him.
"I want you to know this is me," he said as he grabbed her hips and
adjusted them so he was pressing against her entrance. "You and me,
Catherine. You and me. Got it?"
    She nodded, her breath coming fast
and shallow, her hands digging into his shoulder. "You and me."
    "Say my name." He needed
to connect them, to lock them down, to bind them so tightly that she couldn't
get away from him again. He pressed harder against her entrance, every muscle
in his body straining not to enter her until he had what he wanted. Until it
was only about them. "Tell me it's me."
    Catherine's face softened, and for
a second, he felt like she'd become some angel sent from the heavens, there was
so much beauty in her eyes. Then she cupped his face and pulled him closer.
"Ian Fitzgerald," she whispered. "It's only you."
    Yes. Rightness surged
through him and he plunged deep inside her.
     
    * * *
    Alice almost screamed from the
surge of emotions that filled her as Ian drove into her. Desire raged through
her, a passion so intense that her muscles were trembling, and she couldn't
breathe. And it was more than that. A sense of connection, of everything being
exactly as it was supposed to be. Of her finally finding that place she'd been
searching for her entire life.
    Ian grasped her hips and began to
move inside her, devouring her with kisses so passionate they reached deep
inside her and claimed her very core. Her hips twisted, trying to get him
deeper, churning up sensations that rippled through her, evoking such desire
she could barely even hold onto him.
    "I've got you,
sweetheart," he promised, his voice rough against her lips. "I won't
let you fall. Just let it go." Then he thrust deep, and she was lost to
him, opening herself to him on every level. Her heart, her soul, her body, her spirit.
Everything was for him. And it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted him. She wanted it both ways. She wanted to feel his emotions, his desire, his
passion and his—
    Sudden lust flooded her, and she
gasped from the darkness that suddenly consumed her. Fierce, protective
passion. Ownership. Lust. And an aching despair so overwhelming it nearly tore
her soul apart. Ian's despair. She knew instantly that she was feeling Ian's
emotions, that he was pouring them into her exactly as she'd asked. There was
so much inside him. So much passion, so much strength, courage, and violence. He
was brimming with violence and darkness, the same kind that had tortured her
for so long, that haunted her at every turn.
    Demon violence.
    It was in him, thick and alive, and
fear began to ripple through her—
    "No." Ian broke the kiss,
and pulled back, stilling his hips as he met her gaze. "Feel what else is
inside me," he said. "That's not who I am."
    Alice began to tremble, but she
nodded, keeping her attention riveted to his face. His dark brown eyes, his
tousled hair, the whiskers on his jaw, the mouth that had