Christine feehan - Dark Slayer 20

«I doubt you have anything to worry about. You are very… inventive.»

Her hand drifted to the inside of his thigh, slid higher, between his legs, to cup his heavy erection. He reacted almost helplessly, pushing his hips into her hand, throbbing and hot, swelling against her palm until her fist was a tight glove surrounding as much of him as possible. Her thumb stroked caresses over the broad, sensitive mushroom head, smearing the tempting pearl drop over the soft, hot tip. She watched the shudder move through him with hot eyes-eyes that sent his temperature soaring even higher.

Her fingers on his skin felt like heaven, the stroking caresses wiping out every ugly memory from his past, so that there was only Ivory and his world with her. Tactile. Erotic. Sensory. His world instantly became one of feeling. His mouth moved over hers. Drank in the taste of her. Nectar. Sweet with just a bite of spice.

«I might like to see you breathe fire,» she whispered into his mouth.

Her tongue tangled with his and his shaft jerked and swelled more against the tight fist of her hand. He deepened the kiss, the hunger blossoming with such urgent demand he felt edgy and a little desperate for her. It might have had something to do with the way her hand moved over his heavy erection and her mouth suckled at his tongue as if it was his shaft.

«No, you would not, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved. You like me the way I am.»

She laughed softly, the sound low and wicked, and then she was kissing her way down his throat and chest, pushing him back, rising above him to nip at his belly with sharp little teeth. His breath hitched in his throat. That long, thick, silken braid dragged over his body, adding to the sensual sensations, robbing him of breath and reason. He reached up and tugged loose the tie so he could let it cascade over his body.

She was so sexy, her hair a little wild and disheveled, all soft skin and lush curves with that wonderful steel running beneath it. The combination always aroused him past sanity. His body ached and his heavy erection thickened and hardened somewhere in that subspace between pain and ultimate pleasure whenever she moved over him, her touch rubbing over his hot skin like velvet.

Her tongue licked along his skin, a cat lapping at cream, while her fingers stroked and caressed, drawing the essence from him. Her breath was warm on the head of his shaft and he felt every muscle tighten, but he didn't let himself move. He resisted the urge to catch her head and pull it down over his fiercely burning erection. The anticipation of her mouth, soft and hot and made for heaven, added to the tightening of his body and the need growing like an addiction in his blood.

He loved seeing her eyes, the glazed, dazed look that said she was falling into that same well of need and hunger, yet was still a little shocked and surprised that she could be so helplessly in love. Her hands trembled just that little bit, and as her breasts moved, soft and delicious and so tempting, fingers of arousal teased his thighs and danced over his shaft.

He waited. Holding his breath. Her hair pooled on his hips and thighs. He closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of her breath bathing his pulsing erection, the satisfying jerk of reaction, swelling more. Indulgent and lazy. He loved her generosity. The complete way she loved him, not in words, but with this, bringing him pleasure, just the giving of herself to him. That alone was the biggest turn-on to him, that ultimate gift that she gave completely and generously-she wanted his pleasure as much as or more than she wanted her own.

Her tongue flicked out and he groaned, lifting his hips helplessly, following her hot mouth, but she pulled away. Her palm cupped his aching balls, rolled and teased, her tongue sending streaks of fire shuddering through his body when she lavished attention, licking her way back up to his shaft.

His breath stopped. His heart missed a beat, and then began to pound. The roar in his head increased and he swore a jackhammer pounded there. His groin felt like a steel spike. He groaned, a soft, husky sound that seemed to compel her to action. She caught his hip in one hand, her fingers digging deep while the fingers of her other hand wrapped around him like a vise. He heard her heart match his own pounding beat. Heard the rush of her blood through her veins like the swell of a tidal wave. He swore in the ancient language, his voice not his own, but hoarse and desperate, and hungry with demand.

She licked him. Licked the broad mushroom head, swirling her tongue over that firm, velvet-soft tip and savoring the pearly drops he leaked in anticipation. His entire body tightened, shuddered, and this time he growled, the sound low, filled with lust while his vision went hazy. «O kod belso-darkness take it. Ivory, you might kill me.»

He had to be in her mouth, in that tight, moist, secret haven. He caught fistfuls of her hair and pushed her head down on him, needing her desperately, unable to wait a moment longer.

Ivory kept her eyes on his, watching the changes in him, drinking them in, glorying in her ability to shake his usual calm. She loved it when he went all demonic on her, growling and bunching her hair in his hands, dragging her closer, thrusting his hips helplessly. She reveled in the way his eyes went from midnight blue to intense black. The way the stripes in his hair deepened. There was something very exhilarating and intensely sexy about the growls rumbling in his chest, the bunch of the muscles in his jaw, that little tic that made her know he was completely gone into another realm.

They were going out this night to hunt the most dangerous enemy the Carpathian people-the world-had ever known, and either might never return. Determination to show him how she felt, what he meant to her, what he brought to her, was in every mesmerizing stroke of her tongue and caress of her fingers. She engulfed his shaft completely, drawing him deep, hollowing her cheeks to tighten the suction around his hard flesh.

He moaned when her teeth scraped gently and her tongue swirled up his shaft to tease at the ultrasensitive spot beneath the flared head. She pulled her head back until her lips were barely skimming over him, watching him, watching his eyes go wide in pleasure, watching his breath come in ragged, harsh gasps.

«Ivory.» There was demand in his voice.

Gone was her slow, smooth lover, the one who took his time taking her over and over the edge, always in complete control, always the one to give so generously and drive her beyond anything she'd ever known. Joy burst through her and she swallowed him, taking him deep, feeling his entire body react, feeling him shudder again as intense pleasure vibrated through him.

The muscles in his thighs jumped with arousal, his stomach bunched in reaction, the heavy muscles of his chest rippled while his arms flexed. But it was his shaft, jerking and pulsing in her mouth, growing thicker even than he'd ever been, that thrilled her. She loved the way he stretched her lips, reveled in the way the hot length of him felt on her tongue, even the way he thrust in short, staccato bursts deeper down her throat where her muscles squeezed and massaged and milked him.

She had planned this moment, this giving to him, this taking, wanting the raw pleasure for him, the helpless, mindless ecstasy where he didn't have to worry about her or what she was feeling, but only taking what she gave him, what she offered to him. Heat flared through her when his teeth came together like that of a hungry wolf.

He shifted, floating them to the floor, his hands holding her head still while he thrust down her mouth, his eyes narrowed now, watching her throat work, watching the beauty of the woman now at his feet, kneeling in supplication, her eyes locked with his.