Christine Feehan - Dark Curse 19

Lara patted her hair, surprised that it was down in a long freefall of red-gold silk. She glanced up at the tall handsome man who made her feel beautiful. His male beauty struck her, a mixture of danger, animal and pure sensual male. She swallowed the sudden need rising and managed a quick smile. «Did you remember makeup, too?»

He tangled his fingers with hers and brought his hand in a possessive gesture to his chest as they entered the lobby area where even the villagers often gathered for drinks. «Of course.»

As close to him as she was, she instantly felt the difference in him. The moment they stepped inside where there were others, he went from her gentleman to fiercely, primitive male. It happened in a heartbeat. He even smelled different, a combination of musk, spice and wild outdoors. The cut of his mouth was sensual, yet held a cruel, warning edge. His heavy-lidded eyes brooded, drifting over the competition as if marking each man. The hand at the small of her back was distinctly possessive. He even moved that scant fraction of space closer to her, so that he seemed to be everywhere, dominating her space.

Or maybe the difference was in her. She was intensely aware of the darkly handsome man prowling at her side, all raw sexuality and power. Women turned their heads and stared at him with greedy eyes. Their gazes followed her with some disdain and a lot of envy. She was certain she didn't look woman enough to handle a man as blatantly sexual as Nicolas.

The moment she thought it, he brushed across her body with warm air, as if he'd breathed on her bare skin. Her nipples tightened and heat rushed through her bloodstream. She glanced up at his face, at the raw hunger in his dark eyes each time his gaze slid over her. She touched her tongue to her lower lip and instantly his gaze was riveted there.

«You have to stop,» she whispered, a blush creeping up her neckline to bring color into her face. «You're making me…» She broke off, hardly able to breathe properly. She'd never felt quite like this before-excited-sexy-wanted. It was amazing and practically incomprehensible that she could draw the undivided and completely focused attention of a man like Nicolas De La Cruz. She wasn't adventurous. She wasn't beautiful. She certainly wasn't sexy, although he made her feel that way and it was a little intoxicating.

She was all too conscious of his fingers splayed wide just above the curve of her spine. Heat spread from every pinpoint as they crossed the bar to the dining room. Music pulsed in the bar and a few couples swayed to the beat, holding each other more than they danced. A few feet from the arched entrance, Nicolas stopped abruptly, his fingers settling around her wrist to swing her in front of him.

Her breath caught in her lungs as he pulled her into his arms. She fit perfectly, her body going soft so that she melted into him, so close she was nearly sharing his skin. Hard muscles rippled and prowled, a heated, seductive slide that sent a shiver of awareness down her spine and had her breasts aching. She felt the hard bulge pressing tight into her stomach, the thick, unashamed evidence of his desire for her. Her mouth went dry and her stomach muscles knotted.

Nicolas bent his head, his lips skimming her exposed neck and the pulse beating frantically in rhythm with the music. «Relax for me.» His voice was rough with a mixture of seduction and lust, almost as if he was

making love to her instead of dancing with her.

His tone sent a million butterflies winging in the pit of her stomach. Moisture dampened her thighs and sent an electrical current spiraling through her body. It was her first real experience with such an overwhelming sexual reaction and her emotions were all over the place. Every single nerve ending seemed to have flared into life. Every cell was very aware of Nicolas moving so close to her.

«I don't know how to… I've never…» She didn't know whether she was telling him she'd never danced and had no idea what she was doing, or whether she was trying to tell him she'd never had sex and didn't know the first thing about tempting a man.

Nicolas tightened his hold on her, his arm locking her against him as they executed several intricate dance steps across the floor. She felt as if she was floating in the clouds, light and airy and in perfect tune with him.

«You are temptation itself.» His lips brushed against her earlobe as he whispered the words.

Teeth nipped, the smallest of bites, leaving her breathless. Arousal fingered her breasts, her thighs and teased at the junction between her legs. He was seducing her, there on the dance floor, and she didn't even want to resist. She touched her tongue to her lower lip, fighting nerves, determined to see this night through.

She wanted him, wanted to belong to him, in spite of his arrogance and domineering ways. When her mind was merged with his, she could see his determination to learn, to make her happy, to be the man she needed. How could she not want him? Aside from that, she found him the sexiest man alive.

He turned her, brought her back into the shelter of his body and just the way he did it, so commanding, strong and protective, sent another rush of heat surging through her bloodstream. His scent enveloped her, the spicy male tang that was exclusively his mixed with the scent of musky male arousal making for a potent combination. The slide of his hands caressed the sides of her breasts, her rib cage and tucked in waist before settling over her hips to pull her tighter against him.

Another surge of moist heat dampened her thighs. Her breasts ached, felt swollen and needy. Every muscle tightened to the point of strain. She couldn't think anymore, swaying to the throbbing music on a rising tide of desire, in a hazy fog of sexual enthrallment.

He bent his head again, this time to nuzzle her neck, his tongue touching the pulse pounding so frantically. Ordinarily she would have instantly retreated, but the small series of licks accompanied by the gentle scrape of teeth sent her temperature soaring. Flames danced over her skin, centered between her legs and filled emptiness so that her body craved more. His lips were unbelievably warm and firm, his teeth a torment, wracking her body with longing. She could barely breathe, her heart pounding loud enough for both of them to hear.

Nicolas recognized the danger the moment he stepped in close proximity to other men with Lara. The binding ritual wasn't complete. She could still slip away from him. The call of the demon rose to a wild, demanding roar. He saw every shift of the eyes, the way the men watched her as they moved together in perfect rhythm across the dance floor. He scented the heightened sexual awareness.

Lara didn't realize how alluring she was, a mixture of innocence and fantasy. Her skin glowed, her eyes classic bedroom eyes, large and soft and enthralling. A man could drown in her eyes-he was drowning. And having other males in such a close environment was triggering the beast. He could feel it clawing at

his gut, making demands to claim his lifemate, make her irrevocably his. More than that, his own fears of losing her heightened his animal instincts, the primitive side of him that demanded he take what was his. He was walking a thin line, trying to court her as she deserved and at the same time, remain stable when his lifemate was just out of reach. It was never easy for a male to balance civility with his own predatory nature and coming to the inn made for a volatile situation he hadn't counted on.

He drew a deep breath into his lungs and scented-Lara. Her feminine call sent blood pounding in his groin. The feel of her soft breasts nestled against his chest nearly drove him mad. He was desperate to hold her, to touch her, to touch all that satin skin. Each moment in her company had escalated his need of her. Need had built so slowly at first, and his desire to court her had kept him from realizing how the fire in him had grown and spread until it was a storm threatening his control.