Christine Feehan - Dark Curse 19

He opened his mind to her, sharing the hot slide, the clamp of her throat, the stroke of her tongue on his sensitized flesh. He reared back, using the silk of her hair and his knees to keep her in place while he began to move.

She followed the instructions he bit out through bared teeth. The harder she sucked and used the flat of her tongue, and the edge of her teeth, the wilder and more aggressive he became, but she couldn't stop-didn't want to stop even though a part of her was nervous. She felt him grow thicker and she tried to pull away. He held her, the seductive whisper moving in her mind, telling her exactly what he needed

from her.

Nicolas suddenly withdrew, moving off of her. She cried out, reaching for him. He flipped her over and with one strong arm around her waist, lifted her, dragging her to her knees, pressing his shaft tightly against the curve of her buttocks. He licked his way down her spine, teasing the firm globes and tasting heat and spice down her very center. She gasped, unsure what he intended, but he held her submissively in front of him, forcing her to wait while he took his time, exploring her body, the body that was his to love, to worship, to play with.

Keeping one hand on the nape of her neck, he held her down, thrusting the broad head of his erection against her soft, wet entrance. She gasped and rocked back. He held her firmly, stopping when she tried to impale herself. He waited until she remained still and pushed deeper through the tight folds, inch by inch, filling and stretching her while her heart beat with his and the air moved through her lungs in rhythm with his.

Her muscles were tight and hot, a fiery inferno encasing him in silk. He caught her hips in his hands and thrust hard, burying himself so deep his balls met her bottom with a slap of sensitive flesh and he nearly howled with pleasure. He began to ride her, a hard, rough ride, slamming home, deliberately going as deep and as hard as possible with each stroke, taking her breath, not giving her time to do anything but rock back with sobbing breaths.

Her breasts swayed with every hard, pounding thrust and he leaned forward, angling his body to get a different position, to go even deeper. Her muscles clamped tighter and tighter, and suddenly fire raced over him as her orgasm took her, but he didn't slow down, didn't let her catch her breath, driving her right back up the pinnacle as hard and fast as he could.

Again. It was a demand, a growl rumbling in his throat. He gripped her hair and pulled her head back, leaning toward her shoulder, his teeth lengthening. All the while his hips pounded with real urgency, pushing her up and up, building the tension until she screamed, the lightning streaking from groin to belly to breasts, ripping through her like a tidal wave.

He moved again, turning her, lifting her, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could feel the slide of her breasts on his chest, so he could take her mouth with his, so that he could drop her down over the hard, rigid length of him and hear her scream with pleasure.

Tet vigyazam. I love you. He couldn't say the words out loud. They didn't seem to be enough to express what he felt inside.

He slowed the pace, savoring the tightness of her channel, the slick heat surrounding him and the way she gave herself so completely to him. He tipped her backward until she was lying half across the bed and he was kneeling, hips surging, never wanting the moment to end. Her eyes were glazing over when he caught her hips and drove desperately into the very core of her again and again.

His jaw ached as his teeth lengthened, his shaft was so hard he was afraid it would burst, but he couldn't stop. He was nearly at the point of no return. His teeth ached. His body ached. Every cell demanded he take her blood. He couldn't quiet the roar in his mind, or the thunder in his ears. He bent over her slowly, letting her get used to being pinned down by his larger, heavier body. He couldn't stop the deep thrusting of his hips, savoring the milking of her tight muscles over his pulsing flesh.

He looked into her eyes, let her see his intent. He kissed her breast, nuzzled her nipple and felt her body's instinctive rush of heat. His heartbeat was tuned to the rhythm of hers and he could feel her pulse

beckoning-seducing beneath his tongue. He tasted her soft skin. Warm satin, the feel of her as addicting as her scent. He bit very gently right along the swell of her breast, the smallest of nips and felt her heart flutter. Felt her sheath pulse around his shaft, felt the hot flood of glorious cream bathing him with her need.

He nipped a second time, a little harder, breaking the skin this time. The taste of her burst into his mouth and flooded his system so that he thickened, his erection growing heavier. Her muscles reacted, clamping down around him like a vise, holding him to her.

Say yes, Lara. Tell me yes.

His tongue lapped at the little sting. His hips took a long, slow, leisurely stroke, going deep and hard, pressing down on her sensitive bud so that as he raked over her, she shuddered with pleasure and arched into him.

He never asked if he could have her body, he took her over and over in any way he chose, driving her to bliss with his insatiable appetite, but he asked permission to do the one thing so natural to him she could feel the need beating and clawing at him.

His lips feathered over her pulse, teeth sinking a little deeper. She cried out, arching her back, her hips bucking hard, sheath clamping down again. Heat rushed through her, flames licked at her skin.

Please, she whispered.

He surged forward, another long stroke that nearly drove her over the edge, but he stopped with the walls of tight muscles pulsing all around him and her keening cry.

Please what?

Do it now while I am so desperate for you. Because it was all part of the erotic pleasure and she was desperate. Every part of her ached for this, this connection, the completeness between them.

Nicolas sank his teeth deep, thrust into her mind and body, all simultaneously, sharing his joy, heightening her pleasure, giving her everything he was and ever would be. Her taste burst through him like fireworks, hot and addicting and so perfect he knew he'd never get enough of her blood or her body. He was careful to keep her body at a fever pitch, to not allow her mind to hold any thought but pleasure and he didn't linger, although he wanted to.

He took enough for a true blood exchange, sliding his tongue over the curve of her breast to close the pinpricks even as he shifted again to lock his arm around her hips and begin another wild ride. He thrust faster and harder, watching her face, watching her eyes go, seeing that dazed look of delight, the sexy pout to her mouth as she gave a husky scream when her orgasm tore through her. Her tight sheath clamped down hard, squeezing and milking and tearing his own orgasm from him. He poured his seed into her, his hoarse cry mingling with hers.

With her body rippling around his, he caught her and rolled to his side, bringing her head into the cradle of his arm.Now, Lara, finish it. He didn't ask. It was a demand, dark and filled with lust, with desperate hunger.

Lara couldn't have resisted if she wanted to. The waves of pleasure rocked her, took her from breasts to belly to feminine channel and back again. The call of his blood was loud, the taste of his essence already

burning the back of her throat. She licked over his pulse and bit down, sinking her teeth into his chest.

His hips slammed into her hard, lifting her body, the bite of pain stimulating him even more. She closed her eyes and drank him in, taking him into her veins, her heart, every cell in her body, while he pumped in and out of her tight sheath. His taste was as primal as he was. A blend of dominance and heat, male and the night. She would forever crave him. It took a great deal of self-control to seal the pinpricks, but she was rewarded instantly.