Christine Feehan - Dark Possession

He kissed her back, his tongue sliding into the silken heat of her mouth. Every nerve ending leapt to life. Whatever anger he still held toward his prince, toward himself or even toward the Malinovs slid away, leaving his blood pounding for her.

His arms went around her, and he pulled her even closer, body to body, his mouth on hers, his pulse thundering in her ears. They were merged, mind to mind, and she felt the sudden shift in him, the way every cell recognized her, wanted her, needed her. His teeth tugged at her lip, nipped and teased and demanded. Heat flared, driving away the cold of his skin, pushing out the shadows and sorrow of old memories until there was only this-the ultimate feeling. Sheer bliss.

«I want to feel your skin against mine,» he whispered. His hand was already sliding up her leg, along her calf, up her thigh, inside where she ached and craved and needed him. Where she offered him a refuge and haven. His knuckles moved in small circles against her damp core while his mouth ravaged hers.

Around him, the world dropped away. Both worlds. Shadows receded until there was only the bed of flowers and the fragrance and scent of man and woman calling to each other. He brought both hands up to hold her in his arms, hold her against him, one hand cupping the back of her head as he lowered her to the cradling vines. He wasn't wild this time, didn't want to be. He took great care, slow and easy, wanting to taste every inch of her, wanting to take them both on a silken journey of pure sensation.

She reached up to push back his fall of silky hair, so long and luxurious, thick, thicker even than she remembered. His hair had been beautiful, but now, maybe because every sensation seemed so much more to her, his hair seemed longer, a thick pelt she wanted to stroke and caress and bury her face in. More than anything, she wanted to comfort him, make him feel whole and alive and so much better.

Her hand shaped the nape of his neck and she lifted her mouth to his. His kiss matched the lazy, slow movement of his hands as they slid beneath her top to cup her breasts. His thumbs teased and flicked, with that same languorous pace, creating pinpoints of flame that radiated from her breasts to her belly to melt into a pool of molten liquid between her legs. Her body was instantly slick and hot and already eager for his.

She loved his mouth. The feel and shape of it. The way it was so hot and commanding. No matter how gentle he began, within moments his mouth took over hers, drugging her with kisses, sending flames spinning into a vortex of need. His hands slid over her skin, leaving her writhing for more, so gentle, so patient, that it shocked her when he suddenly tore her blouse open, sending buttons scattering everywhere, lowered his head and covered her breast with his hot, greedy mouth.

She arched into him, cradling his head, stroking his hair, whispering encouragement, asking for more.

Manolito lifted his head to look down at her. She was so beautiful, offering herself up to him to make the past all better. If anyone could do it, she could. He was aroused beyond anything he'd ever thought possible. Whether she knew it or not, she was in his mind, heightening his needs, showing him her eagerness to please him in anyway he wanted-or needed. She was his own personal playground, but this time, his lust was wrapped in love. He knew it absolutely. There was no way not to love her when she gave him everything

without reservation, when she had the courage to hand her body over to a man as dominant as he.

He dragged the skirt from her body, rid himself of his too-heavy clothes and knelt over her, staring down at her full, ripe breasts. Her nipples were hard and eager. Her legs were slightly spread, so he could see the slick, wet invitation of her body calling to his. With a small growl rumbling in the back of his throat, he lowered his head once again to hers. She opened her mouth to him, accepting the hard spearing of his tongue. His teeth tugged at her lower lip, bit at the soft bow as his tongue teased and thrust. Beneath him, her skin heated to a smooth, sensitized silk, so that every time he rubbed his body over hers, she shivered and trembled with eagerness.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh, trying to hold on, as he deepened the kisses, rough now, demanding, making each one hotter and more addicting than the last. She was drowning, with no way to surface, his hands hard and hot on her body, his tongue capturing hers over and over, drawing it into his own mouth, his lips taking control in the way his hands did.

His palms slid possessively over her breasts, fingers tugging at her nipples. Arrows of flames streaked down her belly and darted between her thighs. She moaned softly, the sound vibrating down his spine and around to his groin, to hum through his erection. He wedged his knee between her thighs, opening her further to him.

He blazed a trail of fire from her lips to her neck, to the pulse beating frantically there. His teeth nipped and his tongue swirled us he listened to the surge of blood pounding in her veins for him. It was music-sheer music, setting his own blood surging in answer. It was only MaryAnn who could do this for him-quiet every demon, set his soul soaring, bring poetry to his life in the midst of too much reality.

She began to ride his thigh with a helpless little cry, struggling to assuage the need growing in her. He could feel the gathering of inviting moisture against his bare skin where she rubbed restlessly, and it felt so sensuous he could barely hang on to his control.

He flicked her nipple with a quick, hard stroke, and she jumped beneath him, already so sensitized that when he covered her breast, drawing the creamy flesh into the fiery heat of his mouth, she arched her body more fully into him, her cries driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

Her heart was loud, pounding out a rhythm to match his. He made his way down her body, gliding over the silky surface until he could clamp his arms around her thighs and lift her to his greedy mouth. He had woken craving the taste of her, almost more than the hunger for blood. He covered her intriguing little slit with his mouth, tongue flicking and stroking her clit. Her first release was hard and fast, her muscles tightening until the sensitive nerve endings were on fire, but he didn't stop.

MaryAnn tried to push away from him, but his strength was too much. All she could do was thrash wildly beneath him in an effort to escape his wicked mouth, which only incited him more.

That's it, sivamet burn for me. Go up Inflames. Scream. Become mine completely.

His voice was a rough whisper in her mind. His mouth suckled as his tongue assaulted her. It was too much, too fast, her body too sensitive.

I can't. You're going to kill me. Maybe not kill, but certainly destroy everything she had been, remaking her into someone else, someone highly sexual, someone who would need his hands and mouth and body for eternity. It was frightening to be so out of control, to have her body taken over, to have endless sensations build and build relentlessly. The second climax rushed over her, and she screamed his name, a plea, either to stop or for more, she honestly didn't know.

No, ainaak enyem, I am loving you the only way I know how. I am giving you everything I am and taking everything that you are.

He heard the growls of pleasure rumbling in his throat, knew the sound vibrated through her sheath, just as it vibrated through him. Her womb spasmed. He tightened his hold and took more, demanded more. This time he thrust his tongue hard and fast, pressing against her ultrasensitive spot while he drew the sweet honey from her body, lust and love gripping him so strongly he shuddered with it. His marauding mouth flung her into a third orgasm. She let out a keening wail.