Dark Slayer

She'd never had a man look at her like that. Certainly Draven had wanted her, but not with love carved into every line of his face. Not with his body shuddering and his heart hammering. He had never looked at her with such a fever of need, with his mind open to hers and his heart given fully to her. No one had ever made her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, wholly desired, completely loved-until now.

«Ivory.» Her name came out strangled in his throat. A soft symphony that brushed her skin just as effectively as his hands.

He brought her to him again, taking her mouth, this time in a fever of need, scorching her with his searing heat as he pulled her closer, so that his heavy erection pushed against her soft belly right through the material of his trousers. She heard her own strangled moan as his mouth fastened on hers, this time without that slow burn. This time wild and so hot it scorched her. He had driven her out of her mind so that need was the only thing she knew, and she melted into him, nearly blind with hunger for his touch.

His tongue tangled with hers as his hands came back to her sensitive breasts, fingers tugging and rolling her nipples until she was panting, gasping, little whimpers escaping. His skin felt hot beneath his shirt, as her nails dug deep into his shoulders. A shudder went through his body. His mouth was addictive, that dark, rich taste of sin and sex she found intoxicating. His body was hard and powerful, moving against hers, controlled, aggressive now, inflaming her more. She could feel each defined muscle rippling beneath his skin, his body tense with need as his kisses sent electrical sparks sizzling through her veins directly to her feminine channel so she was damp and needy, and moaning into his mouth.

She couldn't stop touching him, his hair, his neck, his throat, sliding her hands over his arms and the muscles there, dragging husky male groans, throaty and raw with passion for him. The sound inflamed her more until she thought she was burning up, her body moving almost compulsively against his.

He made a sound. Dark. Dangerous. Intoxicating. He simply drove his hips upward, against the junction of her thighs, pressing tightly while he rocked her there. The urgent movement was incredibly sexy, sending a shaft of desire, sweet and hot, piercing through her core, and she buried her face against his neck, stroking with her tongue, nipping with her teeth, reveling in the way his body shuddered in reaction.

His fingers found her inner thigh. Stroked. Took the breath from her body. His leg forced her thighs open to him, the rough material rubbing over her skin as she bucked helplessly into him, nearly sobbing with need.

«Are you wet for me, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved?»

His voice was a black velvet seduction in her ear. A blatant, wicked temptation.

«Are you?» He sounded like pure sin.

She tugged frantically at his shirt, desperate to get at him, as need clawed at her. She ached, her feminine sheath coiled tight with building tension, frantic for release, for him to fill the clutching emptiness. She managed to shove his shirt off his body and couldn't stand anything between them, not even for another second. She stripped him with magic, with frenzied, almost violent haste.

One hand fisted in her hair, dragged her head back to expose her throat to rake gently with his teeth. He bit down and her womb clenched. He trailed fiery kisses over her neck, and then his mouth was ravaging her breasts, his teeth and tongue sending molten fire racing through her blood. His hand slipped over her thigh, caressed and stroked the soft inner skin, moving higher, knuckles brushing the damp mound at the junction there.

Ivory inhaled sharply. Went still. Her breath caught in her lungs. Just stayed trapped there, burning and raw. Razvan pulled his head back and stared into her eyes. She drowned there. Holding her gaze captive, he plunged his fingers into her tight, wet channel. Ivory's eyes widened. She heard the surprised wail escaping her throat, dizzy with shock.

Razvan thrust into her mind so he could feel her response, her reactions guiding his every move. She didn't know if she could stand feeling both of them, the ravenous hunger, the building fire leaping between them.

Still looking at her, Razvan dropped to his knees. He lowered his gaze in a slow, possessive study of her body, watching her flush with arousal, all the while his fingers plunged deep. Her scent called to him as she rode his hand, almost sobbing. Very slowly he removed his fingers and licked at them, savoring the exotic taste of her. She moaned and the sound vibrated through his heavy erection so that he pulsed with urgent need. He ignored his own body's reaction, desperate for the taste of her.