Dark Slayer

Desperate. He was desperate for her taste. That alone was enough to undo her, that this man, kneeling at her feet, looking like a fallen angel, could be so desperate for her taste, for the hot cream spilling out to welcome him.

He kept her thighs spread with his hands and took her with his mouth, his tongue sliding through the satin-soft heat. She shuddered. Caught his hair with both fists and yanked, the biting pain thickening his shaft even more. His name was strangled, cut off as she lost her ability to breathe when he licked at her like a hungry wolf.

The rasp of his tongue was too much. Her knees weakened and her body coiled too tight, burned too hot, clenching and rippling with shocking intensity. She cried out his name again, trying to say stop, but not wanting this to ever end. It mattered little; he was beyond hearing, his blood thundering in his ears, the taste of her driving him wild. He ate at her like a starving wolf, his tongue stroking, lapping and then suckling her clit, plunging deep and then flicking at the hard nub while she bucked and thrust against his mouth in a mindless, fiery explosion.

Ivory screamed. She'd never screamed in her life. Not when Draven caught her. Not when the vampires had attacked. Never. Not once. But the pleasure bordered on ecstasy, roaring through her belly and rippling through her womb, wave after wave, so that she clung to his shoulders for support while the tidal wave burst through her.

Razvan lifted her then, cradling her in his arms, taking her to the soft bed in the chamber, weaving and floating a silken sheet to lay her on. He came down with her, spreading her legs a second time, his mouth latching on to her, tongue stabbing deep to drive her up a second time. She wept, digging her nails into his back, trying desperately to hold on to sanity as he took her up fast. She heard herself pleading, for what she didn't even know, and then he was rising above her, his face a harsh mask of desire in stark contrast to the unashamed, fierce love in his eyes.

She felt him press the broad head of his erection at her entrance, and time stopped. Sound stopped. There was only the sensation of his body demanding entrance to hers. There was white lightning flashing over her skin, through her body, streaking through her bloodstream as he began to invade, his thick shaft pushing through the tight folds of her body. Between her thighs, his shaft was like a hot brand, where he stretched her slowly on an exquisite rack of pleasure.

His voice was harsh as he murmured to her in the ancient tongue, somewhere between swearing and praising, maybe both. Her blood, thundering in her ears, drowned out the actual words. He was trying to ease into her, to allow her body plenty of time to accommodate his length and girth, but she couldn't stay still, not even when his hands pinned her hips and held her. The pleasure was too much. She thrust upward, using her heels for leverage, just as he eased forward again.

A lash of pain accompanied the pleasure pouring over her as his body thrust deep into hers. His fingers tightened on her hips-dug in-forced her to be still.

«Stop, Ivory. Do not move.» His breathing was as harsh as his voice, ragged and uneven. «We're both going to go up in flames. You are so tight.»

She could see his white teeth snap together as her muscles gripped and squeezed. That smooth control had slipped. She loved that she'd managed to shake his calm. She could feel the pounding need in him, the dark hunger, see the lengthening of his teeth, just that hint of danger that made her heart jump and her body flood with more liquid cream. She dug her nails into him, her breasts heaving, desperate for more-desperate for him to move. «Please, Razvan. Please.»

The urgency in her took him over the edge. He caught her hips and dragged her legs over his arms, levering himself to ride over her clit, and then he plunged deep, the friction nearly intolerable, the pleasure so intense she was afraid of losing herself completely in him. He reared back and began a harsh rhythm, deep and strong and fast, so deep he pierced her womb, the hot length of him filling her, binding them together.

His mind moved in hers so that she felt the fire streaking through his body, the way her tight sheath dragged and milked at him, scorching hot, velvet soft, an exquisite pleasure-pain that shook him to his soul. The tension in her body built, coiling tighter and tighter, until she was frantically writhing beneath him, her breath coming in wild gasps, her head tossing back and forth, her nails raking at his back.

«Razvan.» She sobbed his name. A plea. A demand. She needed… Needed!

«I know, Ivory,» he bit out softly between his teeth. «Give yourself to me. All of you. Let go, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved. I will catch you.»