Dark Slayer

His breath stopped. His heart missed a beat, and then began to pound. The roar in his head increased and he swore a jackhammer pounded there. His groin felt like a steel spike. He groaned, a soft, husky sound that seemed to compel her to action. She caught his hip in one hand, her fingers digging deep while the fingers of her other hand wrapped around him like a vise. He heard her heart match his own pounding beat. Heard the rush of her blood through her veins like the swell of a tidal wave. He swore in the ancient language, his voice not his own, but hoarse and desperate, and hungry with demand.

She licked him. Licked the broad mushroom head, swirling her tongue over that firm, velvet-soft tip and savoring the pearly drops he leaked in anticipation. His entire body tightened, shuddered, and this time he growled, the sound low, filled with lust while his vision went hazy. «O kod belso-darkness take it. Ivory, you might kill me.»

He had to be in her mouth, in that tight, moist, secret haven. He caught fistfuls of her hair and pushed her head down on him, needing her desperately, unable to wait a moment longer.

Ivory kept her eyes on his, watching the changes in him, drinking them in, glorying in her ability to shake his usual calm. She loved it when he went all demonic on her, growling and bunching her hair in his hands, dragging her closer, thrusting his hips helplessly. She reveled in the way his eyes went from midnight blue to intense black. The way the stripes in his hair deepened. There was something very exhilarating and intensely sexy about the growls rumbling in his chest, the bunch of the muscles in his jaw, that little tic that made her know he was completely gone into another realm.

They were going out this night to hunt the most dangerous enemy the Carpathian people-the world-had ever known, and either might never return. Determination to show him how she felt, what he meant to her, what he brought to her, was in every mesmerizing stroke of her tongue and caress of her fingers. She engulfed his shaft completely, drawing him deep, hollowing her cheeks to tighten the suction around his hard flesh.

He moaned when her teeth scraped gently and her tongue swirled up his shaft to tease at the ultrasensitive spot beneath the flared head. She pulled her head back until her lips were barely skimming over him, watching him, watching his eyes go wide in pleasure, watching his breath come in ragged, harsh gasps.

«Ivory.» There was demand in his voice.

Gone was her slow, smooth lover, the one who took his time taking her over and over the edge, always in complete control, always the one to give so generously and drive her beyond anything she'd ever known. Joy burst through her and she swallowed him, taking him deep, feeling his entire body react, feeling him shudder again as intense pleasure vibrated through him.

The muscles in his thighs jumped with arousal, his stomach bunched in reaction, the heavy muscles of his chest rippled while his arms flexed. But it was his shaft, jerking and pulsing in her mouth, growing thicker even than he'd ever been, that thrilled her. She loved the way he stretched her lips, reveled in the way the hot length of him felt on her tongue, even the way he thrust in short, staccato bursts deeper down her throat where her muscles squeezed and massaged and milked him.

She had planned this moment, this giving to him, this taking, wanting the raw pleasure for him, the helpless, mindless ecstasy where he didn't have to worry about her or what she was feeling, but only taking what she gave him, what she offered to him. Heat flared through her when his teeth came together like that of a hungry wolf.

He shifted, floating them to the floor, his hands holding her head still while he thrust down her mouth, his eyes narrowed now, watching her throat work, watching the beauty of the woman now at his feet, kneeling in supplication, her eyes locked with his.

Do not look away from me, he commanded.

She had no intention of looking away, or of pulling from his mind. She wanted that exquisite feeling to go on forever. Her own thighs were wet, the junction between her legs pulsing with need for him to fill her, but she wasn't going to stop for anything. She wanted to take him down her throat, to be everything for him, to be used by him, to give him this one perfect gift so he would feel her love encompassing him.

Her tongue stroked and rubbed along his most sensitive spot and she heard a strangled cry escape his throat. His eyes went so deep blue they appeared black with no pupils. She felt his reaction. Burning alive. Going up in flames from his toes to the top of his head. Flames licked over his skin. His blood ran like hot lava, thick, almost too thick to make it through his veins.

Harder. The whisper was in her mind. Oh, Kucak!-star. Ivory, harder. His voice was ragged. Hoarse. Thrilling. Andasz entolem irgalomet!-have mercy, do not stop.