|Home > Christine Feehan > Dark Series > Dark Blood (Chapter 20)|
|Dark Blood(Dark #26) by Christine Feehan|
He focused wholly on her, a predator targeting his prey, looking as if he might devour her all over again.
“I’ve got to clean myself up,” she said softly, regretfully. She enjoyed standing there, his seed running down her thighs while his hands massaged her buttocks.
“I like you just the way you are,” he objected.
She laughed. “You would, but I think we should behave ourselves and go back to our guests. They are, after all, sitting on our verandah wondering what happened to us.”
“We lit up for the forest. I doubt they can’t figure it out.”
Color and heat infused her body but she shrugged delicately. “Still, we have company.”
“You’re always going to insist I be civilized, aren’t you?” His fingers stole up her thighs, taking her breath.
Branislava’s fingers anchored in his thick hair. He leaned into her and bit her left buttock and then her outer thigh, making her yelp, flooding her body once more with hot, welcoming liquid. As his teeth teased her, his fingers moved inside of her, pressing deep, exploring her heat all over again.
She was already so sensitive just that intrusion sent her body reeling again. She gasped, air exploding out of her lungs, her mind melting as he found the small spot that made her crazy with need.
“What are you doing? We have a duty . . .”
“Your only duty is to please me,” he murmured. “Straddle me.”
She shook her head, but complied, placing one foot on either side of his legs. He caught her hips and urged her down right over the top of him, so that she was crouched just above his lap. Her eyes stared into his.
“That’s my duty? To please you?” she echoed, amusement warring with her rising sensuality. She loved the feel of his hands, the look in his eyes. Already she could feel the heat of his thick erection pressing at her dripping entrance.
“Your only duty,” he emphasized.
His hair was thick, a wolf’s pelt, long and falling around him. His chest was heavy with defined muscle, his face carved and beautifully masculine. She loved the look of him, the strength of him and the stamp of absolute authority he wore so easily.
“Well then, if that’s my only duty, I’d better be excellent at it,” she replied, and sank down right over him, completely sheathing him, watching the way his hooded eyes went completely wolf.
He filled her, stretching her all over again, insisting her tight muscles give way for his intrusion. She seated herself on his lap, adjusting first one way and then the other, pleased to see the breath hiss out of him each time she made a small movement.
“I’m not certain how best to please you,” she murmured, lifting her hips slowly and then riding him down even more slowly. “Like this? Does this do anything for your pleasure, sir?”
His fingers dug into her hips, but he let her take control. “I think you’re on the right track.”
Her eyebrow went up. “You think? Hmmm, perhaps you’d like this better?” She rose again, her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she slowly made little circles with her hips, her muscles tightening, clamping down as she spiraled down, increasing the friction on his sensitive shaft.
He swallowed, the breath slamming out of his lungs in a long groan of sheer pleasure. “That’s it, that’s what I want, but a little faster.” His hands guided her into a faster rhythm. His voice turned hoarse and raw. “A little harder.”
Branislava laughed softly, throwing her head back, letting the fiery sensations take her. She rose again, riding him now, a harder, faster rhythm, just as he preferred.
“This is where you belong,” he declared. “Me, inside of you. You surrounding me. Locked together just like this.”
She felt like she belonged. She loved the way his body impaled hers, stretching her so deliciously, just skimming that edge of pain, but not quite, just sheer pleasure streaking through her body with every stroke.
He began to move her body with his enormous strength as his breath hissed out of his lungs, his hands urgent and hard, bringing her body up and down so that her ride was blissfully wild. Branislava closed her eyes, and let her head fall back, let his harsh pace consume her, take her to another realm, where there was only the two of them. Only this.
There was a sense of total belonging, not imprisonment. She craved him, desired him and even needed him, but there was such an awareness of freedom. He made her feel as if she could soar through the skies unfettered, at any time. He made her feel beautiful and sexy. He made her feel no other woman would ever do for him—only her.
His body moved in hers and a surge of electricity charged through her so that every nerve ending burst into life. Her world narrowed until there was only Zev and the way they fit together, the way he moved like a piston, the hard pace that sent streaks of fire rushing through her bloodstream and centering in her deepest core.
Zev urged her into a wilder, faster pace, his hands hard on her hips, as he thrust into her over and over. She rode him with abandon, floating in a dream world of pure feeling. Once again the ground beneath them heated as if the combination of the two of them drew magma up from the very depths. Her skin grew hot, as did his, and around them the mist glowed that strange red orange.
“How can you be so scorching hot?” he asked. “Silken fire gripping me in a tight fist.”
She reveled in the wonder and raw desire in his voice. She loved that she made him feel this way, the same amazing way he made her feel. She rode him at a furious, fiery pace, and when he leaned forward to lick at her breast, the fire that had been building and building, crowned, exploding through her with tremendous force, taking him with her.
For a moment the edges around her vision went red with flames. She felt them licking over her skin like a thousand hot tongues. She circled his neck with her arms and leaned against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it, Zev, but when I’m with you like this, every bad thing in my life is gone. You wipe it away, so that for these precious moments, I’m a clean slate and the only thing written there is your name.”
“That’s an extraordinary thing to say to me,” Zev said. “Thank you.”
She turned her face into his neck. “I thought, once we were out of the ice caves, that we would never have to deal with anything as evil as Xavier ever again.”
Zev’s hand slid up her back, pressing her closer to him. There was intimacy in his touch, but in a comforting way. His fingers reached the nape of her neck and began a slow massage. He didn’t say anything, and she was grateful. It was important to tell him the things she needed to while she had the chance.
“I’m not naïve. I know the problems facing our people, so I was prepared for hard times, although a war with the Lycans might have been more than I ever considered. Still, I know I could handle it.”
Branislava rubbed her face back and forth in the warm space between his neck and shoulder. He smelled masculine and strong and right then, when her fears began to resurface, she needed him.
“Mage-shadowing is truly evil, Zev. The mage can access his victim at any time and force compliance. Often the victim is worn down over time, especially if their will is strong, as in the case of my nephew, Razvan, until they’re weak and confused. The mage strikes them then and can force them to do things completely against everything they believe in.”
“I don’t understand the difference between a splinter and a shadow.”
“Xavier used a splinter of himself in Razvan so that he was living inside of Razvan’s body, but a shadow is an actual portal for the mage to travel through. The splinter can leave the body at any time and seek another host. Few leave a splinter of themselves behind for any length of time because there is a danger to the maker, should the splinter be found and destroyed. A shadow is a doorway to be accessed at any time. The risk of discovery is very small and one can build in all sorts of traps.”
Branislava slowly sat up. A small shiver went through her body when the action caused friction against her most sensitive spot. “I’d much rather stay here for the rest of the night with you, locked together like this, but we have to go back.”
He sighed and ran his hand down the back of her head, caressing the silky braid. “Fen is having trouble keeping Tatijana from looking for you,” he admitted. “She wanted to follow you and make certain you were all right.”
Branislava nodded her head several times, but made no move to get off his lap. If anything, she tightened the muscles surrounding him as if she could hold him to her forever. “I did leave rather abruptly. That poor man. Damon. I guess I shouldn’t have ruined his coffee. I can’t imagine what he thinks I found in him.”
“What did you find?”
Her entire body shuddered. She pressed her lips together and looked around her as if she might spot an enemy spying on them. Very gently she used his shoulders to pull herself up, a little reluctantly, but she did it.
“I’ll tell you when we’re back at the house. Not out here. Not in the open.”
Zev didn’t press her. She looked scared. Whatever she had found in Damon’s brain had been traumatizing enough to send her flying into the night. She needed to work it out herself and come to terms with it before she faced everyone.
“I suppose this means you’re going to get dressed.” He changed the subject, using a sulky tone, hoping to use amusement to distance her mind from the trauma.
“I think it best,” she said, giving him a look from under her long lashes.
“I don’t. Maybe you could just stand there for a few minutes and let me admire you.” He was already clean and fully clothed, back in his normal everyday ready-for-combat clothes.
She smiled, shaking her head. “Your appetite is insatiable.”
“I’m a wolf, what did you expect?” He bared his teeth at her, looking hungry all over again. “My appetite for you is insatiable. It’s my sincere desire to ensure that every time we make love you are so enraptured and captivated by my expertise that you can’t wait for the next time, because, believe me mon chaton féroce, there will be many, many next times.”
Her laughter was genuine, and her bare breasts, rising and falling with her breath, drew his attention like a magnet. He reached out to cup her left breast and leaned forward to draw her exquisitely soft mound into the heat of his mouth. She laughed again and this time, tried to insert her hand between his mouth and her breast. He growled, refusing to relinquish his prize.
“You are a very bad wolf,” she declared sternly. “Let go.”
“I know, but you can’t be so greedy. We have to go back and I need to get dressed.”
I can give you another orgasm just like this. It will be good practice. His tongue flicked and danced. His teeth tugged and rolled. He suckled strongly. He could feel her instant heat, the flush in her body. Honey and cinnamon permeated the air.
“I’m sure you can,” Branislava said firmly. “But don’t. And you don’t need any more practice. If you get any better at sex we’ll both spontaneously combust. It will happen, Zev, and it will be all your fault. We’re lucky we didn’t burn down the forest.”
He gave one last lick along her nipple, savoring the way her body shivered in reaction, before he straightened. “I plan on practicing quite often, Branka. Every rising. Two or three times a rising. Maybe more. Wolves need to be fed, and you can’t let them get bored. Taking on a wolf is a full-time proposition.”
“Tatijana never said she had this much trouble with Fen,” Branislava declared, waving her hand to cover her body with her flowing dress.
Zev bared his teeth at her. “But then I’m the alpha elite, aren’t I?”
Branislava curled her fingers tightly inside of Zev’s hand. She was grateful to him for following her wishes to the letter. He didn’t ask her questions, he simply did as she asked. The heat, so deep beneath the ground, wrapped her in a cocoon of safety. Ordinarily, a cave would have been her last choice for such a meeting, but the sacred cave of warriors was the only place she could think of that a mage could not possibly overhear.
She could taste fear in her mouth, a horrible, coppery tang she couldn’t quite rid herself of. Tension knotted her belly and left her feeling shaky. She tried to follow the rhythm of Zev’s steady lungs, breathing in and out and portraying confidence to those gathering at her request.
Somehow, Zev had gotten everyone to leave their home without her having to say more than she thought it was possible to help Damon the next rising, but they had to prepare. No one had questioned her too closely, although Tatijana had known the truth. Their eyes had met and she saw knowledge there, but like Branislava, Tatijana had remained steadfastly silent. Both refused to give name to evil where they resided.
“Bronnie,” Mikhail said softly, “Gregori has completed all safeguards as you asked.”
Gregori joined the tight circle, there in the cave of warriors, seating himself beside the prince. “Damon is safe as well. He can do no harm to us,” he added.
“Daciana, Makoce and Lykaon are close and all three are acting as normal as possible under the circumstances,” Fen told her. He kept his arm around Tatijana, keeping her close beneath the protection of his shoulder.
“Tell us what has disturbed you,” Mikhail prompted. “Why you asked for these cautions to be taken.”
Branislava touched her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Skyler and Dimitri sat directly across from her in their circle of power. Skyler had drawn a protection circle around them, just to be safe. The chamber had been cleansed as well, but still, her heart pounded and her mouth stayed dry.