His mouth moved, a trail of fire running from her collarbone up to the pulse beating so frantically in her throat. Her soft mouth trembled, long lashes sweeping down to cover the luminescent glow in her dark eyes. She should stop him. For her own sanity, she should stop him. But his mouth was moving slowly, gently, a heated exploration not at all aggressive.
Desari tried desperately to marshal her thoughts. “You have claimed me?”
His fingers tangled with hers. He brought her hand to press against the muscles of his chest, his thumb feathering with false innocence over her pulse. He felt it jump as his lips drifted lower, pushed the limits of the neckline of her shirt, where the creamy invitation of her breasts swelled in anticipation. “I have. You are bound to me.” He whispered the words into the valley between her breasts, and her entire body clenched with such need that Desari felt weak.
She swore there were flames dancing over her skin. She actually looked down, expecting to see little orange tongues of fire licking along her skin. She shivered and tried to withdraw her hand, tried to put some much-needed space between them. “You believe I am. I do not.” Desari found that where her head was certain she wanted to move, her body refused to cooperate.
His laughter was low and husky with male amusement at its worst. “You cannot possibly think you could get away from me now.” Julian transferred his attention to her arm. His lips skimmed along her bare skin, stopping to dwell in the sensitive inner elbow before moving on along her forearm. Then he was doing something to her inner wrist, his teeth scraping over her skin, making every muscle in her body clench until she thought she might have to scream with need. “I would not be much of a lifemate if I could not hold what is my own, now, would I?”
As he bent forward over her arm, his golden hair was brushing against her skin, and she closed her eyes against the waves of heat rising so sharply between them. In spite of herself she smiled. “You are every bit as arrogant as Darius.” She liked the feel of his hands, the molten gold of his eyes burning over her. She even liked his arrogance.
“Mmm,” he murmured rather absently, clearly distracted. “Am I?” His hand glided over her rib cage until he found the edge of her shirt. “You know you love everything about me.” He buried his face in the waves of ebony silk cascading around her shoulders and down her back. “I love the way you smell.” His hand slipped beneath her thin cotton top, his fingers splayed wide to take in as much satin skin as he could.
The sensation was beyond her wildest fantasy. So hot. Reaching into her insides and simply melting everything. “I thought we were going to talk,” she said a little desperately. Her arms seemed to have a will of their own, sliding around his neck. For a moment she closed her eyes, savoring the heat of his body in the coolness of the night. .
“I am talking to you,” Julian whispered. “Do you not hear what I am saying?”
His voice moved like velvet over her skin. How could she not hear him? Inside her body, Desari felt a volcano of molten heat erupt. It raced through her, thick and heavy and hot and aching. She wanted him, and he needed her. Could it really be that simple? She turned up her mouth to the demanding invasion of his.
Julian swore the ground moved beneath his feet. Desari knew she heard the roar of thunder and felt the blue-white lash of lightning. Julian kicked open the door to the cabin and managed to make it inside, his body raging. The beast within, ever present, fought for supremacy. Julian fastened his mouth to hers, a little out of control, a soft warning growl emanating from deep within his throat as she tried to lift her head.
His hand spanned her throat, holding her to him, holding her as if she were a part of him. Holding her as if she was the most precious thing in the world and he couldn’t be without her. His other hand skimmed her waist, then stopped to rest there, hot and urgent even though his palm was lying quietly against her skin. Desari was so aware of it, aware of how close it was to the most intimate, sensitive parts of her body. She ached for him. Wanted him. She was beyond thinking rationally; she wanted his hand to move. Either direction, it didn’t matter. His mouth was hot and hard, yet velvet soft, demanding her complete surrender. And then his hand did move, finding the tiny catch at the front of her lacy bra, and her breasts spilled free. It was such a small thing, but her entire body felt wild and untamed and in need.
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