Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Tempest reached up to circle his neck with her arms, pulling his head down desperately to kiss him, moving against his body restlessly, needing him with almost Carpathian hunger. He could feel the tears on her face and knew she was crying for him, knew she was afraid of bringing him harm, knew that any moment she could be so overwhelmed by this sharing of her life that she might bolt.

“Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing to yourself, Darius?’ she whispered against his throat. His fingers were moving beneath her shirt, pushing the edges up until he found her silken skin, his palm hot and inviting, caressing her breast. She could hardly think with the fire racing through her and the hunger for him raging in her soul. “You have to promise me you’ll never do it again. I can look after myself while you’re in the ground. I’ll stay wherever you ask me to stay. I promise I will, Darius.”

His mouth was now at her breast and she cradled his head to her, her fingers spearing through his thick hair while waves of heat raced through her body.

She was silk and satin, warm honey, and the clean, fresh scent of the night he loved so much. She was everything good and beautiful in the world, everything he could ever want. His hands slipped reverently over her body, sliding over every inch of skin he could reach. He pushed at her jeans to get at more of her.

Darius was consumed with hunger for her, with a fierce need to bury himself in the perfection of her body. He needed her hot, tight sheath gripping him to take away the terrible fear for her safety he couldn’t quite shake. He pushed her jeans away from her slender hips, caressing her, shaping her body with his hands, cupping her bottom in his palms so that he could crush her against him, press her into his hard, thick arousal. He groaned at the feel of her, moist and hot, beckoning him, her body’s wild scent calling to his.

She seemed so fragile that he had a fear of crushing her, of becoming so out of control that he would forget his own enormous strength and hurt her. He tried to be gentle with her, to see to her fulfillment before her own, but the scent and feel of her was so exciting to him that his animal instincts threatened to take over.

“What am I going to do with you, Darius?” she whispered softly against his bared chest. Her mouth was moving over him, tasting his skin as hungrily as he was tasting hers. There was an ache in her voice.

His mouth immediately fastened on hers again in long, drugging kisses that fanned the flames more. “Love me back, Tempest. Need me the way I have need of you.”

He was everywhere, his broad shoulders blocking out the night sky, his breath taking hers, his body molding around hers, sweeping her into their own world where nothing else intruded. “You do not know what you put me through with your blatant disobedience.” His mouth was on her throat, her breasts, a frenzied hunger that seemed to know no boundaries. “You must learn to obey me.” His hand moved between her thighs, found her hot, moist acceptance. He heard his own groan as his body hardened even more, a sweet agony only she could relieve. “God, baby, I am going to explode if I do not take you right now.” His fingers found her feminine sheath, explored, teased, made her crazy for him.

Tempest was kissing his shoulder, soft little nips she couldn’t stop, her body moving restlessly in enticement, demand. “Darius, please, stop giving orders for once and just make love to me.”

He pressed her back against a fallen tree, turning her in his arms so that she could brace her hands on the huge trunk. He caressed her bottom, traced the indentations, the cleft, the two small dimples at her lower back. Impatient, Tempest pushed against him, and he grew instantly heavier with need. His hands went to her hips to hold her still, and as he pressed his velvet tip into her hot entrance, the breath was stolen from his lungs.