“So, hopefully, it isn’t the deranged thing going on here. I don’t have a mad desire to turn upside down and hang from my toes like a bat, but I definitely have a craving.” The seductive caress of her voice played over his skin like fingers. Her mind, when he touched it, was a mixture of fear and humor, as if she couldn’t quite decide which to go with.
“It is natural to be hungry, honey,” he reassured her, his palm sweeping the silken strands of her hair from her neck. The water was lapping at their skin, bubbles bursting over and around them, creating a sensation of intense pleasure.
“A bit on the repulsive side, though.” She tried to be analytical about it.
“Do you think?” He bent his head to find the pulse beating in her throat, his tongue stroking a brand, feeling the sudden, impatient expectation. “What does it feel like when I kiss you like this?”
He was stealing her breath, her sanity. He was bringing her body to life again, bringing it to a living flame of need. “You know,” she accused.
His teeth scraped lightly back and forth over her neck. Her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation. Heat pooled immediately within her, low and urgent.
“What about this, Tempest?” he persisted, his breath warm on her skin.
She arched her neck to give him better access, her entire body on fire for the erotic ecstasy of his bite. “You know, Darius.”
His mouth moved to find hers in a slow, languid kiss he needed more than anything else at that moment.
It robbed her of her ability to think sane thoughts, to think of anything but him.
“That is how it feels to me,” Darius said, “when your mouth moves over my skin, when your teeth find me and my blood flows into you. It is beautiful and erotic, and my body craves the sharing just as yours does.”
His hands moved over her skin, a slow exploration of her shadows and curves, washing the remnants of soil from her. The feel of his palms gliding over her bare flesh, cupping her breasts possessively, sliding down her belly to the triangle of curls, slipping between her legs to seek her creamy heat brought fire to her body. Brought a hungry demand she had never known. He slowly inched a finger inside her. A second. He thrust into her, explored her velvet interior, knew it pulsed with life and need for only him. She pushed against his hand, seeking relief from the gathering fire. Tempest could feel her own inhibitions slipping away as her body initiated its own demands.
She began to stroke his skin, tracing the heavy muscles of his chest, the definition of his abdomen, then moved lower to cup the weight of him in her palm, to dance enticing fingers along the hard length of him. Darius lifted her into his arms, striding out of the pool to lay her on the bed he had made for her, his body blanketing hers.
Tempest smiled and circled his head with her arms, her hands stroking his thick hair. “At last, a bed. Do you think we’ll know what to do in it?”
“Oh, yeah, baby. I do not think you have a thing to worry about. I know exactly what to do,” he whispered against her throat. Her body felt like satin, her hair like silk. How could anything be so damned soft? He tasted her skin, the sweet honey of it, and allowed his body to swell into a fiery shaft of desire. Need poured into him, strong and urgent, a relentless hunger only her body could sate.
Tempest was caught up in the feel of his hard body and aggressive male domination, his brute strength, the shivering response her fingertips could induce. She smiled, her tongue tasting his neck, reveling in the rich texture of his skin. Her breasts were sensitive, swollen with need, aching with pleasure, pressed against his powerful chest.
And then she became aware of his heartbeat. The ebb and flow of his blood, like the waves of the sea advancing and retreating. The call, the hunger, the all-consuming hunger. Instantly she stiffened, cried out with fear, and struggled to free herself from the weight of his body.
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