Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

His arms tightened possessively, sweeping her into the shelter of his hard masculine frame. Deep within his body, his blood thickened to molten lava, a firestorm sweeping through his entire system until he knew he was going up in flames.

We have to stop. The words brushed like butterfly wings in his mind, breathless, erotic, filled with the same hunger and need threatening to consume them both, threatening his very control. Yet there was something else. Something new. Because their minds were merged, he recognized it for what it was; fear as elemental as time itself.

Darius pulled himself back to reality, away from the urgent demands his body was making and back toward a semblance of sanity.

Tempest was on fire, no longer herself but a part of Darius. They were one single and complete entity. She clung to him, the only safe anchor in a wild storm of magic. Darius lifted his head so that his mouth hovered inches from hers. They stared at one another, drowning in each other’s eyes, awed that they could produce such a conflagration with only a kiss.

Tempest retreated, a subtle feminine withdrawal from him, trying to find herself and cool the terrible heat searing her body. She touched her mouth with her fingertips, unable to believe that she had helped to generate such flames.

“Do not say it, honey. I know exactly what you are going to say.” That infuriating male amusement tinged his husky voice.

Tempest shook her head. “I don’t think I can talk. Honestly, Darius, you’re lethal. We just can’t do this. It’s too dangerous. I expected lightning to start arcing between us.”

He shoved a hand through his dark mane of hair. “I swear I was hit by a bolt. White-hot and jagged, tore right through me.”

Her smile was tentative but there all the same. “So we agree. No more of that.”

Darius wrapped an arm around her body and found she was trembling. “I think plenty of that is the answer, Tempest. We have to learn to control it. The more practice we have, the better we will be.”

“Better?” Tempest pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes enormous. “We don’t dare get any better at it, Darius, or we could set the world on fire. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel so great right now.” Her body was heavy and aching for relief, sensitive to the slightest touch. Each time Darius brushed against her, darts of fire raced through her. She needed him, needed his body. “If we had any sense, we’d put half the world between us.”

Darius brought her knuckles to the warmth of his mouth and was intrigued by two small scars on them. His tongue examined the faded white marks, a slow, velvet rasp of heat. Tempest closed her eyes against the smoldering desire in his eyes, against his blatant sensuality. This time she knew the instant conflagration wasn’t caused only by her. She didn’t do things like this, didn’t seek instant intimacy. Ever. Who would have thought such a small touch, one look, could reduce her to liquid heat and an ache that would never stop again?

“Darius, you have to stop.” She was half laughing but very near tears. “I have no idea what to do. I mean, you’re a vampire.”

He shook his head. “Not vampire, honey. God help us all, never that. I explained to you that the vampire has chosen eternal darkness, has chosen to lose his soul. You are my soul, my strength, the light to my dark. I am Carpathian, even though I was not raised with our people and my ways are somewhat different. I do not know the Prince of our people, the one who has undertaken to keep our species from extinction. I did not even know he existed or that my elder brother still lived until a few weeks ago.”

Tempest began to laugh. “Isn’t there anything normal we can converse about? Say, the weather? Unusual weather we’re having.” If he continued to talk to her about things her brain refused to comprehend, she was afraid she would lose her mind. Everything was happening far too fast.