Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Tempest stared around her at the beauty of the chamber. And it was beautiful, a room where the very walls were crafted of nature’s art. Pools of water shimmered in the light from the candles. Crystals hung from the ceiling, and diamonds embedded in the walls glittered, reflecting the dancing flames.

Tempest began to struggle for air. Darius was too powerful, able to create and command forces she had no knowledge of. Terror took the place of dark sensuality.

Darius merely tightened his hold and gave her a small, gentle shake. “You still do not see, do you? Try to imagine what life is like with no feeling, Tempest. Nothing but raw, ugly hunger gnawing constantly. Hunger that can never be sated. Only the life in your prey’s blood whispering to you of power. No color to brighten your life, everything in black or white or shades of gray. No textures or richness.” His long fingers stroked her skin, lingering on the satin softness. “I have taken nothing in this life for myself. You are the light in my world of darkness. Richness when I had nothing. Joy where there was emptiness. I will not give you up because you cannot overcome your fear. Would you have us come together for the first time in a struggle, in violence? Trust me as your heart tells you you must.”

In his arms her slight body was trembling uncontrollably. She buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m such a coward, Darius. I don’t want to be. Everything is so overwhelming. You are overwhelming. The intensity of your feelings is overwhelming. When I live alone, I know the rules, and I like it that way.”

He was carrying her farther into the heart of the chamber toward the shimmering pools. “No, you do not, Tempest. I know your mind; I have traveled in it often. You want me.”

“Sex isn’t everything, Darius.”

He set her gently on a flat, smooth rock near a steaming pool. “You want me, Tempest, and it has little to do with sex.”

“You think,” she muttered, while fire raced up her leg as he removed her shoes to inspect the soles of her feet. His fingers shackled her ankles, firm, strong, yet inevitably gentle. She felt that curious wrenching in the vicinity of her heart.

Darius was frowning as he examined the lacerations. “You should have taken better care, Tempest.” His voice was dark and moody, his black eyes suddenly rising to meet her green ones.

Her tongue found her dry lower lip, and her pulse raced faster. With his hands so gentle on her, his gaze hungry and burning with stark desire, how did she know he was furious? Once the knowledge seeped into her, more pieces of the puzzle began to assemble themselves. The terrible fury of the storm had been his rage, volcanic rage seething just below the surface of what appeared to be perfect tranquility. She glimpsed it when her mind sought his, inadvertently touching without her intention or his consent.

Tempest drew in her breath. She had done this. Where nothing in his centuries of existence had managed to shake his utter calm, she had. “Darius.” She whispered his name in the beauty of the cave, her voice aching with sorrow. “I never meant to hurt you.”

At once his hands framed her face. “I know that. I am here now. I can heal these wounds. But do not neglect your health again, baby. I am not altogether certain my heart could take it.” His hands dropped to the hem of her cotton top.

At the first brush of his fingers against the bare skin of her stomach, her breath caught in her throat, and her body went still. Darius pulled the shirt over her head with a single fluid motion, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. He barely gave her lacy bra a thought, using a razor-sharp fingernail to dispense with it. His attention was on the puncture wounds on her side, the scrapes on her back.

He swore. She knew that was what he was muttering although she didn’t understand the language. And then he bent his head low, his thick mane of midnight-black hair brushing her ribs, sending darts of fire dancing over her skin. At the first touch of his tongue, she closed her eyes, unable to believe the exquisite beauty of the moment. She felt his lapping, velvet soft yet slightly rasping across her damaged skin, a mixture of soothing sensuality.