Where he had been wild and aggressive before, he was slow and gentle now, moving with long, sultry strokes, his gaze locked with hers so he could see the pleasure he brought to her on her expressive face. Her eyes clouded with passion; her lips parted as her breath came in little gasps of wonder. She was so beautiful, she destroyed his tranquillity, that absolute calm he had long ago acquired, and she made him as helpless and out of control as a youth. He wanted her for all time. Not the short span of years they would have, but for an eternity. He wanted it all.
Darius closed his mind to that possibility, that temptation, and bent to take her mouth with his, his tongue dueling with hers, sweeping over her teeth, exploring the moist interior, demanding that she do the same to him. He thrilled to the tiniest details. The brightness of her hair, the length of her eyelashes, the curve of her cheek-all an abundance of riches along with the feel of her body surrounding his. Hot velvet gripping him, teasing him.
He felt her tighten around him, her muscles rippling with the intensity of her pleasure, and he allowed the sensations in her mind and body to become his own. He felt the deep ripples begin like an earthquake, building and building until her shattering release. She was making little sounds in her throat, her arms taut as she writhed beneath him, trying to break free from his grip, but he held her and watched and experienced the strength and power of his body joined with hers, the tidal wave ripping through her, fragmenting her mind as the rush came. Only then, still holding her mind firmly with his, did he allow himself to rebuild his own conflagration, so that she could feel the pleasure she gave him.
His body surged more strongly into hers, each stroke harder and longer, going deeper until they were fully one being. He wanted her to know what she did for him, the beauty of her priceless gift. The rush took over, consumed his mind, consumed his body, until every muscle was bursting with need. Still he held her gaze so that she could see the tension on his face, the wildness in his eyes, the hunger and rapture, the sweet agony and ecstasy her body brought to his. He erupted into her, over and over, a volcano of molten seed, of burning fire, and the terrible darkness that haunted his soul. She was dragging him back to the light, and he felt the purity of it as his cries of joy echoed hoarsely throughout the cavern.
Tempest’s legs held him tightly, nearly as possessive as he. Their hearts were beating in the same wild rhythm, their labored breaths matching. He finally released her wrists and lay his head on her breast, even as his elbows held his weight from crushing her. She could feel his tongue lapping at the small beads of sweat on her breasts, and each feathery stroke sent an aftershock rippling through her. She brought her hands down to tangle in the disheveled mane of his hair, to just hold him. They lay like that, their silence speaking more than any words could have.
Darius took their combined scents into his body, the feel of her hot skin, her breast beneath his cheek, the silken strands of her hair against his sensitized skin. Every sensation seemed heightened, seemed to echo through his body and linger there. The taste of her, rich and filled with life, was in his mouth and heart, and for the first time he could ever remember, his terrible craving for hot blood was momentarily sated. He would never again be tempted to make a kill to feel a rush of power, as one so close to turning often was, when he held the ultimate satisfaction in his arms.
He stirred then, a slight frown touching his mouth. “I did not heal you properly.”
Instantly he was off her, leaving her feeling somewhat bereft. She also felt lazy and drowsy, the stifling heat of the cavern and his uninhibited lovemaking wearing her out. “I don’t care. I want to sleep. You can heal me later.” Her wounds no longer hurt, when earlier they had been burning and throbbing. He had successfully introduced her body to other, much more enjoyable sensations.
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