His mouth moved over her shoulder, stopping to dwell in the small hollow there. His tongue lapped gently, insistently, tracing the valley between her breasts, paying close attention to each nipple, a task that sent fire racing through his blood. He closed his eyes for a brief moment savoring the texture of her skin, the fire spreading through his own body. But it soon became necessary to trace each indentation along her ribs, to inspect he stomach with his tongue.
His hands moved lower still, to the slender curve c her hips, caressing the satin skin there. Beneath his palms, she moved restlessly, still drowsy, only partially aware of what he was doing. But her body was alive with need for him. He shared that, connected in her mind as he was. Darius smiled to himself, enjoying the knowledge that at his every rising she would be with him, her body soft and welcoming.
Her legs were shifting, and his hands began a slow caressing of her thighs. A soft little sound escaped her throat as she tried to decide if this was some erotic fantasy or if it was real. She had no sense of where she was, only of the mouth moving lazily but thoroughly over every inch of her body.
Darius pushed his hand into the nest of tight curls, felt her pulsing heat. As she moved to press closer, he simply lowered his head to taste her. Tempest cried out, somewhere between alarm and pleasure, her fists tangling in his hair, drawing him closer. White heat, blue lightning rushed through her and into him. The sensation was astounding, Darius feeling the way her body rippled with pleasure.
His own body was brutally relentless, so full and heavy that he was afraid he might break her if he moved too fiercely. As they shared her shattering release, Tempest’s hands moved over the carved muscles of his back to rest on his hips. Darius lifted his head, his eyes burning down into her.
Normally modest, Tempest should have felt shy. Instead she caught the images in his mind, his hungry need, and she felt like a wanton temptress-and liked it. She pushed him backward so that he lay down. Her hands inspected his chest. Smiling a little, she bent her head to lap gently at his hot skin. He even tasted masculine. With his mind firmly entrenched in hers, she could feel the fire sweeping through his blood, feel the relentless, aching need of his body. Deliberately she allowed her silken hair to fall over his sensitive skin, heightening the sensation even more.
Darius whispered her name, his white teeth coming together helplessly. She was taking her sweet time, driving him crazy with anticipation, her mouth traveling leisurely over his flat belly to find the indentations at his hips. Her hand brushed him, and his body tightened even more. He bit out her name again, a command this time, but Tempest refused to listen. Her tongue tasted him in a long slow caress that brought his hands up to clench her hair, forcing her head to him.
She had the audacity to laugh at him, her warn breath adding to the conflagration building in his body Her hand moved up and over him, testing his weight the thickness of him. Then he was shouting hoarsely The silken feel of her mouth on him was incredible. Hot tight, moist. She knew what he liked by the images in his mind, and Darius was lost to the world. Lost in the beauty of what they shared.
She teased him. Tortured him. Reveled in her power over him. He stood it as long as he was physically able to; then he dragged her head up by a fistful of red-gold hair. No matter if he was brutal, it was the only thing he was capable of doing at that moment. His hands found her waist and pulled her over him.
With their gazes locked together, Tempest slowly lowered herself over him so that he speared her, inch by inch. Her waiting sheath was so hot and moist, so tight and velvet soft, that Darius’s fingers bit deep into her hips to keep him from exploding. Where was his centuries-old self-control?
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