Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

The thought terrified him. What if he was somehow bringing Tempest to that very edge? Their minds were already continually reaching for each other. Could he be placing her in danger? Would Julian have the answer to that? Distasteful as it was, he would have to ask Desari’s lifemate for his knowledge in this matter. Pride meant nothing if Tempest was in harm’s way.

He turned to look at her again. She was exquisite Everything about her touched him, brought out intense feelings, whether protective, sexual, or emotional. He found himself fascinated by the line of her throat, the span of her waist, the curves of her breasts and rib cage and bottom.

Tempest wrung out her hair carefully and waded out of the pool. She was within a couple of feet of Darius before she scented the husky call of his body, felt the heat rising from his skin. She grinned at him, teasing challenging, a faint, derisive quirk of her lips at his obvious discomfort. “Having a problem?” she taunted aloud.

He was magnificent. There was no other word for hi; body. And it amazed her that she could produce such a reaction in him, in a creature so powerful and controlled as Darius almost always was. That she could send him so out of control mystified yet excited her. It was exhilarating, like leaping onto the back of a tiger and hanging on for dear life.

Darius waited until she sashayed past him before reaching out to claim what was his. He merely caught her arms from behind, then moved them forward to place her hands on the flat surface of an accommodating rock. At once his body trapped hers, pushing aggressively against her bottom while his seeking fingers assured him that she was creamy with her own need of him. He caught her hips firmly and surged into her tight, moist sheath. It was slick and hot, waiting for him. Darius allowed himself the natural instinctive domination of the males of his race. His teeth found her shoulder and pinned her in place while he buried himself again and again with hard, long strokes.

Tempest felt the sweet rush of fire consuming her, the strength in his hands gripping her hips, the hard thickness of him plunging deep within her, only to withdraw and return. She felt his mouth on her skin, the white heat as his teeth pierced deep and he held her in a submissive position. A part of her felt intensely vulnerable, but he was adjusting his position to accommodate the tightness of her feminine sheath, and all the time he was building the fire higher, ever higher. She could feel her body tightening, gripping his, beginning to spiral outward. She didn’t want it over so soon, so fast. She wanted this time with him, afraid it might never happen again once they were back in her world, the world she knew she belonged in. This was too much. Too much of everything. Too much fire and too much feeling.

“Darius.” She breathed his name in a whisper, somewhere between agony and ecstasy.

“Only Darius,” he growled against her skin. “You are mine.” Somewhere deep in his heart he knew she still thought of them separately. That he wouldn’t stay with her, that she could walk away, would walk away at some point. She wanted him yet was terrified to need him, to be part of him, no Darius without Tempest, no Tempest without Darius. He, on the other hand, had accepted that almost from the first moment he laid eyes on her. His body swelled, hot and slick, velvet steel, and still he moved, wanting to prolong the moment, wanting to bring her to a fever pitch.

He wanted to hear those soft little sounds she made in her throat, the ones that melted his heart and sent arrows piercing his soul. Those sounds drove him crazy. In his mouth was the delicious taste of her, and against his skin was the feel of hers, bare and soft and so vulnerable, all for him. He savored the moment, prolonged it, reaching higher and higher until her body was gripping and clenching around his, wringing his very essence from him, milking an explosion of heat and flame, a firestorm of ecstatic pleasure that consumed them both.