Dark Guardian. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 9

He had to tug her to him, bring her against the hard strength of his body, hold her tightly so that he could feel every inch of her satiny skin. She was delicate beneath his exploring palms, fragile, a perfectly formed woman, and he had every sweeping line, every curve, committed to memory. He found himself murmuring to her in the ancient language, words of love, of commitment, words he had never spoken to another being in the eternity of his existence.

Words for her. Words only she gave meaning to. He loved her, every inch of her, worshiped her, mind and body and soul. His hands were gentle as he laid her down, finding a soft bed on the rich soil, using her gossamer skirt for a sheet. The sight of her lying there looking so trustingly, so lovingly up at him took his breath away. Time and space fell away. In his world there was only Jaxon. Her need of him, her hunger for him, was in her dark eyes, on her face. It was in her mind. Wherever he led, she intended to follow him, a willing partner.

Lucian bent his head to her breast, savoring the feel of her creamy skin. He wanted this night for lovemaking. Maybe the next rising also. He wanted the luxury of taking her again and again without hurry, with no fear of interruption. He wanted time to show her, tease her, please her. He wanted her to know the full beauty of their life together. Make love to her again and again. His hands moved over her legs, her thighs. “Do you have any idea just what you mean to me?” His black gaze moved over her face, inspected her body, his eyes hot and smoldering with desire.

She smiled then, loving the way his eyes devoured her with such hunger, such intense need. His body was hard and taut, burgeoning with urgent demand. His hands stroked her thighs, shaped her hips. He turned her over easily, exploring the clean line of her back, her tiny waist and firm buttocks. Lucian bent over her, blanketing her smaller frame with his. His teeth nipped her shoulder, his hands skimming along her ribs, the softness of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the smooth line of her rounded bottom. He caught her hips, lifting her so he could pull her back against his throbbing shaft. Just the feel of her satin skin, the shape of her body, sent molten lava spreading through him, flames dancing over his skin.

“I want you, angel, right now,” he murmured softly, his black-velvet voice washing over her like his hands worshiping her body.

He pushed against her, rubbed closer, his hand once more finding moist, damp heat beckoning him, ensuring him she was ready. He pressed against her creamy entrance, hot and slick. She was tight, her channel gripping him as he pushed deeper, invading her body with his, his hands holding her hips still as he buried himself again and again, long, hard thrusts of sheer ecstasy.

Colors danced behind his eyes. His heart pounded. His hips thrust forward aggressively. His teeth held her shoulder with the ancient dominance of the Carpathian male. Fire raged through him, over him, so much pleasure it was almost more than he could take. She moved then, her body so delicate and soft and feminine, the complete opposite of his. He shared his pleasure with her, the building, sweeping firestorm that threatened to engulf him.

Jaxon pushed back against him, making a small sound of submission, indulging the growing wildness in him. They were both spiraling out of control, her body winding tighter and tighter, his hips thrusting forward in a frenzy, welding them together, closer and closer. She caught every desire in his mind, adjusted her body instinctively to accommodate him, just as he did for her. Her body seemed to tighten, to clench, then ripple with fiery release. His hoarse shout was muffled against the smooth skin of her shoulder. It was like an explosion of color and light, the earth itself moving under them.

Lucian gathered her to him closely, pressing his large frame tightly into hers while waves of sensual pleasure washed over them, through them. They were both covered in beads of sweat. He sipped several, following the line of her spinal column to the small of her back.

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