Embarrassed again by the molten heat spreading through her body, Corinne tried to look away. Dayan’s hand spanned her throat. “I want you to want me. Just for this one moment in time.” He bent his dark head toward hers, slowly, relentlessly, his black gaze mesmerizing her so she couldn’t breathe. Her lashes fluttered in anticipation, her lips parting slightly.
He took his time, in no hurry to end the moment, inhaling her fragrance, gathering her close to him, his body slanting protectively, possessively over hers. He could feel her body, soft and pliant, every curve pressed snugly into the hardness of his own powerful frame, and he savored the differences between a man and a woman. He could feel his blood heat, and he allowed himself the luxury.
Corinne watched the expression in his eyes change from black, sensual possession to a strange, almost predatory stare. Red flames seemed to dance in the very depths of his gaze, and he looked fiercely hungry and all at once threatening. Before she could react, before she could think to protect herself, Dayan’s mouth found hers and time simply stopped for both of them.
His mouth was gentle, even tender, a direct contrast to the strength of his arms and the powerful muscles of his body. An electrical jolt flashed through her, through him, and a thousand tiny tongues of flame began to lick along every square inch of her skin. There was so much sensation, she could only cling to him, her mouth taking on a life of its own, matching the hunger in him as he fed on her. The long, drugging kisses made her feel as if the bed was spinning out of control beneath her and her body was no longer her own. She was drenched in hot fire, filled with aching need. She made a small sound of protest, yet her hands sought his back to hold him to her.
Nothing in her life had prepared her for such a firestorm of need. She had to have him right at that moment. She wanted him to possess her for all time. Her body seemed empty without him, every cell crying out for him. If she hadn’t been pregnant, if it hadn’t been risky, she would have become his entirely.
He was everywhere around her, blocking out the room, the world, narrowing her vision until only Dayan existed with his perfect mouth taking hers, his hands moving over her in a gentle exploration. Corinne closed her eyes as he deepened the kiss, as his hand shaped her breast, pushing aside the neckline of her blouse to explore the vulnerable line of her throat.
His mouth drifted to the corner of hers, moved along the curve of her chin to her soft throat. He murmured something soothing as if to quiet her, as if she might struggle. On some level her brain was protesting her behavior, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t lift her lashes, and self-preservation didn’t seem to be so very important in that moment. She felt his tongue sweep over the pulse beating in her neck; his strong hands gathered her closer still. Her body clenched and pulsed with need, with anticipation. His teeth scraped gently, teasingly over the throbbing spot, drenching her with hot answering liquid. She felt she might be drowning, yet she couldn’t move, so mesmerized was she by his black-magic spell.
White-hot heat flashed through her, a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. For a moment she couldn’t tell the difference. Then she was drifting in a dream world as Dayan indulged his erotic hunger, his mouth moving over her pulse, feeding on her until she thought she might die of pleasure. Her arms crept up to cradle his head to her, to hold his mouth against her skin.
Dayan heard his own heartbeat pounding in his head, roaring like the beast inside him trying to break free. The ritual words beat in his brain like a drum, filled his mind and heart and soul as he drank. Her blood was sweet, intoxicating, the pleasure coursing through him like wildfire. Fiery hot. The roar increased until his body was going up in flames, urgent, demanding, painful with need. He whispered her name like the talisman it was, forced himself to breathe, to hang on to his sanity, to fight the raging beast and its demands. His tongue stroked across the two tiny wounds, closing them with the healing agent in his saliva, resting his forehead against hers while he fought for total control.