His hands fisted in her wealth of hair and dragged her head down to his lap. He murmured in his ancient language, the harsh tone and explicit instructions making her hot all over. She loved the urgency in his voice, the control in his hands, the way his hips thrust against her mouth. It took a moment to pick up the rhythm; he didn't give her much of a chance to get used to the thickness and length of him.
Harder. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, his throat exposed as he urged her on. She couldn't tell if he was talking to himself or to her, but the clipped, graphic need sent desire shooting through her.Take me deeper. That's it. That's what I need. Squeeze harder, suck on me .
His voice continued each whispered command rougher and wilder.All of me. Take more. You can do it . He was no longer looking to her comfort, or helping her breathe, and the demands only made her want to give up everything to him. He was fast losing control and she had never thought he ever would.
She increased her attentions, sliding her mouth over him, flattening her tongue, hollowing her cheeks until he was gasping for mercy, until he spilled over, his hot essence jetting strong before he could regain control.
More than satisfied with her success, she took over, climbing onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling her body over his still hard erection with exquisite slowness. He pushed through her tight sheath, filling her, stretching and burning until she was completely seated and she felt full and deliciously stuffed.
She began to ride him, lifting herself up and dropping back over him, squeezing her muscles, getting a feel for what robbed him of his breath and sent streaks of fire racing through his body. She loved taking his body and making it her own. There was a heady excitement in watching the breath slam out of his lungs. Of moving up and down his body, using it for her own pleasure. She rode him slowly, leisurely, refusing to give in to the urgency of his hands biting into her hips or the enticement of his tightening thighs. She took her time, letting the waves build in her, pushing her higher, sending fire streaking through her womb so that she all but vibrated with the building tension. All the while she watched him as his breath hitched, as his expression grew darker, more filled with lust.
Nicolas fought himself to allow her keep control, watching her face through half-closed eyes, enjoying the way she moved her body, the feel of her sheathing him like a tight glove. She was driving him insane with her slow, leisurely ride. She would rise up, twisting a little, contracting her muscles so her hot, silken sheath would tighten like a greedy fist around him. His body just kept building and building pressure until he was afraid he would spontaneously combust.
«Lock your ankles around my waist,» he ordered, through bared teeth.
She looked amused. «What do you want me to do?»
«I am not joking around with you.» Because she was torturing him slowly with her sensuous ride.
«Really?» Her eyebrow shot up and she lifted again, moving her hips in a small spiral as she locked her muscles around him.
Her creamy buttocks were far too tempting and he didn't try to resist, turning her skin a rosy red while reminding her who was the boss. She just laughed as she locked her ankles, gasping a little as he swung her around, setting her on the boulder and leveraging over her, locking her beneath him so he could have his way with her.
He slammed deep, driving into her the way he needed, burying himself into her so deep she went wild, exploding around him, gripping him hard as her orgasm tore through her. He continued to pound into her while her body squeezed and milked his, until, with a hoarse cry, he jerked hard, thrusting mindlessly, his hot release flooding her.
Still buried deep, his body rocking, he bent his head to her breast, teeth aching, mouth filling with the taste of her. He flicked his tongue, nipped at her.
Nicolas's teeth scraped along her breast and her toes curled. Butterfly wings brushed the inside of her stomach. His lips feathered over her pulse, his tongue rasping a light caress. She felt his bite of pleasure/pain.
Her wrist burned. A flashing image of teeth tearing at her flesh intruded. Her stomach lurched and she ground her teeth together to keep from crying out. Everything in her tensed. Waited. Screamed at him to stop.
Nicolas lifted his head, his black, hooded gaze, so sexy, so dark with desire, drifted alertly over her face. «What is it,han ku kuulua sivamet ?»
His voice was a velvet stroke, a dark caress as he called her «keeper of my heart.» How could she be the keeper of his heart when she couldn't give him everything?
«I don't think I can,» she whispered, tears burning behind her eyes. She'd managed to give blood to her aunt and that was all her mind would allow.
She detested disappointing him, especially now when she was feeling totally satisfied and loved. She wanted that for him as well. She wanted him to know she would give him everything if he asked-but she couldn't quite overcome the aversion she had. She knew giving blood was natural, even erotic between lifemates, she'd enjoyed it once, but now her stomach churned and panic set in. Everything had been so perfect and she had ruined it.
«I'm sorry,» she whispered, shamed. «I'm so sorry.»
He cupped her chin, lifted her face to kiss his way along her cheeks, collecting her tears with his tongue along the way. «Do you honestly think taking your blood every time I make love to you matters to me, Lara?»
Nicolas kissed her pulse and swept his tongue over the pinpricks there. «Tet vigyazam. I love you, it is that simple. Nothing else matters. You. Just you. I love to touch your body and make love to you, but it is you, who you are inside, that counts to me. If I cannot take your blood, will I miss that? I am certain I would occasionally. But truthfully, I would rather have you curled beside me, laughing with me, teasing, bringing me joy, than ever being with anyone else.Tet vigyazam , Lara. Forever. I love you for all time.»
She reached up to his beloved face. «Tet vigyazam, Nicolas,» she whispered, knowing it was true.
Chapter 20
Lara and Nicolas rose early the next evening, bathed in the pool and made leisurely love. The naming ceremony was in a couple of hours and Lara was looking forward to it. She could feel the excitement building in the air all around her, even from within their cave. As she dressed she studied Nicolas. The wounds were gone, but she could see the raw edges not yet healed.
«When are you going to ground? You haven't been since we've been together.»
«I will go when you are ready,» he said.
She frowned. «That's not good enough, Nicolas. I can only check a few people a day for the microbe. I'm not through with all the women, let alone starting on the men. And if the microbe is in the ground, it will be an endless, vicious circle.»
«You have to be converted, Lara.»
«I will be, just not right now.»
«Within the week. Check the women and you are done.»
She didn't reply, knowing when he got that edge to his voice that he was worried about her. She knew what that felt like when she looked at him and saw his wounds that should have been healed. And she was very aware how often Nicolas suppressed his need to protect and keep her healthy. He knew the drain the journey was on her when she was hunting the microbe and she was having trouble keeping even broth down.