“I know that.” He had trapped her very neatly into admitting to herself that she was not unclean, for she had entered the church. She wanted that truth to sink into her heart and soul and live there, freeing her from the weight of guilt and self-hatred. She lived. It mattered little that her life had been a form of hell. She was alive, and the vampire who had murdered her family and countless others was dead at her hand.
Nicolae’s face was hidden by the shadows recess of the cave, but she could see his eyes. Hungry. Intense. Needful. Burning with desire. He robbed her of every protest. Robbed her even of self-preservation. She tasted his desire in her mouth. It spread through her bloodstream and pooled into molten liquid, pulsing and throbbing for release. Her body felt strange, not her own. Heavy and aching.
Nicolae’s gaze locked on hers. He could smell her beckoning scent. He could read the confusion in her eyes. It didn’t matter how much his body was screaming at him. His heart was melting, even as his body craved hers with an obsession he couldn’t overcome. “You have not fed, Destiny. Why is that?” His voice was a whisper of sound in the confines of their underground chamber. A husky invitation that nearly brought her to her knees.
Destiny went weak at the sound of his voice. She watched his fingers slip the buttons of his shirt loose. Watched in complete fascination as he tossed the silk aside to reveal his powerful chest. His muscles were subtle, but well defined. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the wide expanse of skin. The breadth of his shoulders. The thickness of his chest. His narrow waist. The strength in his arms.
“I can’t breathe.” She lifted her gaze to his face. “I can’t breathe, Nicolae.”
Destiny looked so fragile, so vulnerable, so lost. Nicolae stepped toward her and caught her face in his hands. He bent his head to hers, taking possession of her mouth, breathing for her, sharing his air. Sharing his strength.
At once the fire raged. Deep. Hot. Elemental. It flashed between them, in them, burning from the inside out. She simply surrendered to his dominance, her tongue dueling with his, a wild tango of mating. Of its own accord, her body went soft and pliant, molding itself to his, her breasts pressed tight to his chest. Her hands moved over him almost helplessly, as though moved by a compulsion to feel his skin beneath her fingers. The kiss went on and on. Neither could get enough; each wanted to crawl into the other’s soul, into the other’s skin, into the other’s body.
It was sheer possession. A wild branding. Lust and love rising up swift and fast, intertwining, spinning out of control to create a firestorm, turbulent and white-hot. A soft sound escaped her throat, a keening mixture of fear and need. When he heard, Nicolae reluctantly began to exert his control, pulling back slightly to allow her to escape.
Her arms circled his neck and brought him back to her hungry mouth. He had been alone so many centuries, searching, waiting, needing her. She had been cut off from the world. Yearning for him. Clinging to him. Pushing him away at the same time to protect him. To save him. Her mouth was wild, fanning the heat up another notch. There was no saving either of them. She was helpless under the onslaught of his mouth, needing to be closer, demanding to be closer.
I am not going to be able to stop. There was a plea for mercy in his voice. His hunger for her consumed him. He fed on the honey of her mouth, taking rather than asking, a dominant male in the full grip of passion, yet there was a tenderness in the way he held her that only added to his appeal.
Don’t stop, then. “Never stop.” She whispered the words into his mouth. “I don’t want you to stop.” And she didn’t. She was beyond being afraid. She was terrified. But that was nothing to her in the firestorm of her need. It consumed her, this obsession for him. Her body burned and throbbed and pulsed for his. Pleaded for his. And when he was kissing her, there was nothing else in her mind. No monsters. No deaths. No guilt or memories of wailing victims. There was only pure feeling. There was only Nicolae.
His hands slipped from her face to follow the smooth line of her neck. “Are you afraid of me, Destiny?” His teeth tugged at her lower lip, the one he found so intriguing, so impossible to resist. “I feel your heart slamming so hard.” His hand lay over her heart, fingers splayed wide so that her breast ached and her heart pounded into the very center of his palm, as if he were holding it. “I do not want you to fear me, or to fear our joining. Coming together in love is a beautiful thing, not an act of despicable violence, but something unbelievably wondrous. Do you trust me enough to join your body with mine?”
Before she could answer, his mouth took hers again, his hunger ravenous. His hands slid lower, cupped the weight of her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples into hard peaks right through the material of her shirt. Destiny gasped as the sensations plunged her body into a volcano of need. Her legs threatened to give out. Her clothes were too tight, too heavy on her body. “Nicolae.” Raw sensual hunger was in her voice. She opened her eyes to look at him, to search his dark gaze.
Passion stamped an erotic sensuality into the perfection of his masculine features. He was no boy, but a dangerous, powerful being, yet she saw his vulnerability.
“Say yes to me, Destiny. Let me make you mine.” She was drowning in need. In hunger. In what had to be love. If it wasn’t love, why were tears shimmering in her eyes and clogging her throat? Why was she fighting to save him? “You know what will happen. You know, Nicolae. You’ll want to take my blood, and I would let you. I would never be able to find the strength to stop you.” She whispered the words while his hands slid over her ribcage to find her waist. His hands tugged at the hem of her shirt, his knuckles skimming bare flesh. She burned and pulsed and waited for his rejection. It was the only answer for them. His enduring strength.
Chapter Ten
The sound of water dripping mingled with the accelerated rhythm of their hearts. The flickering flames in the stone urn danced over their bodies and bathed them in mystical light. There was a heartbeat, two, while his eyes locked with hers. His fingers bunched the hem of her shirt into his fists and he drew the light material over her head in one swift motion.
Destiny heard the hitch in his breath as his gaze dropped to her body. His hands went to her waist, a burning brand that seemed to melt through her skin. She reveled in the intensity of his gaze, the way it moved over her body, hot, possessive, claiming her very soul. She knew his mind was firmly entrenched within hers, allowing her to experience the extent of his hunger for her. He hid nothing from her—not the way she made his body feel and not the way he wanted to touch her. Not the way he needed her so desperately. So urgently.
Destiny felt an answering wildness rising in her. Clothes seemed a foreign intrusion, a heavy weight she could no longer bear against her sensitive skin. The thin lace of her bra chafed her skin, prevented his heated gaze from caressing her. Even as his hands caught her waist and he bent his dark head, dragging her body to him, she reached behind her to undo the tiny clasp.
His mouth closed over her breast, wildly hot and moist, suckling right through the thin lace, his teeth scraping gently, expertly so that she cried out and cradled his head to her. Destiny’s knees nearly buckled, the sensation was so strong, so overwhelming. Her fists clenched in the thick silk of his hair, holding him to her while his tongue danced and stroked and his mouth pulled strongly, creating a burning, throbbing pool of need in her deepest core. The friction of the lace and the heat of his mouth drove her crazy. She arced into him, giving herself up to sheer pleasure.
When he lifted his head to attend to her other breast, the scrap of lace floated freely to the ground. His lips found bare flesh, ravishing her with his mouth alone. His tongue lavished attention on her, teeth teasing until she cried out, her fists tugging at his hair. She really was going to fall. There was no way to stand up; all strength had drained from her legs. Only his arms held her up.