Her large green eyes stared innocently up into his fathomless black ones. “Touching you.” Her palms pressed closer. “I like touching you.”
“I cannot possibly concentrate if you continue, Tempest.” He meant to reprimand her, but one of her hands had slipped free to explore the hard columns of his thighs. His breath caught in his throat. Her fingers felt so good on his skin, an erotic fantasy began to take over his mind. His sexual needs were far greater than hers.
He was a Carpathian male with a need as elemental as time to take his mate. He had promised himself he would remember that she was human and give her as much space as his nature would permit, but she wasn’t helping him at the moment.
His body hardened with a savage, aching rush of fire that added to the heat of the cavern and the pool. Her hand brushed against him beneath the water, slid the length of him, settled around him like a glove. He pushed against her, craving the feel of her surrounding him. “This will not help my concentration,” he managed to point out.
“Really? And I thought you were so good at blocking out all sorts of things, Darius,” she teased, exploring him more fully, more boldly.
He bent his head to the hollow of her shoulder, his teeth scraping roughly. Beneath the steaming water, his hand slid to the junction between her thighs. Tempest accommodated him, pushing against his palm. His fingers slid into her, urging her to climb with him. “I want you to need me the way I need you,” he whispered against her throat.
“How is that?” she asked through clenched teeth. In her hand he was growing even harder and thicker, velvet over iron. His fingers were driving her insane, taking her closer and closer to the edge of a cliff. The water swirled around them, fizzed and bubbled against their skin.
Darius lifted her into his arms, the hot water sluicing off her and onto him nearly unbearable in his sensitive state. “Put your legs around my waist, Tempest,” he ordered huskily, barely managing to get the words out. His body screamed for hers. She complied, and slowly he lowered her over his waiting shaft. At her hot, moist entrance, he paused, watching the expression on her face. He seemed large and intimidating to her, but her sheath was tight and velvet soft, gripping and enfolding him. The ecstasy of it tightening around him, slowly accepting his invasion, was almost more than he could bear.
The heat in the cavern made it nearly impossible for Tempest to breathe. Or maybe it was the way Darius lowered her with such excruciating slowness over him. She laid her forehead against his chest, gasping as his body invaded hers, ever deeper, the steam surrounding them like smoke from the fire their bodies were creating.
His fingers dug into her waist as she settled around him, taking him fully into her. She moved then. It was she, not he, who moved. She could feel the pleasure in his mind, in hers, so intense that it was close to pain. She rode him slowly, the beauty of the moment forever etched in her mind. The beauty of his face as she engulfed him, retreated, returned. It was erotic just to watch the pleasure she brought him. She knew precisely what to do to enhance that pleasure from his mind merged with hers. She snagged the images in his mind and made some slight adjustments, arching her back so that her breasts slid over his damp skin, letting her hair tumble over his shoulders, sensations he found unbearably sensual. Deliberately she prolonged the moment of release, moving slowly, then faster, slowly, then fast, her muscles clenching around him, reluctantly releasing him, then capturing him once more.
Even as she felt him swell within her, heard him fighting for breath, his heart pounding against hers, she felt her own body begin the climb toward the stars. She couldn’t concentrate on his release when she felt herself start to fragment. At once Darius took control, his hands digging into her hips, thrusting into her with sure, hard strokes, pushing her higher and higher so that he was taking her with him. They soared together, breaking free, their cries filling the cavern. Steam wrapped them together as one body, one mind, one skin.
At the end Tempest was totally exhausted. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t move, Darius. Don’t ask me to move ever again.”
“I will not, baby,” he murmured tenderly, lifting the wet hair from her shoulder to place a kiss on her bare skin. He carried her from the hot water to the next pool, which was several degrees cooler, its source outside the mountain rather than within. He sank into the water, taking her with him.
She felt instant relief and released her grip on Darius’s neck, lazily floating away from him. If she kept her eyes closed, she could pretend she was out in the open, with the sky above her and trees nearby. The oppressive layers of soil and rock simply disappeared from her mind. But she couldn’t keep her eyes closed forever. She tried to concentrate on how Darius made her feel, on the beauty of the cavern, on the glittering diamonds the volcano had produced over the long centuries.
“What is it?” he asked softly.
“Being in this cave is making me feel like a bat. It’s beautiful, Darius—don’t get me wrong,” she added hastily, not wanting to hurt his feelings, “but we’re so far underground, and it’s very humid.”
Darius swam to her, his body rippling with power, his long hair wet and midnight black. “You will get used to it, honey.”
She felt her heart jump. What did that mean? She didn’t want to stay underground long enough to get used to it. Biting her lip she forced her mind away from the issue and swam a few strokes, taking pleasure in simply watching Darius swim, the fluid way his body moved. She yawned, her movements slow, exhaustion settling into her body. It was impossible to have any real sense of time underground.
“You have had a difficult day,” Darius said as he surfaced quite close to her. His hands caught her waist and drew her against him. “I want you to rest while I perform the healing ritual on you.”
“What is it?” She was wary, but her fatigue was making her more compliant to his demands.
Darius studied her face, the shadows beneath her eyes. She was drooping with weariness. He didn’t ask for her consent; he merely lifted her into his arms and took her to a small alcove where the rich soil was soft and beckoning. He waved a hand so that a cotton sheet floated to cover the grounds, then laid her down with great care.
“You just made that sheet, didn’t you?” she murmured, staring up at him.
He brushed back the wet hair from her forehead. “You would be surprised at the things I can do,” he said softly.
“I don’t think I would anymore,” she countered.
“Do not distract me from my task this time, Tempest. I will free myself from this body, and my energy will go into yours. I can heal your wounds from the inside out. The healing process is much faster, and if any infection is present, I can rid your body of it. But I cannot be aware of my own body during this time. My focus must remain on what I am doing. Do you understand? I cannot reenter my body abruptly when I am really in yours. So do not distract me in any way.”
She lay very still, watching his face. He was withdrawing from her—she could see that. Withdrawing from the world they were in, he turned his entire attention inward. She wanted to touch his mind with hers.
It was becoming easier for her to do, but she didn’t want to take any chances on distracting him, the very thing he had said not to do.
Tempest felt him then. She felt his entry into her body, pure energy moving through her, like an inner light, examining her, warm and soothing. In her mind she heard a voice. Soft, comforting, it whispered like butterfly wings in her mind. The words were none that she knew. Still, she knew she had heard them before. A chant. She tried to distinguish individual sounds, but it was impossible. She received only impressions, like silvery bells, like water skipping over rocks in a brook, like a gentle breeze floating through the leaves of a tree.