"Our joining."
No more needed to be said because she understood. They were joined, not physically-not yet-but joined in a way that was even more tangible. Undeniable. She didn't understand the implications or mechanics of it. They were not two separate entities. They were one. She'd needed him before, but now she would die without him. She sensed it, knew it in the deepest part of her being.
"I am nothing without you," he said, echoing her thoughts. "Do you feel how much I hunger for you?"
She did. God, she did. His hunger mingled with her own, purring within her veins.
"You are more important to me than air," he said. "More important than water. You, Grace, are my only necessity."
"I love you," she said, at last giving him the words in her heart. As she spoke, the contentment that had always remained elusively out of reach was suddenly there and hers for the taking. So grasp it she did, holding Darius closer. He encompassed everything missing from her life: danger, excitement, passion.
Fire flashed in his eyes. Reaching back, he peeled his shirt over his head. "I'm going to give you everything you crave, sweet Grace. Slow and tender now." His lips lifted in a fleeting smile. "Hard and fast later."
Anticipation shivered through her. She threaded her palms up the strength of his chest, over his ribs and nipples, over his tattoos. He sucked in a breath. His tattoos were slightly faded, not as red and angry as before, but still there. Still sexy and warm. Her mouth watered for a taste of them, and she rolled him onto his back. Leaning down, she licked a path along the colorful dragon wings, savoring the salty taste. His muscles jumped at the first stroke of her tongue.
He slithered his hand between her legs and played; the fabric of her jeans created a dizzying friction. She moaned, arched her neck, and became lost in the breath-takingly sensual caress. Everything within her sprang to life, even places she hadn't known existed, starved for more of his attentions. She ached to be filled. By Darius. Only Darius.
He claimed he had done horrible things, but deep down she hungered for that fiercest part of him. For the wildness. The danger. She might have tried to deny it upon occasion, but she'd always known the truth. He was her every fantasy; his presence alone offered her more excitement than any challenge or adventure. When she was with him, she felt whole. She felt alive.
She felt vital.
"I want you naked." Darius didn't wait for her response, couldn't, impatient for her as always, he did exactly what he'd done before. He gripped the neck of her shirt and ripped. Underneath he found lacy green fabric, her sexy belly ring and a light outline of a dragon tattoo.
He traced the edges with his fingertip. "Look," he told her.
Lost in sensation as she was, a moment passed before she obeyed. When she did, she gasped. "What the-I don't understand. I have a tattoo." Shock dripped from her tone, and her stunned gaze went from the tattoo, to him, to the tattoo. "I've never gotten a tattoo in my life."
"You bear my mark," he said, rolling them over once again and easing her down. "I am a part of you forever."
He tore the green material in half, just as he'd done to her shirt. Her breasts were lush and lovely, and the sight of them made him tremble. Tremble like a boy. He palmed one then the other, loving the way her eyes closed and her back arched, a silent entreaty for him to continue. He moved down her body and sucked a nipple into the hotness of his mouth. She gasped his name like a reverent prayer.
He sucked harder.
"Oh, God," she groaned.
Her knees clenched around his waist; her hands gripped his hair. He continued to knead one glorious breast, abrading the pearled nipple between his fingers while he laved and sucked the other. Like raspberries, they were, pink and rosy, sweet and delicate. One of his hands gravitated to her belly, fingering the delicate silver loop.
All the while he teased himself between her legs. She moved wildly against him, then with him. When she was gasping incoherently, he jerked at her shoes, then her pants, tugging them down and kicking them from her ankles with his foot. The sight of her, lying under him in only a pair of lacy emerald panties, nearly made his heart stop. Such beauty. His beauty.
He drove his fingers past the delicate lace and found the silken heat of her. She was wet and hot. Ready. But he wanted her beyond ready. He wanted her desperate. Using the tip of one finger, he smoothed her moisture over her soft folds, gently grazing the center of her desire.
"Yes," she said, curving into his touch. "Yes. Touch me there."
"You need to be filled, Grace."
"Yes. Please."
He slowly sank one finger inside her, then another. "Are you ready for more?" A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He bit her neck, making a small sting, then he licked it away as he thrust those fingers in a delicious rhythm.
She cried out and lifted her hips. His shaft strained for her, but he worked another finger inside her. How he loved the feel of her tightness. Her moist heat. Soft, mewling sounds escaped her lips when he circled his thumb around her clitoris.
"I'm ready," she said. "I promise I'm ready."
With a growl, he latched on to her mouth and drank from her. He didn't deserve her, but the gods had given her to him and he was going to do everything within his power to make her happy. She would never regret giving herself to him.
"I want to kiss you here," he said, again circling his thumb around the very heart of her wetness.
Her eyes closed in surrender. As generous as she was, his Grace wasn't content to take pleasure only for herself; she insisted on returning it. "I… want to kiss… you here," she said, between panting breaths, slipping her own hand between them and cupping the long, thick length of him. "Who gets to go first?"
Those beads of sweat grew into a fine sheen over his entire body. She craved excitement, he thought, and so he would give it to her. "We will both go first."
Her tongue shot out and traced her own lips, taking in the residual taste of himself he'd left behind. "Really? How?"
In a total of two seconds, he removed his pants, then her panties, leaving them both completely naked. He gathered her into his arms and settled on his back, placing her on top. He'd never given a woman a chance to take him in her mouth. Picturing Grace's red curls spilled across his abdomen, over his thighs and cock, picturing her teeth grazing his length and her mouth sucking him deeply, nearly made him come.
"Straddle me," he said, surprised he still possessed a voice. His need pounded through his veins. "Do not face me. Face the other direction."
Her nipples pebbled further, and she gazed down at him with an expression of utter longing. Slowly she did as he instructed. Her back was long and slender and perfectly proportioned. He caressed a fingertip down each vertebra, and tiny bumps of pleasure appeared on her skin.
He clasped her hips, tugged, scooting her closer and closer to his waiting mouth.
"Now lean over," he instructed.
Languidly sensual, she moved her mouth toward his thick erection. Her warm breath fanned his heavy testicles as he lifted his head and licked into her slick heat.
At that first contact, Grace screamed her pleasure. Not an orgasm, but close. So close. Her hands clenched Darius's hips. He continued to lave her, and she inched the thick length of him into her mouth-and almost screamed again. The eroticism of having his shaft nestled in her mouth while Darius tasted her very essence proved earth-shattering.
"This is what I meant when I said I wanted to eat you," he rumbled, the vibrations resonating into her.
His words and actions combined, bringing her swiftly to a torturing climax. Her body jerked and quivered as a thousand lights sparked past her mind. Pleasure, so much pleasure. She tore her lips from him as his name ripped past her throat. "Darius, Darius, Darius." The heat of it branded.