Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
I think you’re seducing me.
It didn’t sound like a protest to him.
No, sívamet, you are seducing me. It was the truth. He couldn’t look at her or touch her without wanting more.
He indulged himself for one brief moment, sucking her nipple into the heat of his mouth, stroking with his tongue, giving her the edge of his teeth. He used his fingers to produce the same rhythm, kneading and tugging on her other breast. She gasped and arched into his mouth, her body growing hot and flushed.
He kissed his way to the thundering pulse just on the upper curve of her left breast. Without hesitation, he sank his teeth deep, hooking into that vein. She cried out at the piercing pain that instantly gave way to erotic heat.
Both hands came up to cradle his head as he shared with her the near ecstasy he was feeling as he took her blood.
Is it always like this?
She was panting, her breathing ragged, body on fire.
Only with you. Your blood is special to me, as mine is for you. He stroked her breasts, traced her ribs, slid his calloused fingers lower to her belly. She had such a perfect feminine form. It was pure hell forcing himself to take enough for a second blood exchange and stop. He swept his tongue across the twin holes in the swell of her breast and lifted his gaze to hers.
He knew his eyes were blazing hot. He was all male Carpathian in that moment, claiming his mate. It took every bit of discipline he had not to utter the binding words that rose from the darkness in what was left of his soul. He let her see two thousand years of need. Of hunger. Of relentless pursuit. The determination that he would never let her go.
It is your turn. Remember my taste. It is already on your tongue, Ku Tappa Kulyak. You are so courageous. His chest was bare to her. They were skin to skin. His fingernail lengthened and he drew a line over the heavy muscle precisely where she had taken his blood before. Drops of crimson instantly beaded up.
He didn’t force her mouth toward those tiny ruby drips. Instead, he collected several on his finger and put them on his tongue and then bent his head to hers. Instinctively she leaned against the cradle of his arm, parting her lips for him. His tongue teased hers, stroking and caressing, transferring the taste of him right down her throat and straight to her bloodstream.
Safia moaned and then swallowed convulsively. Even the delicate motion of her throat was arousing to him. He lifted his head, breaking the kiss, eyes glittering down at her. He knew she couldn’t fail to see him as a full Carpathian. A dangerous, merciless predator, ruthless beyond all means.
He didn’t try to hide from her because he belonged to her. He would use every trait he had to keep her safe. He gave her as much of himself as he could without frightening her. The more often she saw him as the ruthless predator he was, the more quickly she would be able to accept who he truly was.
Safia blazed a trail of kisses from his mouth to his throat using that same butterfly touch that sent his body into overdrive. It was the lightest of caresses, the whisper of wings brushing against his jaw and under his chin, down his throat, over the heavy muscles of his chest. Everywhere her soft lips touched him, she left behind flickering flames on sensitized nerve endings.
Like colors and emotions, his physical reaction to her was overwhelming, but he didn’t want to blunt that. He wanted to feel every sensation. Savor it. Lock it into his memory and hold it close to him. When he was with her, there was no thought of anything or anyone else. She filled him with emotions he hadn’t known existed. If he’d felt them in his youth, he didn’t remember them.
Her lips made their way to the line of ruby beads, her silky tongue tentatively touching the corner of the laceration. The touch was like a torch burning a brand through skin, muscle and bone.
He cupped the back of her head with his palm. I will help you, sívamet. Another feeding and you will be able to do this yourself without my aid.
She preferred to do things by herself, his independent woman. She was tentative, but willing to try. The moment the taste of him was on her tongue, she hadn’t resisted.
Yes, please. Help me.
The sultry note in her voice was nearly his undoing. He was proud of her courage. She hadn’t pulled away, hadn’t showed fear or repugnance. And she’d asked him for help when that wasn’t her nature. A man could find himself worshipping a woman like her.