«Vikirnoff.» Just that. His name. His name. The breathless plea sent him careening out of all control. Every muscle in his body tightened to the point of pain. Every nerve ending in his body was alive and shrieking for release. The sensation built like a volcano, a strong powerful rush that shook him. He had never felt such intensity, such a feeling of need and hunger and possession as he did at that moment. Lust and love seemed intertwined, inseparable. His fingers dug into her skin and fangs exploded in his mouth. He fought back the urge to take her blood as he neared the edge of his control.
Natalya's soft breathless gasps and moans drove him over the edge. Her body was like hot silk, her feminine channel as tight as a fist, squeezing and gripping until the friction and heat burst through him like molten gold.
His release was shattering and took her with him, so that her muscles convulsed around
him, over and over, powerful contractions that kept them both gasping for breath, lungs burning and bodies on fire while the world around them fragmented. Even his powerful legs turned to mush so that he leaned over her, gripping her thighs for support.
She looked an offering, lying back so that her breasts thrust upwards invitingly, her legs sprawled open to allow him to stand between her thighs. Her hair was in wild disarray and her eyes were half closed, long lashes fanning against her cheeks. «I can't move.»
«Neither can I.» In truth he didn't want to move. He wanted to stay buried in her for all time. She was a haven, a secret refuge that offered glimpses of paradise. He stroked her thighs with the pads of his fingers, needing to touch her, needing the intimacy of being able to touch her so freely.
«You didn't take my blood.» She didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved. In all honesty, the craving was in her veins, in her mind, so strong she felt the lengthening of her incisors and the taste of him in her mouth.
His gaze jumped to hers. Hot. Hungry. The intensity stealing her breath.
«I have not discussed such a thing with you, Natalya.» His accent was much thicker than usual and set her heart pounding.
«Why?»
«I will not take that decision from you.» He had made up his mind to honor her wishes. He wanted her acceptance of him as much as she wanted it of him.
She was all too aware of his body locked so deeply inside of her. Of his hands stroking her thighs, moving up her belly to brush her breasts. She should have felt vulnerable splayed out as she was, but she felt utterly sexy. Wanted. Needed even. It was in the heat of his gaze and the stroke of his fingers. In the way his body stayed hard and thick and throbbing with fire even through the catastrophic explosion between them.
Natalya reached up to run her fingers through the silk of his hair. «I have to find the book. If I were to make a blood exchange with you, would it affect the way I am able call upon the elements? My magick is a part of me, like breathing. If magick was lost to me, I wouldn't know who I was anymore.»
He closed his eyes. He was wholly Carpathian, born a hunter, a shape-shifter, able to command the things of nature. He didn't have to give up his world or who or what he was. Would she still have all her abilities? He couldn't give her an answer. Vikirnoff groaned and bent toward her.
Natalya responded eagerly, fusing her mouth with his, delighted that the action drove him deeper into her and set aftershocks rippling through her body with enough force to start new ones. When he lifted his head, she kept her hands on his shoulders forcing him to look into her eyes. His hips moved in a gentle, almost lazy rhythm, sending spasms of pleasure
through her body. She wanted to be a part of him. Of his life. But she wanted him to want her for herself. For who she was, not because some ancient words had bound them together, or because the universe had decreed they belonged.
«You look sad, ainaak sivamet jutta, what are you thinking?»
«Aren't you sharing my mind?»
«Not at this precise moment. I enjoy watching the expressions on your face. Right now, while we are connected and sharing the joy in our bodies, you are looking sad. I must endeavor to find better ways to please you.»
A faint smile curved her mouth. «I think you're well aware that you please me. Stop fishing for compliments.»
He moved to adjust his angle just slightly as he pushed deep with a hard stroke, heightening her pleasure even more so that a small gasp escaped and the sadness disappeared from her eyes to be replaced with something altogether different.
«Vikirnoff, what is ainaak sivamet jutta?» Another moan escaped as he plunged deeper again. «The exact translation.»
«It means 'forever to my heart connected.'» He shrugged, a slight movement of his wide shoulders. «Or fixed. Forever to my heart fixed. The words are interchangeable.»
Her gaze drifted over his face. «Am I? Am I connected to your heart?»
«How could you think otherwise?»
Natalya didn't have an answer for that. She had confidence in her intelligence, her courage and her abilities in most areas, but not that of a woman. Of a partner. She had never thought in those terms and the ideas in his mind of what a lifemate should be were very far from what she was-or could ever be. She wanted to be his ainaak sivamet jutta, but she had doubts he was seeing her realistically. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the ecstasy of his lovemaking, unwilling to think too much about the future.
She lost herself in his body, in the absolute magic they created together. She craved the feel of his hands on her body, the feel of his skin and muscles, the power of him as he took her. There was an edge to him, as if he could be ruthless in his lovemaking, pushing her beyond any limit she had ever thought she had, all the while heightening her pleasure, keeping her wanting more. Always more.
Time slipped away from her. There was only Vikirnoff and his hands and mouth and body. Each time she thought it was over and they would rest, he was there again, demanding again, wanting her. Hungry for her. She felt the scrape of his teeth and swirl of his tongue. There wasn't an inch of her that didn't go untouched, untasted, unused, but all the while he was wringing gasps of pleasure, moans and pleas for more.
He carried her to the hot springs and settled her on his lap where he could bathe her. Limp with fatigue, deliciously sore, she buried her face in his neck. «Thank you for not taking my blood. I feel the need in you, but you were so careful.» His pulse pounded beneath her lips, the strong ebb and flow of life that beckoned and called and tempted.
«I told you I would not.»
«Still, I would have let you,» she confessed. «I wasn't thinking straight.»
«I told you I would not,» he reiterated. «If it is important to you, I will always remember, even when I am not thinking clearly either.»
She turned her head to lie against his shoulder so she could look up at his face. There was male beauty in the lines etched there as well as other traits she was becoming familiar with. Vikirnoff wore power and dominance as easily as other men wore clothes, yet it was so natural to him, so intrinsic to his personality, she had accepted it in him without much thought, because he tempered those things with integrity and fairness.
«I'm beginning to like you.»
His smile was brief, but it flared in his eyes and her heart, as tired as she was, responded with a quick beat. She smoothed her fingertip across his lips.
«That is a start.» He tugged on her wet hair. «You could be hard on a man's ego if he allowed it.»
She laughed. She couldn't help it. She wanted to spend all night making love every way they could and feasting on each other's body. «I doubt anything could dent your ego, Vikirnoff. The water feels so good.»