Dark Challenge (12 page)

Desari lifted her head from the warmth and temptation of Julian’s chest. Her enormous eyes were soft with sadness. “I know you do not understand, but I can do no other than return to my family right now. I refuse to continue being irresponsible, selfish, when my brother has given so much.”

She expected Julian to argue with her, and her hand, positioned over his heart, trembled. Julian’s golden eyes drifted possessively over her upturned face. His burning hunger, so intense, so blatant, took her breath away, stole her resolve. How could a man need her so much? How could he show that need to her without ego or fear that he would be totally vulnerable? How could she turn away from such an honest burning need? “Julian.” She whispered his name, an aching desire, feeling torn between two strong men, two loyalties, one she didn’t even understand.

“We have a few short hours until the dawn,
cara
. If
you insist on returning to Darius, then we must do so.” His voice was a soft, mesmerizing spell, seductive and masculine. Just the sound of it threatened her precarious will. His words said one thing, while his blatant, sexy heat whispered something altogether different.

“Julian, you have to stop looking at me like that,” she cautioned him, something blocking her throat so that it felt impossible to breathe. She tried to pull her gaze away from the intensity of his. “I cannot think when you look at me like that.”

His hand moved over the silken mass of her hair, his fingers rubbing the strands against the pad of his thumb as if he couldn’t help himself. “Have you always been an entertainer?”

There was a note in his voice, a drawling caress of admiration and sorcery that set her heart beating fast. He disarmed her entirely with that lazy, Italianate drawl of his. His question also threw her off track. It felt like a seduction, though it was innocent enough. “Yes, I always sang. We traveled to different continents every twenty-five years or so. That way no one ever noticed we did not age.” His hand, the one that had been so innocently fingering strands of her hair, had somehow slipped to her shoulder. Those fingers were now rubbing heat right through the thin material of her top so that she felt as if his skin were connecting to hers. Her voice faltered as she lost her train of thought.

Julian bent closer as if to soothe her. “Please continue. This is extremely interesting. I searched centuries for lost Carpathians but had given up hope. How all of you accomplished what you did is extraordinary.” His fingertips moved to the neckline of her shirt absently tracing its delicate embroidered edge.

Desari swallowed as little flames licked at her skin, as her breasts reacted to the pad of his thumb sliding
sensuously over the soft swell. She glanced up at him, determined to reprimand him, but he was looking intellectual and earnestly interested in whatever she had been telling him. Except for his eyes. His eyes were molten gold and burning with a liquid fire that seemed to consume her, to mesmerize her.

“I have no idea what I was saying,” she finally admitted, her voice so husky it was an invitation.

His body crowded closer to hers, not touching, simply so close his heat and masculine scent enfolded her, surrounded her, swamped her. It called to her as nothing else could have. “You were telling me about traveling around from place to place singing.” His voice was aching with need.

She heard it clearly, and her body responded on its own, dissolving into liquid heat. Desari cleared her throat. “We simply became our own ancestors if someone remembered us. It was seldom necessary, as we made certain we stayed away from areas for decades at a time. Dayan is a poet, a master with words, and no one is better on a guitar. Syndil, too, is a wonderful musician. She can play almost any instrument. Actually, Barack is the same way. He seems to really enjoy playing for our audiences.” She gave him the information, but her mind was on the fact that his fingers had slipped inside her neckline and were moving hypnotically back and forth as if he were memorizing the feel of her.

“Barack and Dayan.” Julian repeated the names softly. There was the smallest bite to his voice, his perfect teeth snapping together, reminiscent of a hungry wolf. “Those two act as if they have certain rights where you are concerned.” There was a cruel edge to the set of his mouth, a darkness in his golden eyes. “They do not. In lieu of your father, Darius is the only one you are answerable to until your lifemate claims you. I have done so.” He
leaned forward as if drawn beyond his own will and touched her collarbone with his lips, the harshness in his face at once softening. The touch was feather-light, but it penetrated her skin and made straight for her heart, setting it pounding with some emotion she didn’t want to try to understand.

His mouth moved, a trail of fire running from her collarbone up to the pulse beating so frantically in her throat. Her soft mouth trembled, long lashes sweeping down to cover the luminescent glow in her dark eyes. She should stop him. For her own sanity, she should stop him. But his mouth was moving slowly, gently, a heated exploration not at all aggressive.

Desari tried desperately to marshal her thoughts. “You have claimed me?”

His fingers tangled with hers. He brought her hand to press against the muscles of his chest, his thumb feathering with false innocence over her pulse. He felt it jump as his lips drifted lower, pushed the limits of the neckline of her shirt, where the creamy invitation of her breasts swelled in anticipation. “I have. You are bound to me.” He whispered the words into the valley between her breasts, and her entire body clenched with such need that Desari felt weak.

She swore there were flames dancing over her skin. She actually looked down, expecting to see little orange tongues of fire licking along her skin. She shivered and tried to withdraw her hand, tried to put some much-needed space between them. “You believe I am. I do not.” Desari found that where her head was certain she wanted to move, her body refused to cooperate.

His laughter was low and husky with male amusement at its worst. “You cannot possibly think you could get away from me now.” Julian transferred his attention to her arm. His lips skimmed along her bare skin, stopping
to dwell in the sensitive inner elbow before moving on along her forearm. Then he was doing something to her inner wrist, his teeth scraping over her skin, making every muscle in her body clench until she thought she might have to scream with need. “I would not be much of a lifemate if I could not hold what is my own, now, would I?”

As he bent forward over her arm, his golden hair was brushing against her skin, and she closed her eyes against the waves of heat rising so sharply between them. In spite of herself she smiled. “You are every bit as arrogant as Darius.” She liked the feel of his hands, the molten gold of his eyes burning over her. She even liked his arrogance.

“Mmm,” he murmured rather absently, clearly distracted. “Am I?” His hand glided over her rib cage until he found the edge of her shirt. “You know you love everything about me.” He buried his face in the waves of ebony silk cascading around her shoulders and down her back. “I love the way you smell.” His hand slipped beneath her thin cotton top, his fingers splayed wide to take in as much satin skin as he could.

The sensation was beyond her wildest fantasy. So hot. Reaching into her insides and simply melting everything. “I thought we were going to talk,” she said a little desperately. Her arms seemed to have a will of their own, sliding around his neck. For a moment she closed her eyes, savoring the heat of his body in the coolness of the night.

“I am talking to you,” Julian whispered. “Do you not hear what I am saying?”

His voice moved like velvet over her skin. How could she not hear him? Inside her body, Desari felt a volcano of molten heat erupt. It raced through her, thick and heavy and hot and aching. She wanted him, and he
needed her. Could it really be that simple? She turned up her mouth to the demanding invasion of his.

Julian swore the ground moved beneath his feet. De-sari knew she heard the roar of thunder and felt the blue-white lash of lightning. Julian kicked open the door to the cabin and managed to make it inside, his body raging. The beast within, ever present, fought for supremacy. Julian fastened his mouth to hers, a little out of control, a soft warning growl emanating from deep within his throat as she tried to lift her head.

His hand spanned her throat, holding her to him, holding her as if she were a part of him. Holding her as if she was the most precious thing in the world and he couldn’t be without her. His other hand skimmed her waist, then stopped to rest there, hot and urgent even though his palm was lying quietly against her skin. De-sari was so aware of it, aware of how close it was to the most intimate, sensitive parts of her body. She ached for him. Wanted him. She was beyond thinking rationally; she wanted his hand to move. Either direction, it didn’t matter. His mouth was hot and hard, yet velvet soft, demanding her complete surrender. And then his hand did move, finding the tiny catch at the front of her lacy bra, and her breasts spilled free. It was such a small thing, but her entire body felt wild and untamed and in need.

She felt the moan rising from deep within her soul as his hand caressed the full rounded underside of her breast. It amazed her that he could make her feel such intense pleasure when his palm was simply cupping the weight of her breast. Her mouth was open to the invasion of his, her body receptive to his every advance. When his hand encircled her breast, his palm pushing against her erect nipple, she gasped and pulled her
mouth free so that she could taste his skin, so that she was free to do her own exploring.

She could feel his hand shaping her, tracing the curve of her breast, the soft, swelling invitation, her nipple, aching and hard, pushing into his palm. Desari slid her own hands under his shirt, found his heated skin, the ridge of defined muscles, the golden hair spreading across his chest. He made her feel so alive, so completely feminine. He made her feel restless and hot, her body a cauldron of creamy liquid fire.

Julian caressed her breast, marveling at the sheer perfection of her body. It was amazing to him, the satin texture of her skin, the silken feel to her hair, the heat rising between them, how small and delicate she felt beside his own strong body, yet her every muscle was firm and supple. Her hands were driving him crazy, threatening not only his tenuous control but his very sanity. His body was raging at him, so hard with the need for release that his clothing felt tight and unbearable against his flesh.

Desari tugged at his shirt, heedless of the buttons flying in all directions. She needed to burrow as close to him as possible. Julian’s body trembled, driven beyond the boundaries of endurance. The feel of her hands on his heated skin only served to arouse him further. His body went rigid as her mouth moved over his chest, began to trace a path down the fine trail of gold hair.

Julian caught at the neckline of her shirt, easily parting the material, tossing the lacy scrap of bra aside so that her skin gleamed invitingly in the darkness. His breath caught in his throat at the perfection of her. His hands spanned her waist, bent her backward so that her breasts rose up to meet his descending mouth. She was luscious, beautiful, everything good and perfect in the world.

His mouth was hot and moist, closing around her, all heat and fire so that flames erupted inside her, inside him, like a firestorm. With each strong pull of his lips as he fed on her, there was an answering rush of hot, creamy liquid as her body called out urgently to his, a rush of swelling heat from his own body.

Julian’s hands slid down along her waist to the slender curve of her hips, pushing her faded jeans and silken panties ahead of them. Her legs were satin smooth, firm to his touch yet so soft as he trailed his fingers back up along the inside of her thighs. His mouth left her breasts for just a moment so that his tongue could trace the tiny indentation of her belly button, then once more returned to the temptation of her full, soft breasts. His hand slipped between her legs to find moist heat.

Desari cried out, a soft, musical note that reached inside his body and ignited a blazing inferno in him that began licking at her skin, his skin, her body, his, their very insides. Without thought her hands worked at the confines of his trousers so that he burst free, hot and demanding, his body enflamed beyond redemption. She could feel his hand pushing against her, so that her body felt heavy and unfamiliar, hot and aching with urgent need. She moved her hips, seeking release from the building torment. Julian’s fingers delved deep, testing her readiness, pushing her temperature up another ninety degrees. Hot cream met his caresses, and her nails raked his broad back. Her breath came in convulsive gasps.

“
Dio, cara mia
, you are so hot, so ready for me.” His voice was raw and hoarse as he tugged her with him farther into the cabin, his mouth still on her breast, his teeth gently stroking her tender skin, his tongue easing the slight ache.

She went with him, every step nearly impossible when she was going up in flames, his fingers stroking rhythmically,
his mouth pulling at her, his teeth an erotic teasing that made her so wild and uninhibited she was moving urgently against his hand.

Julian’s teeth moved along the curve of her breast, his tongue lapping gently in the deep valley. His hands caught her and carefully, gently, lowered her onto the thick quilt of the bed. Kicking aside what was left of his clothes, he immediately knelt over her so that her slender body was trapped beneath his.

Desari’s breath escaped in a long gasp as his massive frame descended on hers, skin to skin, as she felt the hard strength in him, and the long, hot, thick length of him pressing aggressively against her thigh. Her heart seemed to stop beating. Fear or anticipation, excitement or apprehension, panic or impatience—she had no idea what she was really feeling. Everything all at once.

Julian’s knee nudged between her legs so that he could press his sensitive velvet tip against her heated, moist entrance. At once her body bathed his with hot cream, sending waves of urgency spreading through him. His mouth captured hers, and he eased a little deeper inside of her. His breath slammed out of his lungs. She was so tight, a sheath of fiery velvet gripping him, taking him into her body. The feeling was so close to ecstasy, he had to clench his teeth, to use every ounce of control to force himself to go slowly, to allow her body time to adjust to the invasion of his.