Dark Peril (28 page)

“I don’t have a razor.” She didn’t want to walk out nude in front of him and she couldn’t find much to wrap around her. “And I need a robe.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she bit down hard on her lip. He’d asked her not to cover up her body and that was the first thing she was looking to do. But honestly, did women just walk around naked in front of their men?
Without shaving their legs first?
She should have asked Juliette or MaryAnn that question, too.

Dominic suddenly appeared behind her in the mirror, a good foot taller than she was. He seemed to dominate the small space and it wasn’t just his physical frame, but the power emanating from him. He held power in his eyes and voice, compelling her without physical force to do as he wished. Or maybe it was really her, so desperate to keep that look she loved so much on his face.

Out of reflex, she tried to cover her breasts with her hands, but he caught her wrists and held her arms outstretched, away from her body.

“Look how beautiful you are. For me alone. Do you have any idea how appealing that is to a man who has had no one of his own for centuries? You are my other half and I find you incredibly sexy.”

She met his eyes in the glass. There was a dark lust there, a glimpse of a stark, raw hunger that made her shiver in anticipation. His heavy erection, the evidence of the truth that he found her sexy, lay hot against the small of her bare back through the thin fabric of his trousers. There was something very decadent about being nude, staring at herself in the mirror, arms outstretched, with Dominic fully clothed, watching her with a predator’s stare and standing so close just behind her.

His arms wrapped around her even as his hands came up to cup the weight of her full breasts in his palms. He watched her in the mirror. She could see her eyes go cat, slumberous, her lashes falling as his hair brushed her bare shoulder.

“Stay this way for me,” he murmured softly as he lowered his head to the pulse beating so frantically in her neck. “Open and giving.
My
woman.”

She felt the rasp of tongue, a stroke of velvet that sent a tremor through her body.

“You are my woman?”

It was a question. When he asked a question, he required an answer, no matter how difficult it was. She was trembling, her body in need just from the way his hands lifted her breasts so possessively. “Yes.” It was barely a whisper, but she managed.

“Your skin is so soft, my little cat. Like the fur of your jaguar, only better. Silky soft.”

His teeth scraped along her pulse and the breath left her lungs in a rush. Her breasts heaved, nipples so hard they were small beads. His thumbs brushed against her, featherlight, and then his fingernails sent a fire bolt careening from her nipples and through her belly to lodge with white-hot heat in her core.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispered. A temptation. “Say
please
. Ask me for this.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her mind was already accepting—no, not accepting,
craving—
the erotic bite. His fingers stroked over her breasts, then rolled and tugged her nipples until she thought she might fall. She couldn’t look away from the sight of him. So handsome. All that black hair falling like a shimmering deep waterfall on the darkest night. His eyes burning with passion, with desire, his arms so strong around her. She’d never seen a more erotic sight than the two of them in the mirror.

“Ask me,” he prompted. His teeth took a small nip, sending streaks of fire through her veins.

She could barely breathe, let alone talk, but she wanted this moment for herself as much as for him. “I want you to take my blood,” she whispered.

He waited. One heartbeat. Two.

Her womb clenched. Her feminine channel spasmed. For one moment she thought she was on the verge of an orgasm. She was so close, riding the edge, and he had done no more than touch her breasts and take tiny nips over her pulse. She was wet and needy, the pressure building at an alarming rate, pushing her farther and faster than she’d ever gone. Her cat had always driven her sexual needs, and this craving was frightening but impossible to ignore.

“Please take my blood,” she whispered, knowing her need was as great as his.

His teeth sank deep and she cried out as pleasure and pain merged together, bursting through her body like a star exploding. White lights danced behind her eyelids. Her body went boneless, so she felt as if she’d melted into him. His fingers were on her breasts, yet she felt them between her legs, stroking, penetrating deep. Or was that his tongue stroking deep inside of her? The pressure built and built while the white-hot heat consumed her.

She didn’t want him ever to stop. Fire roared in her womb and spread through her body. Her brain seemed to seize, until there was nothing in her mind but pure pleasure. Every thought disappeared, every embarrassment. There was only Dominic and his magic mouth and hands. There was only the fire burning through her body. She felt the first ripples of an orgasm and gasped, no sound coming out. The rush was strong, ripples swelling in strength, gathering speed and momentum, tearing through her body like a massive quake. She heard her own strangled sob of pleasure as if from far away. Her legs went weak, but Dominic’s strength kept her up.

Open your eyes for me.

The soft command was a sinful whisper impossible to ignore. Her lashes fluttered once before she managed to find the ability to lift them. She found herself staring into the mirror. Her body was flushed with pleasure. Her mouth was open, her eyes glazed and bright, her breasts swollen, cupped in his big hands. Behind her, he loomed large and powerful, surrounding her with his arms, his mouth against her neck while his long hair fell in a shimmering cascade of silk.

Was that her? Sexy and uninhibited with the most sensual man on earth? She could feel his heavy erection pressed tightly against her. Had she done that? Brought his body to such a state? Her womb nearly convulsed at the erotic sight. She’d never considered herself a sensual being, but Dominic saw her that way, and looking into the mirror, she had no choice but to see herself the same way.

His tongue slid over the small pinpricks, closing them. He rested his chin on top of her head and just watched her in the mirror, holding her while the tremors eased in her body.

“Look how beautiful you are, Solange.”

“That’s how you see me.”

“This is how you are. I see true.”

She couldn’t bring herself to ask aloud, but she wanted to give him the same kind of pleasure. Dropping her gaze from his in the mirror, she managed to use the more intimate means of communication.
I have no idea how to take care of your needs the way you have mine, but I’d like to try . . . please.

He gave a soft groan and brushed a kiss over her hair. “This is your time,
kessake
. When you reach the point where my need is your need, I will teach you all you need to know. The beauty is in the giving. You need this right now, becoming comfortable with who you really are, not in pleasuring me. That is only an added complication for you and one more thing for you to be nervous over. I do not wish you to be afraid of who you are, not when you are with me.”

“Who do you think I am?”

He smiled and her world tilted.

“You are a sensual, passionate woman in every sense. You just need time to discover that.”

She wasn’t certain how she felt, both a mixture of disappointment and relief. He’d effectively allowed her to relax a little now that she knew nothing was expected of her, but still there was the continual relentless aching pressure and welcoming dampness that didn’t seem to go away. And, if she was being honest, the desire to explore his body. She wanted to be the woman who could give him pleasure.

Dominic held out one hand, still retaining possession of her left breast with the other, his thumb almost lazily brushing her nipple. While she shivered against him, and aftershocks rippled through her body, a long robe appeared across his palm. “For you, Solange.”

She loved his voice, that low, sexy tone that made her feel so special. She looked up at him as he enveloped her in the soft folds. The robe draped over her body. Sensuous. Filmy. Barely there. She could see her body, every curve, through the midnight blue of the fabric in spite of the silver dragon star constellation scattered across the material. The robe enhanced and emphasized her curves rather than hid them.

“Thank you, Dominic,” she whispered, running her hand over her thigh.

She felt shy. A little embarrassed at her wanton behavior. Again, she had a difficult time looking him in the eye. Jaguars had no problem holding a stare, and all her life no one, male or female, had been able to lock eyes with her and not look away first. With Dominic, she couldn’t seem to meet his direct gaze.

She didn’t know what to think about her appearance. He made her feel so different about herself. It was difficult not to get caught up in the spell he wove. She felt not only feminine, but sensual. Her body was very sensitive, every nerve ending alive, raw and focused on him.

“You are very welcome.”

Dominic stepped back, allowing her to slip past him. It was strange walking in the transparent robe, the dancing light spilling over the constellation so that the dragon gleamed as if in the night sky. She could feel his eyes on her and every single step she took sent more heat rushing through her body. She was so damp she knew the evidence of her need gleamed between her legs. He was Carpathian; he couldn’t fail to scent her arousal.

She forced herself to keep walking, and if there was an added sway to her hips she couldn’t quite stop, she was going to blame it on the robe. Who could wear such a thing and not feel particularly sexy, especially under his burning stare, and with his compliments spinning around and around in her mind?

She reached the edge of the basin and shrugged out of the robe almost reluctantly. Just as her jeans and tees were her fighting armor, the sensual lingerie made her feel feminine and attractive. The material seemed to hide as much as it revealed. She felt flawless in it, yet the moment she shed it, she felt strangely exposed.

His hand reached over her shoulder for the robe and she relinquished it, knowing that garment would always be a particular favorite no matter what happened. While wearing the robe, for the first time in her life she felt wanted as a woman. She felt sexy and even beautiful. The robe was as magical as Dominic. Standing so close, with him behind her, she was conscious of his heat, of the absolute control he seemed to have over both of them, and of his enormous strength. As a female jaguar, she looked for those qualities in a mate, and he had them in abundance.

She slipped into the steamy water and gratefully sank deep. The heat eased the soreness in her muscles. “Dominic, this feels so good.”

He moved into the shadows, sitting in one of the two armchairs, almost hidden from her. One candle flickered with just enough flame to occasionally throw light across his face. A warrior’s face. Dark. Mysterious. So tough. He was beautiful to her. She ducked her head under the water and rinsed out her hair. Strangely, even that familiar action seemed sensuous.

Solange allowed her head to rest against the side of the rock pool. She knew Dominic was watching her. The light spilled directly across her, probably spotlighting her breasts under the transparent water. The flame turned the water into prisms of color, drawing the eye, but with Dominic in the shadows, it was almost like her dreams when he would come to talk with her.

“I am glad you are enjoying your bath. I could tell you were still sore from your wounds.”

She flashed a small, tentative smile. “You actually healed the worst of them. I just have a few aches and pains. Nothing serious.” She hesitated.

He waited.

She cupped a handful of water and watched it run through her fingers. “You made me feel cared for.”

“You are cared for.”

Her gaze jumped to his. Her stomach fluttered at the impact of meeting those dark, mysterious eyes. “Thank you.”

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

She frowned. “I’ve never been anywhere. Never. I’ve only lived here in the rain forest, but I used to dream of traveling. I would have loved to see all the different rain forests in the world. My aunt sometimes talked of far-off places. I used to pretend I was a princess, like in the stories she read to us, and a prince would come along and rescue me.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I stopped needing to be rescued a long time ago.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured. “Or perhaps you simply stopped dreaming.”

“What about you? Where would you want to live if you could live anywhere?”

She heard the chair move slightly, as if he had shifted positions. She glanced up and saw his hooded eyes drift over her. Instantly she was aware of her body again. It was the look in his eyes, she decided, that made her feel so sexual. Her cat wasn’t in heat, yet she was. The burning between her legs just kept growing as if her body would never quite be sated. The craving for him seemed endless.

He wanted her to know herself as a woman and for his needs to become hers. She was fast approaching the point of needing him. She thought she’d been relieved when he’d told her that he expected nothing of her, but now her palms itched to touch his skin. She found herself sitting in the heated bath and fantasizing a little about taking him into her mouth, just to see what he tasted like, and most of all, what it would feel like to have him inside her, relieving the relentless ache.

“I have traveled all over the world and gone to the highest peaks, and the densest jungles. The Carpathian Mountains will always be my homeland, but my home is a woman. Solange Sangria.
You
are home to me. Your body is my home. Your mind. Your heart and soul. It matters little to me where we are.”

She inhaled sharply. Now she wished she could see his face more clearly. “Are you saying we could live anywhere in the world that I wanted?”

“You have only to wish it.”

There was no way to hide the shock on her face, and she knew he saw it by his sigh.