Dark Slayer (40 page)

He pounded into her, his shaft a steel-edged sword, piercing her womb and her heart, taking a part of her into him, just as a part of him was deep within her.

“It is already too late,” he whispered, and his voice was that of a dark angel. A whisper of velvet, a lash of heat.

It was too late to save herself; her body was already lost, would forever need his. He had driven her so high she had to fly. He dragged her closer and leaned over her, his body still surging into hers, over and over, a piston that never stopped, never slowed, until she thought she might scream again with the wonder of it. She felt her body tighten. And tighten. Gripping his. Squeezing. She could hear the sounds of their bodies coming together, the hard slap of flesh; felt the power of him moving within her. His body tilted one more time and he dragged the long length of his hard shaft over her sensitized clit.

Her body went rigid. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her body tightened around his thick shaft, clamping down almost painfully as the rippling sensations began building into a giant tidal wave, spreading through her body like a flash fire, white hot and powerful. Wave after wave. Never ending. A shock that put her system on overload. She wept with the force of her release, the beauty and wonder of it, as she felt her body take his, forcing him with her, hearing his hoarse shout as his hot seed emptied into her.

She felt his bite, the pleasure-pain of it, and her body clenched and rippled again and again as he took her blood in an erotic exchange. She arched her back, thrusting upward with her hips as her body continued to clench around his, squeezing down on him, milking every drop from his body. He swept his tongue across the swell of her breasts, closing the pinpricks and looked down on her with his sexy eyes.

Just his look made her body react again, another wave washing over both of them. She raised her head to capture his mouth with hers, kissing him, holding him to her as she kissed her way down his throat. She felt his shaft harden again that fast, filling and stretching her as she licked at his pulse. A harsh groan escaped him.

Her teeth nipped his skin and she felt the instant jerk of his erection. She bit down and he slammed his hips hard, burying himself deep, holding her bottom with one hand, forcing her to accept his wildly plunging body. She felt the taste of him exploding inside of her, filling her with his essence. She’d never felt so complete. So loved. She swept her tongue across the pinpricks on his throat and let her body go up another time, this time without resistance.

She could hear her own soft gasps, smell their combined scents as the waves broke over her again and again before he found his own release.

They lay together, their arms around each other, their bodies joined, neither wanting to move. It was several minutes before Razvan found the strength to move, rolling off her to stare up at the glittering ceiling, his fingers linking behind his head.

“Give me a few minutes and I will carry you to the pool.”

He turned his head, his smile tender, sending her heart somersaulting. He looked different. Younger. Happier. That same serenity was there, but this time there was love looking back at her with pure, undiluted happiness and joy. She wished she could share her emotions with him aloud, but she contented herself with surrounding him with the deepest feelings she had for him, overwhelming love, so much she couldn’t give voice, even telepathically.

His fingers moved over hers, stroked small caresses until she linked her fingers with his. “Thank you, Ivory.”

“For what?” A smile escaped. “I think I should be thanking you.”

His smiled widened. “You have given me the most beautiful experience of my life. Whatever else happens, I will always have the memory of you giving yourself to me.”

“I was afraid,” she confessed in a low voice.

“I know you were,” he said gently, “which made your gift all the more treasured.”

“Are you really going to carry me to the pool?”

“Don’t sound so scared,” he teased. “Somehow I will manage to find the strength. I promise, I will not drop you.”

She tightened her fingers around his. “I know that. I just might feel silly.”

“No one is here but us, Ivory,” he pointed out, his tone more tender than ever.

She felt her heart twist again. He could do that so easily to her. Move her. Make her melt. It wasn’t his incredible body or the way he took her to such heights, it was that enduring love he seemed to have for her. A rock. A foundation. Strong and accepting that made her feel as if she could always count on him.

“I know.”

“Do you think I will think less of you?”

She was silent, contemplating his question, turning it over and over in her mind. She just felt ridiculous feeling about him the way that she did. Why couldn’t she let herself go in the way that he did?

“I don’t think I know how to be a woman.” She didn’t know how else to say it.

Razvan turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Ivory, you are
my
woman. You do not have to be like any other. I do not want any other. There is no comparison. Be who you are. Make no apologies, certainly not to me.” A small smile curved his mouth and he leaned forward to brush kisses over her mouth. “I love the way you are, that little reluctance you have to tell me I am the greatest man in all the world.”

His soft laughter stroked over her skin. He sounded so boyish, carefree even, less inhibited for the first time in his life.

He managed to climb to his feet and lifted her, cradling her in his arms as if she were as light as a child. “You have worn me out, warrior woman.”

Ivory couldn’t help laughing. “If you were truly the greatest man in all the world, you would not be worn out. You would be ready to service my every need.”

His eyebrow shot up. “I believe that is a challenge.” He fastened his mouth to hers as he took her through to the next room where the water spilled out of the rock wall into the smooth basin. “I am more than up for servicing your every need.” He whispered the words against her mouth, his tongue flicking over her lips, savoring her taste.

“Really? I am not quite as certain.” She used her haughtiest tone.

He dropped her into the water. She came up sputtering to find him standing there, hands on his hips, the water lapping at his thighs.

“That was so mean.”

“You deserved it.”

“Maybe I did,” she agreed, laughing.

He was teaching her how to have fun. To play. To take each moment they had together and live it well. In the spirit of learning, she sent up a plume of water with deadly aim. The water shot over his face and splashed down his chest.

“I thought you might need a little cooling off.”

His eyebrow rose. Amusement lit his eyes. “I think you just declared war.”

She stuck out her chin. “I think I did.”

The water fight was fast and furious. Water geysered nearly to the ceiling and splashed against the wall. Twice he launched himself at her, bringing her down like a crocodile might its prey, rolling her under the water before she could wiggle away from him and surface to attack again.

She threw herself at him, arms circling his neck, and body slammed him, taking them both under and when they came up, they rested on the side of the warm pool and let the bubbles fizz against their skin.

She rubbed her arms and glanced upward as if she might be able to see the sky. “I can always tell when the sun is about to rise. My skin prickles and becomes uncomfortable. Most Carpathians can stay out in the early morning hours but I cannot.”

“Not at all?”

She rested one hip against the smooth basin and wrung out her hair. “My skin is so fair, all the years spent in the ground away from even moonlight while I was healing, and I get burned. More like a light sunburn, I guess, but I blister fairly easily.” She smiled at him as a memory came to her. “Once, I found a bottle of sunblock a hiker had dropped. I tried it.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I take it that didn’t go very well.”

“Not really, no.”

“Have you tried staying up longer while you are here, underground?”

She rubbed her arms again, shivering a little. “Sometimes when I get working on experimenting with new chemicals to hold the vampire in place, I do not feel the sensation for a while, but most of the time, I am so uneasy, I just go to ground.”

“Your formula to coat your weapons is brilliant.”

She sent him a quick, pleased smile, a little shy when he gave her compliments. “I am still working on it. It needs to last a little longer before their blood eats through it. The more time I give myself, by preventing them from shifting, the more of an edge I have.”

“
We
have,” he corrected.

She nodded. “We have,” she agreed.

“Is your skin hurting now?” Razvan asked, clearly prepared to carry her back to their bedchamber.

“Not really. It is close to dawn though. Very close.”

She liked being with him. She hadn’t thought she would. She had been alone for so long she thought it would be uncomfortable to share her space with him, but she enjoyed his sense of humor. He was an intelligent man, quick-witted yet he lacked an ego, which might have made it difficult for someone like her to be with a partner. He was peaceful, and she often found herself wanting to just stand beside him, to feel the way his serenity radiated from him to surround and hold her. Truthfully, she found him sexy and rather intoxicating.

Razvan smiled at her. “I am reading your mind.”

She tossed her head. “Do not read too much into whatever I was thinking.”

Razvan lowered himself into the water, ducking his head and then coming up fast right beside her, his hands skimming up her thighs, over the curves of her hips, along her tucked-in waist and higher up along her rib cage until he was holding the soft weight of her breasts in his palms. “I think you should read my mind.”

Before she could reply he dipped his head and drew her nipple deep into his mouth. It mattered little that he had already made love to her twice, that her body had been sated. She instantly felt the heat swamping her. His wet hair slid over her abdomen and teased her mound as he tugged and teased and suckled.

She held him there for a moment, savoring the pleasure filling her and then she dipped her fingers beneath the water and found his erection already growing firm. At the touch of her fingers his shaft jerked and pulsed. She smirked, realizing the power of her touch as she caressed his hard length with strokes before wrapping her fingers around him to enclose his hard flesh in a tight fist.

Razvan lifted his head and looked at her with dark, hungry eyes. “What are you doing?”

“A little exploring of my own.”

He leaned back until his hip brushed the wall of the basin to steady himself. Her touch left him weak, his body shuddering with need.

“You could always sit,” Ivory suggested, her voice silky, “as this may take some time. I am very thorough when I explore.”

Swallowing hard, Razvan sat up on the very edge of the smooth rock, allowing his legs to dangle in the pool. His erection throbbed against his stomach, rock hard and growing by the moment. When she cupped his balls and leaned down for her first tentative lick, his breath exploded from his lungs. When her mouth took him, he was lost in her body, in her mind, in everything she was to him.

Razvan fisted his hands in her hair and held on, knowing this was the beginning of a wild ride with his beloved lifemate.

16

“W
hat is this?” Razvan looked over Ivory’s shoulder, his body watched her work.

He had awakened that evening with the feeling of her fingers caressing his skin. The wonder of having Ivory in his life, in his bed, his soul merged with hers, was beyond anything he could ever have imagined. Their lovemaking had been gentle and tender and then turned ferocious and wild.

Hunting had been fun together. They had watched the rising moon burning across the snowcapped mountains, pouring silver across the midnight blue skies to spotlight the sparkling snow layered across the meadows and hanging in the trees. They flew through the sky together, high above the trees, wing tip to wing tip, the wind ruffling feathers, both caught up in the freedom of the owls soaring, wheeling and dipping, performing acrobatics just for fun because they could.

Somersaulting with her, talons linked, Razvan knew that everything he needed was here, in this one woman. She had saved him with her smile. With her inner beauty. Her soul. She had become his own personal miracle. He wasn’t altogether certain the earth had healed him. She had. With the colors she had provided, bringing life to his world. With the joy she had restored, so that each moment meant something to him. She had replaced the shadows in his eyes, in his heart, with love. She had replaced the darkness in his soul with light.

He swallowed hard, his chin nuzzling her shoulder as he peered at the book she had open as she studied her books in her workroom. He could see she had written in the ancient text and he read the words to himself, frowning over them.

The mage walks forth as the Hell Gate closes
Lightning strikes with his first order
Energy spirals from his fingertips
A spell does form upon his lips
Tall and dark, handsomely slender
His silver eyes burn like lighted embers
A power, a presence one cannot explain
A drawing feeling that will not leave the brain
A longing, a yearning that burns like fire
To be wanted and taken with heated desire
The mage walks forth unfolding his arms
His victim comes quietly, succumbed by his charms
The embers of passion burst forth in flame
As the mage draws heart’s blood from deep within
Consuming all, leaving no remains
The victim languishes in untold pain
The mage, having taken body and soul,
Now turns from the broken to seek one who is whole
The pattern is set, the ending the same
The mage needs heart’s blood to be whole and remain