Dark Fire

Chapter Eight

Tempest was gone. Beneath the earth, black eyes snapped open, burning with fury. The ground rolled slightly, an ominous rippling across the park's surface. Then Darius rose, bursting into the air, soil spewing like a geyser all around him. He felt the curious, disorienting wrench, then the overwhelming sense of loss, the black stain spreading across his soul.
His breath was coming in painful, hard gusts. Red flames flickered and danced in his eyes. There was a pounding at his temples, and deep within him, the beast roared and raged, demanding to be unleashed.
Darius tried to regain a semblance of self-control. Tempest didn't understand his world, the necessity of death. In her world, she clung to the belief that one who killed was bad. He battled with his own hard arrogance that she dared defy him, dared to leave him. Most of all he battled the beast within, strong now and demanding that he claim what was rightfully his.
Rise. All of you, rise and come to me now.
He issued the order to his family, knowing they would obey.
They gathered around him, their faces serious. Only a few times over the centuries had Darius called them this way. Dark fury was etched into the harsh lines of his face. There was a cruel edge to the beauty of his mouth. "We will get her back. Before all else, she will return."
Desari glanced uneasily at her lifemate. "Perhaps we should not, Darius. If Rusti has run a second time, it is her wish not to stay with us. We cannot force her to our bidding. It is against our laws."
"I feel her desolation beating at me," Darius declared, his fury mounting. He was more dangerous at that moment than he had ever been. "She fears me, fears our life together. She is aware of what we are."
A collective gasp went up. The members of his family stared at one another. Barack broke the shocked silence. "True, she has seen some things unfamiliar to her, but it cannot be that she knows all, Darius."
Darius regarded them impatiently. "She has known since the first day. She is no threat to us."
"Any human who cannot be controlled is a threat to us," Barack said warily. He moved subtly to place his body in front of Syndil.
"Rusti is no threat," Syndil chastised softly. "You were eager enough to use her to feed, despite the fact that she traveled under our protection."
"Aw, Syndil, do not start again," Barack pleaded. "You've just begun speaking to me again. Do not get all worked up once more."
Darius waved a hand impatiently, dismissing the argument. "I cannot survive without her. She must be found. Without her I am lost to the undead. She is all that matters in my world, and we must retrieve her."
"No," Desari gasped, unable to believe that her brother could be so close to turning.
It was Julian who shrugged casually. "Then we can do no other than return her to our family. She is young, Darius, and human. It is natural for her to fear what we are, to fear your strength and power. You are no easy man to deal with. You need patience."
The burning black eyes settled on Julian's face for a moment; then some of the tension eased from Darius's shoulders. "She is hurt and alone. She does not understand the need to merge her mind with mine. She fights herself continually. I am worried for her health." Darius sighed softly. "And she seems to have a penchant for getting herself into trouble whenever I leave her on her own."
"That, I fear, is a woman thing," Julian declared with a wry grin. Desari thumped Julian's chest. "Where is she, Darius?"
Tempest sat huddled on the seat near the window, peering out with sightless eyes at the countryside flashing by. She had been lucky to flag down a bus once she made her way to main highway, even luckier that the driver had allowed her on board. But the farther the bus carried her from Darius, the heavier her heart had become. It was now like a leaden weight in her chest. Sorrow was pressing in on her. Grief. As if by her leaving him, Darius had died. Intellectually she knew it wasn't so, but in her resolve to get away, she firmly forced herself to stay away from the path to his mind. And that left her feeling unutterably alone and lonely.
She could hear small snatches of conversation flowing around her. A man, two rows back, was snoring loudly. Several young people were laughing together, exchanging travel stories. At least four military men were on the bus, returning to their homes on leave. Everything seemed to flow around her as if she wasn't there, as if she were no longer alive.
Tempest knew blood was seeping from the puncture wounds on her rib cage and most likely from the scrapes down her back. Someone was bound to notice if it didn't stop soon. She tried to concoct a plausible story, but she couldn't keep her mind on anything but Darius. It took every effort, every bit of concentration and control not to call out to him, not to reach for him when she needed him so desperately. Her shoes were squishing with her own blood. If anyone really looked at her, they'd probably turn her over to the authorities. She huddled down farther in the seat. She just wanted to disappear, become invisible. Even her clothes were damp from her plunge into the stream. She hadn't returned to the campsite, so she had no money, no tools, no plan. More than anything she wanted to feel Darius beside her.
The miles accumulating between her and Darius were putting more and more of a strain on her. She could feel tears burning behind her eyes. It was becoming difficult to breathe. Even her skin was sensitive, needing the feel of his. Tempest closed her eyes tightly against the pounding in her head, the constant strain of keeping her wayward mind from reaching out to his.
"Looks like we're running into a freak storm," the bus driver announced, peering through his windshield at the sky.
The weather was indeed changing rapidly. Rising directly in front of them was a huge cloud shaped like a dark, old-fashioned blacksmith's anvil. Almost instantly the bus hit a sheet of driving rain, so thick and hard, it was nearly impossible to see. Swearing, the driver slowed the vehicle significantly. The rain turned an ominous white. The driver ducked instinctively as hail pounded the roof and windshield. The sound was alarming, like the chatter of a machine gun.
The hail soon took the driver's visibility to zero, am he slowed even more, trying to reach the side of the road. The only warning the passengers had was the hair on their necks standing on end before the flash of lightning struck directly in front of the bus. Thunder crashed shaking the mammoth bus, rattling the windows. There was silence for perhaps ten seconds, then several girl screamed and a child began to cry. Just as abruptly a the hail had started, it stopped.
The driver peered out, trying to see as he parked the bus, hoping he was safely off the road. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud, and thunder crashed again. Staring out the windshield, he found himself ducking as a huge owl flew straight out of the driving sheets of rain.
"What the hell?" he demanded, even as the creature veered away at the last possible moment. Thinking he was safe, the driver leaned forward to check visibility Instantly a second bird, than a third, flew directly at the windshield. The birds were huge and vicious-looking. He yelled and covered his face with his arms.
There was another eerie silence, broken only by the rain. Then the driver found himself reaching to open the door. He swore he saw a huge jungle cat flash by in the rain, striking terror into his already pounding heart but even so, his hand continued to open the door. He couldn't stop himself, no matter how hard he tried. Hi: hand was shaking as he gripped the release. Outside he could hear the beating of wings, strong and ominous. He could hear whispers, insidious whispers, urging him to open the door. Yet he sensed that when he did, he would be letting in the devil himself.
A man's solid frame filled the entrance. He was tall, muscular, his face in the shadows. As hard as he tried, the driver could not see his features. He had only the impression of enormous strength and great power. The dark stranger wore a long, swirling black trench coat that added to his mystery. Only his eyes, burning with fire and suppressed rage, gleamed like a predator's stare from the shadowed face. The man ignored the driver and turned his black, merciless gaze on the passengers.
This time the silence was complete. The wind and rain ceased, as if nature itself was holding its breath. Tempest peeked out at the imposing figure through her fingers. Despite his Old-World elegance, he gave every impression of being a modern-day mobster. No one on the bus would dare defy that impressive figure of sheer power. She huddled down, making herself into a small ball, even though her traitorous heart was rejoicing and her treacherous body instantly went up in flames at the sight of him. He was so incredibly sexy. Tempest wished she didn't think so, but there it was.
The burning black eyes settled unerringly on her face. "We can do this either of two ways, honey. You can come out, quietly, on your own two feet, or I can throw you, kicking and screaming, over my shoulder and carry you out." His voice was low, a purr of menace, a blend of iron and black velvet. Sorcery. Dark persuasion.
Every head in the bus swung toward her. All eyes were on her, all ears waiting for her answer. Tempest sat for a moment in silence before moving. She wanted to pretend she might resist him, but the truth was, she wanted to be with him. She was only gathering her strength.
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, just to show him he was annoying her, she made her way down the narrow aisle to the front of the bus, trying not to wince with ever step as the cuts on the soles of her feet burned.
As Tempest neared the bus driver, the man stirred She looked very small and fragile to him, her clothe torn and smeared with blood, "Are you sure you'll be all right, miss?" He carefully avoided looking at the man towering over her.
The black eyes suddenly left Tempest's face and bored into the driver. Ice cold, graveyard eyes. Tempest pushed at Darius's broad chest, backing him up, away from the driver. "I'll be fine," she assured the man. "Thanks for asking."
Darius dragged her beneath the protection of his shoulder, his arm circling her slender waist. She looked as if she would fall down if he allowed her to stand or her own for too long.
The driver watched them descend the two steps. Behind them the doors snapped closed. Sheets of rain slammed down from the sky, obscuring his vision. Blinking hard, he peered out the windshield, but he couldn't see anyone. The mysterious gangster and the woman were gone as if they had never been. There wasn't so much as a car around.
Without a word, Darius scooped Tempest into his arms and covered the distance to his waiting family using his preternatural speed, blurring their images as he did so. Tempest lay against the solid wall of his chest, cradled in his arms, peeking out at the group suddenly crowding close around her.
"Are you all right?" Desari asked gently.
"She is fine," Darius answered before Tempest could speak. "We will join you on the next rising."
"We haven't many more days before our next concert," Dayan reminded. "We will need you there." The black eyes flamed. "Have I ever failed to be where I was needed?" It was a clear reprimand.
Tempest curled her fingers in the lapels of Darius's overcoat. "You're angry with me, Darius, not with them." She whispered the words, forgetting they all had his incredible hearing.
Do not say anything more, Tempest. I am more than angry with you. I am furious.
"That's a big surprise," Tempest muttered resentfully under her breath.
You are not nearly as afraid as you should be right now, Darius rebuked her, his voice soft yet intimidating.
Tempest wasn't impressed by his posturing. Intuitively she knew he would never harm her. She probably really was the safest person on earth. She simply settled closer against him, her arms circling his neck trustingly. He might hold her captive, but she couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. Not of him. Maybe of his possession of her. Of his intentions, perhaps. But not of Darius as a man. He would never hurt her.
Do not be so sure I might not spank you for your childish defiance, he said severely, sounding tough. He swung around and carried her into the dark night.
"I hurt," she announced quietly against his throat.
"You think I do not feel your pain beating at me?" he demanded. "Worsened because I could not help you as I should have?"
"I'm not dead," she pointed out.
He swore eloquently, switching from English to an ancient tongue. "You came close, honey. Brodrick had every intention of killing you. Why do you insist on leaving the areas of safety I provide for you?"
"I told you," she said honestly, "I have trouble with authority figures."
"Get over it," Darius ordered firmly, meaning it this time. She was driving him to the brink of insanity. "Do you have any idea what it is like to wake when I an bound to the earth, feeling your fear, knowing my strength is at its lowest ebb and I am unable to aid you?"
He was striding across a field filled with flower crushed by the barrage of hail. Rain poured over them Above their heads, lightning flashed from cloud to cloud, and thunder roared ominously.
"You came to my aid," she reminded him staunchly.
"I had to use an animal that unintentionally hurt you in the process, though I thank God it was there to use Why do you do these things?"
"It isn't as if I go out and look for things to happen Darius," she objected. "I had no idea Brodrick was any where around." She glanced up at his set features, then touched a fingertip to the hard edge of his perfect mouth in an attempt to soothe him. She was catching a glimpse into his mind, into the red haze of fear and rage.
"This cannot continue, Tempest. It is dangerous, no only for the two of us but for all mortals and immortal: alike. You cannot leave me. What made you do such a foolish thing?"
Was there a note of hurt mixed in with the beautiful if severe tone of his voice? She hadn't wanted to hurt him. "We're too different, Darius. I don't understand your world. I don't even know what you mean by being bound to the earth, and you never explain these matter! to me. I don't know all you are capable of doing whether, say, you can actually kill someone from a distance. All of it is... unnerving, to put it mildly."
Tempest shivered in his arms, drawing his attention to the driving rain. Darius inhaled deeply to center himself and to calm the fury of the storm he had used to regain her. At once the rain slackened to a light drizzle. Overhead the towering cloud began to break apart. The wind rose to help push the mist away.
"You are hurt, Tempest. Instead of waiting for me - and you knew I would come to you the instant I rose - you ran from me." He took a running leap in the air effortlessly, shape-shifting as he did so.
Tempest gasped and clutched at the leathery scales rippling over his body. She closed her eyes against the earth falling away from her, against the wind rushing around her. She felt safe and protected in his arms, as strange as those two appendages now appeared. It was amazing to her that he could do that - shape-shift, fly through the air, and expect her to accept it as an everyday occurrence.
Darius whisked them across the glittering sky, needing the feel of her close to him. He took her over a mountain and back toward high ground near a waterfall. It seemed as if they hovered there alone on top of the world. Below, the mist rose to meet them, vapors from the waterfall rising to encompass them, to surround them in a cloud.
As the huge dragon's clawed feet touched down, Darius was shape-shifting again. One moment Tempest was staring up at a wedge-shaped head bending toward her, recognizing only the familiar hunger burning in its black eyes. Then, as the head moved closer, the dragon became Darius, his perfect mouth hovering inches above hers. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart slammed alarmingly.
"You can't," she breathed against his lips.
"I have to," he countered, meaning it. There was no other choice for him. He had to taste her, hold her possess her totally. His fear had been so great that, on his rising, his mind and body could accept no other than completing the ritual, making her irrevocably his. It no longer mattered to him that it was against his law against everything he believed in. He had to have her have the right to keep her safe at all times.
His lips moved over hers, gently at first, a sweet coaxing that rapidly changed as he fastened his mouth to hers hungrily. Tempest felt flames rushing throughout her body. He had started a fire there was no way to quench. A fire that would consume them both. Yet Tempest didn't care. Her heart might pound with a mixture of fear and excitement, but nothing would change what would be. And she knew it would be. She would belongs to Darius for all time. Once he possessed her, he would never let her go.
"I would never have let you go anyway, honey," he murmured against her throat. "Never." He was carrying her with his usual casual strength up the faint trail leading to the top of the falls.
"Are you planning to throw me over?" she asked, be mused by the intensity in the depths of his eyes, by the fire racing through their bodies.
"If I had any sense, I would," he replied gruffly.
There was a cavern behind the falls, and he carried her right through the mist and moisture to it. The cave was narrow, sloping downward into the mountain itself "Have I mentioned to you that I have a problem with small spaces?" she asked, trying not to put a stranglehold on his neck.
"Have I mentioned to you that I have a problem with anyone who disobeys me?" he countered, stopping in the narrow tunnel to find her mouth once again.
Perhaps he intended the hard kiss as a punishment, or a distraction, but the earth was already moving under their feet, the world tilting and spinning crazily the moment he touched his lips to hers. Hunger was a craving they fed one another. When he lifted his head, his dark eyes were blazing at her. "If I do not have you soon, baby, the world itself will go up in flames."
"It isn't my fault," Tempest absolved herself, touching a finger to her mouth in awe. "It's you. You're lethal, Darius."
He found he could smile then. In spite of the urgent, painful demands of his body and the fear she had put him through, even his anger that she had tried to leave him, she could make him smile. She could melt his heart. Here he was, the leader of his people, an ancient, one with enormous strength and tremendous knowledge, his word law, his commands obeyed without question. She was a small, fragile, human female, and he was putty in her hands.
The tunnel led deep within the bowels of the earth itself. It was warm and moist, the sound of water ever present. It seeped from the sides of the tunnel and trickled from the curved ceiling above their heads. Tempest inspected her surroundings warily, not liking the fact that they were in a volcanic range of mountains and it was decidedly warm. "Have you ever been here before?"
He heard the note of nervousness in her voice. "Of course I have, many times. We spend a great deal of our time below ground. The earth speaks to us of its secret places and shares its healing strength and great beauty with us."
"Did it happen to mention this was a volcano while it was whispering to you?" she asked, her green eyes searching the tunnel frantically for signs of running lava. She could smell sulfur.
"You have a mean mouth on you, woman," Darius observed, taking a fork to the right that led deeper into the mountain.
At once the faint light creeping in from the cave's entrance disappeared, plunging them into complete darkness. "I thought you liked my mouth," Tempest retorted, doing her best not to scream hysterically at being in this dark, sulfurous, underground hole. "In case you haven't noticed, Darius, it feels as if we're entering hell. Since I already have this faint notion that you could be the devil tempting me, this isn't the best choice of hotels." The humidity was thick, nearly choking her, and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. The inky black interior pressed down on her, suffocating her.
"It is your fear choking you," he said softly. "The air is perfectly breathable down here. The mountain is not crushing you. You fear what I will do once we are together." His thumb was feathering lightly over the pulse in her wrist, back and forth, a gentle stroke but eloquent.
Her green eyes were enormous in her pale face. "What will you do, Darius?" Her heart was pounding in the confined space, the rhythm frantic.
He bent his head to hers, his black eyes burning with possession, with intense hunger, with stark desire. "I will put your life and your happiness above my own. You have no need to fear for your life with me." His voice was black velvet, turning her heart over with tenderness.
Tempest tightened her hold around his neck, leaning more closely into him, uncertain whether from need or from fear. She was tying herself to a creature whose powers she had no real knowledge of. What precise code did he live by?
Darius's response was to swing down an even narrower tunnel and emerge at what appeared to be a solid dead end. She knew it was solid because she reached out and touched it with her palm. But Darius waved his hand, and the barrier simply parted. A single strangled sound escaped Tempest's throat. What couldn't he do? How could she tie herself to a creature who wielded so much power?
"It is easy, Tempest," he said softly, reading her mind, her doubts. "Like this, just like this." His mouth took hers again, hard and commanding, tempting and enticing, whirling her out of the dark cavern and into a world of colors and light. He took away her every sane thought until there was only him. Only Darius, with his blazing eyes and his perfect mouth and mesmerizing voice. His hard body and strong arms.
He lifted his head and once more waved a hand. At once hundreds of flames leapt, lighting candles around the huge underground chamber. "In these last centuries, we have all found our own retreats. This is one of mine. The candles are made from nature's most healing elements. The earth here is particularly welcoming to our kind."
Tempest stared around her at the beauty of the chamber. And it was beautiful, a room where the very walls were crafted of nature's art. Pools of water shimmered in the light from the candles. Crystals hung from the ceiling, and diamonds embedded in the walls glittered, reflecting the dancing flames.
Tempest began to struggle for air. Darius was too powerful, able to create and command forces she had no knowledge of. Terror took the place of dark sensuality.
Darius merely tightened his hold and gave her a small, gentle shake. "You still do not see, do you? Try to imagine what life is like with no feeling, Tempest. Nothing but raw, ugly hunger gnawing constantly. Hunger that can never be sated. Only the life in your prey's blood whispering to you of power. No color to brighten your life, everything in black or white or shades of gray. No textures or richness." His long fingers stroked her skin, lingering on the satin softness. "I have taken nothing in this life for myself. You are the light in my world of darkness. Richness when I had nothing. Joy where there was emptiness. I will not give you up because you cannot overcome your fear. Would you have us come together for the first time in a struggle, in violence? Trust me as your heart tells you you must."
In his arms her slight body was trembling uncontrollably. She buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm such a coward, Darius. I don't want to be. Everything is so overwhelming. You are overwhelming. The intensity of your feelings is overwhelming. When I live alone, I know the rules, and I like it that way."
He was carrying her farther into the heart of the chamber toward the shimmering pools. "No, you do not, Tempest. I know your mind; I have traveled in it often. You want me."
"Sex isn't everything, Darius."
He set her gently on a flat, smooth rock near a steaming pool. "You want me, Tempest, and it has little to do with sex."
"You think," she muttered, while fire raced up her leg as he removed her shoes to inspect the soles of her feet. His fingers shackled her ankles, firm, strong, yet inevitably gentle. She felt that curious wrenching in the vicinity of her heart.
Darius was frowning as he examined the lacerations. "You should have taken better care, Tempest." His voice was dark and moody, his black eyes suddenly rising to meet her green ones.
Her tongue found her dry lower lip, and her pulse raced faster. With his hands so gentle on her, his gaze hungry and burning with stark desire, how did she know he was furious? Once the knowledge seeped into her, more pieces of the puzzle began to assemble themselves. The terrible fury of the storm had been his rage, volcanic rage seething just below the surface of what appeared to be perfect tranquility. She glimpsed it when her mind sought his, inadvertently touching without her intention or his consent.
Tempest drew in her breath.
She had done this. Where nothing in his centuries of existence had managed to shake his utter calm, she had. "Darius." She whispered his name in the beauty of the cave, her voice aching with sorrow. "I never meant to hurt you."
At once his hands framed her face. "I know that. I am here now. I can heal these wounds. But do not neglect your health again, baby. I am not altogether certain my heart could take it." His hands dropped to the hem of her cotton top.
At the first brush of his fingers against the bare skin of her stomach, her breath caught in her throat, and her body went still. Darius pulled the shirt over her head with a single fluid motion, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. He barely gave her lacy bra a thought, using a razor-sharp fingernail to dispense with it. His attention was on the puncture wounds on her side, the scrapes on her back.
He swore. She knew that was what he was muttering although she didn't understand the language. And then he bent his head low, his thick mane of midnight-black hair brushing her ribs, sending darts of fire dancing over her skin. At the first touch of his tongue, she closed her eyes, unable to believe the exquisite beauty of the moment. She felt his lapping, velvet soft yet slightly rasping across her damaged skin, a mixture of soothing sensuality.
Even as he took time and great care to see to the wounds on her body, the clothes covering his skin became unbearable, confining his bursting muscles, drenching him in heat and sweat. He shed them easily, as he did everything else, with a single thought to ridding himself of the discomfort. His body moved against hers, hot and aggressive as he bent to his task. His hands caught at her hips, bending her back to get better access to the puncture on her rib.
His hair brushed the underside of her breast, and she jumped as if he had scorched her. At once he lifted his burning gaze to hers. She was swamped with his hunger, his need. It was there in his eyes.
He watched her throat move convulsively as she swallowed a tight knot of fear. Very gently, with infinite tenderness, his hand spanned her throat so that her pulse beat into the warmth of his palm. "Give yourself to me, Tempest," he whispered softly, his voice so beautiful that it entwined itself around her heart. "Tonight, come to me as my true mate. Be with me the way I hunger for it to be. Give me this gift I have lived lifetimes without."
His mouth was only inches from hers, and every cell in her body cried out for her to close that tiny gap. How could she deny him anything when his need was so great? She moved until her lips were against his. "I want whatever you want, Darius." Even as the consent entered her mind, formed the words, breathed them into his being, her heart jumped, wondering what she had committed herself to doing. Did she really trust him so much? Or was his need feeding her own, the urgent hunger beating at him in waves, swamping her as he touched his mind to hers?
His kiss was gentle, tender, a reverent exploration that only added to her great need of him. "I want the water to heal you, honey," he said softly. "I want nothing but pleasure for you this night." His hands found the buttons to her jeans. His gaze held hers as he slowly dragged the material over her hips, taking her white lace panties with them.
Then he lifted her into his arms. "The water is hot, baby, but it will aid in the healing I do." He was holding her over the steaming water. "I think it is time you realized I will not be defied any longer. You are under my protection, Tempest. Every time I sleep, you get into trouble. I will not allow it to continue."
His arrogance set her teeth on edge, but at the moment she was more concerned with just how hot the water really was. He was lowering her feet close to the surface. It smelled like sulfur. Tempest clutched at his bare shoulder, her nails digging into his flesh. "You know, Darius, I have a major aversion to mineral water." His body was powerful and masculine, the heated thickness of him pressed aggressively against her bare skin as he lowered her toward the waiting pool.
"I think you need to trust me more, Tempest." Darius dipped her feet into the water. She gasped at the stingings, her fingers curling around his biceps, holding on to him for safety. The problem was, she had to lift her legs around him to keep from touching the water. Instantly it brought her hot core of femininity, liquid with need, to press fully against his thick, fierce arousal.
Darius groaned aloud, every sane thought, every good intention, flying out of his head. In its place was a need so strong and urgent that he fastened his mouth fiercely to hers. In primitive, stormy, almost violent possession. His mouth fed on hers. He swept her away from the crushing mountain, from the pain of her wounds, and from the steaming water. She could feel his hands sliding possessively over her skin, slow and deliberate, as if he were committing every curve and hollow to memory. She could feel the soft earth pressing into her as he trapped her beneath him, his body, so large and strong, blanketing hers. His mouth never stopped its series of long, drugging kisses that seemed to steal her will and arouse him beyond all human boundaries of need.
Tempest found her hands clutching his wild mane of hair, hanging on for dear life as the firestorm raged around them, through them. His hands cupped her full breasts, slid along her ribs to her belly, found the triangle of curls below, and caressed her thighs. Everywhere he touched he left flames behind, on her skin, inside her body, until she wanted to scream for relief.
She thought to be afraid of his enormous strength, but that thought, too, was swept away on a tidal wave of passion as his palm pressed into her heat. She made a single sound, a low moan in her throat that ignited the fuse smoldering in him. Darius's mouth left hers for the first time, trailing fire down her neck to the thrusting tip of her breast.
She cried out, arching into him, nearly exploding as his fingers found her tight, hot sheath and his mouth pulled strongly, his teeth scraping and teasing the swell of her breast. His knee nudged hers apart even as his tongue lapped at the valley between her breasts. He was above her, his face harsh yet sensual, his eyes black, burning coals.
It was happening too fast. Way out of control. Tempest felt him, thick and aggressive, pressing into her. He seemed far too large for her to accommodate. Trapped beneath his body, she couldn't move, almost couldn't breathe. His teeth scraped the swell of her left breast, an erotic enticement that set her arching toward his mouth. Yet fear beat at her as he surged forward, his body pinning hers, invading hers, taking possession as if he had every right to her. She felt as if he was invading her soul, thrusting so deeply within her that she would never get him out. Instantly she stiffened, whimpering into his shoulder. She felt his teeth piercing her breast, spreading white-hot heat, sinking possessively into her skin as his body buried itself in hers.
His mind pushed into hers, breaking through every barrier until they were completely one. She felt the heat of her own skin, the exquisite ecstasy of her tight, hot, velvet sheath gripping him, releasing, sliding over him, her blood, hot with life and light, flowing into him, the joy and searing flames, his insatiable hunger and terrible need. She saw the erotic images in his head, the things he would do to her, the things he wanted her to do to him. She saw his iron will, his implacable resolve, his ruthlessness, his merciless, predatory nature. He saw her fears, her modesty, her blind faith in him, her need to run away. He felt the slight discomfort of her body at his thickness and instantly changed his position to accommodate her. He fed her own passion with his, building the fire between them until it raged out of control.
Darius was everywhere she was. In her body, in her mind, in her heart and soul. They shared the same blood. And, God help her, she could deny him nothing. Not when he was rising above her, surging hotly into her, his body slick with sweat, his mouth in a frenzy of hunger and need. It was the most erotic thing she had ever encountered. Tempest didn't care if she ever returned to herself. She was flying, soaring, sating his terrible hunger for the first time in all his centuries of living.
The sense of power that gave her was incredible. She was in his mind, knew she was giving him sweet agony, molten fire. Knew it raged in him as it did in her. She surrendered to him completely, holding nothing back, her fingernails in his back, her soft cries, pleas for more, in his ear. She wanted this with him, wanted to give him this exquisite torment.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she cradled his head, her body moving with his, faster and harder until she was rippling with pleasure, exploding, fragmenting until he caught her safely in his arms. He lapped his tongue over the pinpricks in her skin, closing the tiny wound his fangs had left. His body clenched and raged for release, burning with a terrible need only she could fill. He was in her mind, and he took control, commanding her to do as he bid, not allowing her to think or know what he was asking.
At the first touch of her mouth on his chest, his body shuddered with the effort for self-control. It had to be. She had to complete the ritual, deliver herself into his keeping for all time. Her tongue tasted his skin, the touch so erotic, his hands pinned her hips that he might bury himself ever deeper, even harder than before. Her teeth teased, scraped, and he heard his own hoarse cry. A thousand years of need. This one time had to be his.
Darius lengthened a fingernail to slash his chest, then caught the back of her head and pressed her to him. Her mouth moved as he had commanded; her hot sheath, slick and velvet soft, tightened in demand, squeezing and kneading until his body clenched and thrust helplessly, mindlessly, aggressively into hers, spilling his seed deep within her, claiming her for all time.
He spoke the ritual words. He needed to say them aloud. Needed to seal her to him, make them one. His need to chant the words was as urgent as the taking of her body had been. It was every bit as primitive and instinctive as the hunger to take her life force into his body and give her his in exchange. "I claim you as my lifemate. I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give to you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life, happiness, and welfare will be cherished and placed above my own for all time. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care." He murmured the words above her head as he cradled her to him, as his powerful, ancient blood flowed into her body, as his seed exploded into her. The power of the ancient words surrounded her, seeped into her to seal her soul, her mind, and her heart to his, to bind her to him irrevocably.