Dark Possession (11 page)

Riordan swore and caught Juliette’s arm when she would have pursued. “That was Manolito and he gave us a clear warning to back off. We have no choice but to do so. She’s his lifemate and we have no business interfering.”

“But…” Juliette trailed off helplessly. “We can’t just leave her.”

“We have no choice, not unless we want to provoke him into a battle. He will take care of her,” Riordan assured. “We cannot do any more here.”

5

M
aryAnn circled Manolito’s neck with her arms and buried her face in his shoulder. The wind whipped viciously at her face and neck, tugged maliciously at her hair and managed to slip under the leather jacket to wrap icy fingers around her skin. If she thought the rain forest was bad, flying in the canopy was a thousand times worse. She felt dizzy and sick, and her stomach did rolling flips. She’d face the million ants and the tree frogs before she’d do this again.

As a child you must have wanted to fly.

She was certain he was reading her mind easily, and she could feel his superior male amusement, reminding her why she didn’t care all that much for men. And since she wasn’t in the least bit psychic or telepathic, she answered out loud, pressing her lips against his throat. “
Never
. Not once. I like my feet firmly on the ground.” But his skin smelled so good. It was hard to not sniff and drag him into her lungs.

Manolito settled them down in a relatively protected area, which she was grateful for because it instantly began to rain. Not a soft drizzle, or even a steady one, but a hard, pounding downpour, as if the heavens simply opened up and dumped an ocean on them.

MaryAnn stepped away from him the moment she had her legs working. Her stomach was still rolling and pitching, and she swore her nose twitched wanting another good sniff, but she refrained and sent him a long scowl. The problem was, he was looking at her. Not just looking. Staring. Her heart did a slow roll and her stomach did the butterfly thing, but with a lot more wing. And her womb clenched and her nipples…

She jerked her jacket tight around her and summoned a glare to go with the scowl. Who looked like that? Honestly. Men didn’t really stand there looking gorgeous and hot in the rain forest. Not just hot. Smoking hot. He was the sexiest thing she’d ever laid eyes on, and he was looking at her like he might devour her in one utterly delicious bite. His eyes smoldered with a dark sensuality, making her forget all about leeches and ants, and making her wholly aware she was a woman. She hadn’t felt that way in so long—if ever—that she was flustered.

“So,” Manolito said, his black eyes burning with such pure sin she nearly melted on the spot. “You came at last.”

Oh, God. Her stomach did another roll right along with her heart, and she tasted sex in her mouth. He dripped with it. “I came to rescue you.” She blurted the words out before she could think. She couldn’t actually think with him staring and her brain short-circuiting, so really, as stupid as the remark might have been, it wasn’t half-bad under the circumstances.

He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that sizzled and dazzled and tightened the spirals in her already curly hair. Maybe he was the Carpathian secret weapon against women, because it was working on her. The man was a menace. Truly. She had to get ahold of herself. She snapped her fingers. “Consider yourself saved and let’s get out of here.” Because wanting to jump him was most likely the effect of the rain forest, all sultry and sweaty. She’d read a lot of Tarzan books in her youth. She was just programmed for sex in the jungle, and the sooner she got out of there, the faster she’d return to normal.

He crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”

Her mouth went dry. “I’m perfectly fine right here, thank you.” With her favorite boots sinking into the muck. She couldn’t move if she’d wanted to. Her heart pounded and fear crept in, not of him, of herself. For herself.

His gaze slid over her, and there was dark possession glittering in the black depths. Not love. Possession. Ownership. Raw sensuality. Her body responded, but her brain screamed a warning. She wasn’t dealing with a human male who lived under the rules of her society. She was alone with a Carpathian who believed he had every right to her. Who knew he could control her mind and persuade her to do his bidding. This man would demand total submission and surrender from his partner. And she was a no-submission, no-surrender kind of woman. How the hell had she gotten herself into such trouble?

“I said come here to me.” His tone didn’t rise, or even harden; rather he pitched the command lower so that his voice felt like the velvet rasp of a tongue sliding over her skin. His black eyes compelled her obedience.

She stepped closer before she could stop herself, and strong arms whipped around her, crushing her body against his. She fit like a glove. He was hard and muscular, and she was all soft curves and aware of every one of them. He whispered something in his own language, something soft and utterly sensual.
Te avio päläfertiilam.
He repeated the words as his tongue swirled against the pulse beating so frantically in her neck. “You are my lifemate.”

It couldn’t be true because she knew one had to be psychic, but right then, in that precise moment, she wanted it to be true. She wanted the feeling of belonging to this man. She had never had such a physical reaction to another being in her life.
Entolam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam.
His lips whispered over her pulse, teeth nipping gently as his tongue stroked another caress. She thought her body might go up in flames. “I claim you as my lifemate.”

She lifted her head, opened her mouth to protest, but his mouth fastened on hers, taking her breath, exchanging it with his. Her legs turned to rubber, and to anchor herself she wound one leg around his thighs while her tongue tangled with his in a long, slow dance of pure erotic pleasure. The feeling burst through her so that her blood pounded and her heart thundered in her ears. She almost missed the soft words brushing along the walls of her mind and embedding there.

Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. Elidamet andam. Pesamet andam. Uskolfertiilamet andam. Sivamet andam. Sielamet andam. Ainamet andam. Sivamet kuuluak kaik etta a ted.
“I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give you my protection. I give you my allegiance. I give you my heart. I give you my soul. I give you my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours.”

The kiss deepened, and she was falling, burning, wrapping herself inside Manolito De La Cruz. She felt her heart and soul reaching for his. Merging. Her breasts ached and grew heavy. She felt the damp eagerness in her deepest feminine core, and her mind blurred even more with the hot passion rising.

Some small, sane part tried to save her, some little untouched portion of her brain raising a red flag, but his mouth was unlike anything she’d ever experienced and she wanted more, his taste addicting. His hand slipped inside her jacket, pushed up the edge of her shirt and closed over her breast so that she gasped and drew his head down to her, wanting him.
Wanting.
No,
needing
.

His lips wandered down her throat as one hand settled into her hair, bunching the thick braid in his fist, anchoring her to him while he explored the satiny soft skin. He found the swell of her breast, the mark he had placed there branding her his.

Ainaak olenszal sivambin.
“Your life will be cherished by me for all time.” The words vibrated through her, so that she pressed closer, pushing against his thigh, easing the terrible aching emptiness, wanting to fill it with him.

She cried out when his mouth settled over her breast, drawing her sensitive nipple into his mouth right through the sheer lace of her gold peekaboo bra. He suckled strongly, his tongue flicking, teeth scraping. All the while she heard his voice murmuring in her head.

Te elidet ainaak pide minan.
“Your life will be placed above my own for all time.”

His tongue danced and laved. He lifted his head, his gaze holding a mesmerizing dark possession. “And your pleasure.” Once more he captured her mouth, stealing her breath, taking her will, lighting a fire in her veins.

His mouth burned a trail of flames from her throat to her breast, his teeth teasing and nipping with tiny little bites, each one sending a rush of hot, welcoming liquid sizzling through her feminine channel. She was weak with wanting him. She nearly whimpered when his mouth found her other breast, pulling strongly, until she could no longer think clearly. She arched into him, wrapping her leg more firmly around him, aligning their bodies so she could press tightly into him.

Te avio päläfertiilam. Ainaak sivamet jutta oleny. Ainaak terad vigyazak.
“You are my lifemate. You are bound to me for all eternity. You are always in my care.”

He lifted his head and once more found the spot where he had marked her. His teeth sank deep. Fire burned, pain flashed through her like a storm, then pleasure so sweet, so erotic, she moved with restless abandon against him, cradling his head, holding him to her while his long, inky hair spilled over her arms and she buried her face in the silky strands. She felt herself slipping further and further from the woman she knew into another realm entirely.

He murmured something else in his language, his voice so sensual, she pushed aside the small warning going off in her head and kept her face buried in the silk of his hair because nothing in her life had ever felt so right. She belonged. She’d found what she’d always been looking for. Content with her life, she had always assumed she would grow old and die with the comfort she’d achieved, but now this was a gift. Passion. Excitement. Belonging. It was all hers.

There was nothing shy about MaryAnn. She had chosen to abstain from sex simply because she would not share her body with a man she didn’t trust, didn’t love, a man she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life with, but at that moment, she knew Manolito De La Cruz was her other half. She would share everything with him, was eager to do so.

His tongue swept across her breast, making her shiver with need. His voice whispered again, and the strangest thing happened. She found herself standing off to the side observing as she ran her hands beneath his shirt and pushed it up his chest, revealing the defined muscles flowing beneath his skin and the shredded rips in his belly where the jaguar had raked him. Her hand slid up over the terrible claw marks, her palm covering them, infusing them with warmth. She saw herself press kisses up his belly and chest to a point just above his heart.

Her tongue found the pulse she was looking for, that steady, strong beat. Her body clenched in anticipation, throbbing and weeping with need. Her hand slid over the spot, and she stared at her fingernail, the one she’d broken earlier. It lengthened into a sharp talon. To her shock, she opened his skin and pressed her mouth willingly to his chest. He groaned and threw back his head, ecstasy mixing with passion. His hand came up to hold her to him, urging her to take more. And she did. There appeared to be no revulsion, no hesitation. Her body writhed against his, a sensuous slide of curves, an invitation for much, much more.

And he took her up on it, his hands rough, intimate, possessive. He yanked at her clothes, wanting bare skin against his. When she rubbed her body along the thick, hard bulge straining his jeans, he shuddered and murmured his approval; he cupped her bottom and half lifted her to align their bodies so that he was pressed against her most intimate spot.

As if she knew exactly what to do, how much she could take of the hot, addicting exchange, she swept her tongue across the wound and lifted her head to look into his mesmerizing eyes. She looked different, her eyes dark and sultry, her lips curved and voluptuous, so sexy she couldn’t believe it was her, so ready to do anything and everything Manolito would ask of her. She wanted to please him, pleasure him, and have him do the same for her.

He smiled down at her and her heart went crazy, reacting every bit as strongly as her body.

Päläfertiil.
“Wife.” He kissed the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth, hovered there, a breath away, looking into her eyes.
Tell me your name that your
koje,
your husband, will be better able to address you.

MaryAnn gasped as the words sunk in. He couldn’t have done worse if he’d thrown a bucket of ice water over her. MaryAnn blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What in the world was she doing wrapped around a man who didn’t even know her name, but professed to be her husband? And what in the world had gotten into her that she let someone mesmerize her to the point of doing things totally against everything she believed in? Manolito made her weak. He’d taken complete control of her, and she’d just gone along with it as if he could rule her life with sex.

Fury burst through her, a fury she’d felt only one other time before, when a man had burst into her home and threatened to kill her. He dragged her out of her bed, punching her viciously before she could defend herself, throwing her to the floor and kicking her. He had leaned down and stabbed her with a knife, and when the blade had gone into her flesh, something wild and ugly and out of control had lifted its head and raged. She’d felt her muscles bunch and knot, and strength had poured into her. At that moment Destiny had arrived, and she’d killed the man, saving MaryAnn’s life and maybe her soul, because whatever had been inside of her frightened her more than her attacker.

MaryAnn was a woman who absolutely abhorred violence and could never condone it, yet now she had an indescribable desire to slap that handsome face as hard as she could. Instead she leapt away, at the same time screaming in her mind. She put every bit of fear and loathing at herself and her own actions into her cry because no one could hear her, and no one would know the terror she lived with trying to contain that slumbering beast dwelling deep within her.

Get away from me.
For one terrible moment she didn’t know if she was yelling at Manolito—or at whatever lived inside of her.