Dark Promises (Dark #29) (13 page)

She had no idea what
kessa ku toro
meant, but she didn't think it was a curse word. Not like the one he spat out earlier.

“I didn't mean . . .” She trailed off, watching his gaze drop to where his body met hers. He looked so huge, intimidating. Still, it was sexy. Seeing him stretching her like that, his finger moving over her lips where they wrapped around him so tightly.

“You said it.” He was implacable, his voice going from harsh to guttural.

She knew he was at the edge of his control. She knew when he took her he would be just as savage, just as rough as when he kissed her. His fingers slipped through the slick heat at her entrance, the slick liquid fire that coated his cock, her thighs and gleamed on his jaw. His other hand went to her left breast, gripping her nipple and tugging roughly. Fire shot straight to her sex. Blood rushed hotly through her veins. Her sheath spasmed around him, sent more liquid bathing the thick, broad head buried in her.

His eyes were hooded, heavy-lidded, his teeth bared as he waited for her to obey him. It cost him, that wait, and she knew one word would shred the last of his control. Not movement. Her surrender. That's what he wanted from her. Total surrender.

She had nothing left. Nowhere else to go. No one else to turn to. There was only this man, the ancient she'd wronged. An ancient who was more feral than tame. An ancient who was not in the least civilized. There was only Aleksei and the things he was doing to her body.

“Don't stop, Aleksei,” she whispered, because she needed him desperately.

His eyes changed. Dark. Dangerous. Breathtaking. Staring into her eyes, he took her, slamming his cock home, tearing past her thin shield to bury himself to the very hilt. He seemed to lodge in her womb. His heavy sac pressed tight against her buttocks. Pain warred with pleasure as her body struggled to accommodate his size, her tight muscles stretched beyond belief. It was too much. The pleasure rushed over her, catching her by surprise until she didn't know what was pain and what was paradise.

She lifted her hands to push him away, her body flinching from his, but he caught both wrists in his viselike grip and slammed them to the carpet on either side of her head, his eyes glittering in warning.

“Do not take back your word,” he hissed. “Fighting me now is far too dangerous.”

She didn't have time to tell him that wasn't her intention. She just needed a little breathing room. A little time for her body to assimilate the streaks of lightning, the fire gathering like a terrible storm. The pressure building too fast. Too hot. His mouth came down on hers, a wild, savage kiss that took what was left of her sanity. Then he was plunging deep, setting a harsh, ferocious pace that jolted her body with every stroke, sending streaks of fire straight to her core.

She gasped and caught at him for an anchor, the pleasure so intense she feared she might actually pass out. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't find a release. He just never stopped, pushing her higher and higher until she was certain she couldn't take it. She was being pulled somewhere else. It was terrible. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.

“Stop fighting me,” he hissed, going to his knees. “
Kessake
, you like this. You want it. I can feel your need, your hunger. Your fighting only makes me lose all control. Relax for me.” He growled the words, but she could tell he was trying to settle her. There was an underlying plea in his command. “Let me help you.”

She hadn't realized her body was thrashing under his or that her fingernails were digging into his skin. She could see the scored rake marks on his chest and knew they had to be on his back as well. She was just as out of control as her own body.

“O jelä peje terád, emni.”
He bit the curse out between his teeth. “Sun scorch you, woman, stop fighting me.” He swore again savagely, in English this time, his hold transferring to her inner thighs.

He held her thighs with a bruising grip, his cock relentless, never stopping, slamming deep and hard with every stroke, burying himself over and over, his face a mask of pure lust, robbing her of all breath. She felt him everywhere. Surrounding her. Taking her over. His body a piston, a jackhammer, driving deep, sending the fire, the flames, through her entire body.

Her tight sheath pulsed and spasmed. Her inner muscles gripped his thick spike viciously, clamping down like a vise, holding him, increasing the friction as he drove into her. Then it was there, exploding through her, tearing through her body, roaring with a life of its own.

She chanted his name. Giving him that. He'd given her the stars. She tried to take him with her, but his green eyes were trained on her face and
he plunged into her again and again, watching her as her body fragmented, died and was reborn.

“That is what I want,” he breathed. “Beautiful.
I
gave that to you. Your lifemate. Aleksei. I gave that to you.”

His cock continued to drive deep into her body, on the heels of the first violent orgasm and another, taking her over, ripping through her, tearing a low, wild keening from her that she couldn't stop. She swore her vision darkened as the firestorm rushed through her, consuming every cell in her body.

A
leksei needed to see the look on her face as he gave her that gift, that beauty. He knew he was far too rough. Too wild. But his lifemate was made for him. The other half of his soul, and even though she didn't know it—didn't recognize it—she was a wildcat and was a true match for his savage nature.

He didn't want to stop. It was pure heaven being buried deep in her body. Streaks of lightning forked through his body, drawing up from his toes to sizzle through his body straight to his brain. Around his cock her body spasmed and convulsed, bathing him in hot, rich honey. The intense strangling sensation added to the friction, as if a hot, wet silken fist gripped and milked him.

A third orgasm ripped through her and he felt his cock swell. Glorious. Impossible. Perfection. Her tight sheath pulsed around him, clamped down and pulsed again. Pulse after pulse. That rich honey scorched and burned and felt so good as with each spasm she poured more around his swollen, hard,
aching
flesh.

He stared down into her shocked eyes. She looked dazed. Her lips were swollen, her hair everywhere. She looked thoroughly taken. Claimed. His. He emptied himself into her, blasting his seed deep inside her.

Fighting for breath, he allowed himself to collapse over her, forcing her to take his weight while he buried his face in her neck. Her heart beat in that pulse point right by his ear. He could hear the frantic rhythm. Feel her fighting for air. He turned his head and sank his teeth deep.

She cried out, arched her neck, her arms coming up to cradle his head even as a rush of hot liquid enveloped his cock. He held her down, letting her breathe shallowly as he blanketed her, his body connected to hers. Still hard. Still a thick spike that refused to relax while he took her blood. While he sated himself on her.

He began to glide. Slow. Easy. His hands slid to her breasts, kneading. Massaging. Taking possession of her nipples, rough. Gentle. Never setting a pattern. Each tug or roll rewarded him with a surge of liquid heat. Her hands were in his hair, and he loved the feel of her fingers there, moving through the strands. He loved the way she cradled him as he fed.

With a languid laziness, he swept his tongue over the twin pinpricks and then set his mouth there, marking her further. She would have his mark all over her body. Everywhere. And she would feel him everywhere. On her skin. Under her skin. In her blood. In her bones. Deep inside her most feminine core. He would be there with every breath she drew. Every step she took. Every move she made. He would be inside of her.

He lifted his head slowly, continuing to move in her. She still wore a dazed look, as if she couldn't quite believe what happened. He felt alive. Exhilarated. Complete. He should have been sated, but he knew that if that were ever the case, it would be short-lived and very temporary with her close to him. He wanted to live inside her.

“I wasn't fighting you,” she whispered, almost shyly. “I'm sorry I made you think that I was.”

Her hips moved gently, rising to meet him. She was every bit as insatiable as he was. His match. He took his weight from her, planting a hand on either side of her so he could continue gliding in and out of her hot, welcoming haven.

“It was too much. Too fast. I couldn't process what was happening to my body.”

“Did I hurt you?” He bent his head to the temptation of her breast,
capturing a nipple and drawing it into the heat of his mouth. His teeth tugged and his tongue laved before he let his prize go.

She gasped, and there was his instant reward, all that hot, slick honey bathing his cock while her body clamped down around his. Yes. She was definitely his lifemate. She liked it rough. She came apart for rough. He wasn't civilized and he doubted he ever would be. He'd been too long living on the brink of darkness, part animal, part savage and part demon. He was never going to be tame.

Gabrielle shook her head. “It was intense and it scared me.”

He didn't let her gaze slide away from his. Waiting.

She bit her lip. “Sometimes it bordered on pain, but then . . .” She trailed off, a soft rose creeping into her face.

“You liked it,” he encouraged. “
Kessake
, in this, in all things, you have to be honest with me. We are going to spend eternity together. There is going to be a lot of this.” He took a moment to savor the feeling of her body surrounding his while he moved inside of her. “I need to know what pleases you. You need to know what pleases me.”

“I don't understand this. Any of this.” Tears suddenly swam in her eyes.

“Kessake.”
He whispered it. His name for her. Little cat. She'd scratched the hell out of him with her nails. Marking him. Scoring his chest and back. Loving what he was doing to her. Now she had tears in her eyes.

Her hands tightened around him and she circled his hips with her legs, hooking her ankles, wrapping herself around him. He knew she was unconsciously seeking assurance from him. He slid one arm around her back, half lifting her. Holding her to him. “Talk to me,” he ordered softly.

Her body trembled. He picked up his pace, moving deeper into her. Filling her. He was talking to her with his body. Trying to tell her she was safe. They both were. They had completed the bond and there was no danger that he would lose his soul to darkness.

“Gabrielle.”

“What does
kessake
mean?”

Her breath had turned ragged. Her eyes stayed on his and he liked the look there. He had put that there. Soft. Dazed. The tears still close, but he held them at bay with the easy, loving glide of his body. He gave that to her
because she needed care. He'd been rough. He could see the evidence of his hands and mouth on her silky skin. He could see a trickle of blood mixed with his seed on her thighs. She needed gentle.

“It means little cat.” He could see the tension coiling in her right there in her eyes. He heard it in her breathing.

“You call me little cat?”

He didn't want to talk anymore. He wanted to concentrate on feeling. Pure feeling. “Hold tight,” he ordered abruptly.

Gabrielle obediently tightened her arms and legs around him. He liked that she kept to her word and obeyed when he told her to do something. It was necessary that she learn obedience right away. He wouldn't tolerate his woman looking at other men, and clearly she had something wrong with her that she had allowed herself to become involved with another Carpathian male. He would keep her away from other men until she learned her place was at his side. In any case, no one had argued with him, not in a thousand years. He was too much the predator and one look at him was enough to convince even the dullest dolt of the fact.

Still, he wanted a woman who would speak her mind. Just not until he was certain she wasn't going to try to run off with another man. She had a fiery temper. That might actually be fun when he was feeling tolerant. After sex. He was feeling pretty damned tolerant right at that moment.

Shifting his hands to the carpet, he began to move in her the way he wanted. Deeper. Finding that sweet spot that took her breath completely and had her making those little noises in her throat he was certain she didn't notice, but he did. He wanted to hear those sounds for the rest of his life. And he wanted it to be a long life with her.

“You are so
peje
hot, so
peje
tight I can barely stand it.” His voice sounded harsh, a groan more than words. He felt the shiver that went through her body. She was very receptive to him. His voice. His touch. His kiss. His cock. He had no idea a lifemate could be such a miracle.

He allowed himself to get lost in her body. Finding the perfect rhythm, building the tension in her so that he felt it coiling tighter and tighter. Switching from hard and deep to slow and easy just when she was close and he could feel her body gathering itself. Her soft cries sounded like music to him.

He loved the way her cries vibrated right through his cock. Her ragged breathing played counterpoint to the little keening and purring that came from her throat with each thrust. He knew this woman was worth having. Worth keeping. No matter that she didn't understand duty, he could teach her that. She was afraid of him. She didn't seem to know anything about lifemates and she wouldn't know that he wouldn't really hurt her. She'd learn loyalty from a strict master.

He kissed her again, this time more gently, taking his time, feeling her response. She followed his lead. She gave him more when he demanded it and she was good, feeding the fire storming through his body. Aleksei knew he was going to enjoy teaching her, training her, instructing her on what a lifemate should be.

He was a little shocked he had any gentleness in him, any tenderness, but he felt both toward her, in spite of the fact that she'd betrayed him with another man. She'd come to him, terrified. He didn't have to be in her mind to feel the terror coming off her in waves, but she had done it, not knowing if he would kill her or not. He had that right. No Carpathian woman should have done what she did. At the very gates. In front of the other ancients. Honorable men who were hanging on by a thread. She could very well have tipped him and all of them right over the edge.

He felt her hands pushing at his chest and his eyes jumped to her face, blazed down at her, took in the stark fear on her face. He realized he had growled and his hands had gone to her body, hard, holding her still while his body took hers roughly. He hadn't realized he was still angry with her. Not just angry, a kind of fury riding him hard. He needed to lose that if he was going to work this out with her—and he needed to work it out before the next rising so she would know what he expected of her.

He eased his glide to slow. To easy. He eased his grip on her hips. “Relax,
kessake
, you are safe. No matter what, I will see to your pleasure.”

Her eyes searched his. She bit her lip. Every
peje
time she did that, he wanted to bite her lower lip himself. His hand found one breast. Her nipple, so hard and inviting, made his mouth water. He slowed his movements to a lazy, torturous glide, making certain his cock rasped over her sensitive little bud while he bent his head to take her other breast into his mouth. Deep. Sucking hard. Using tongue and teeth until she was squirming under him and crying out.

“Aleksei, harder. I need harder.”

She couldn't stop her body from writhing under his. There was intense satisfaction in knowing he gave that to her. He did that for her. Not her other man. Him. She used his name just as he ordered, and she'd asked sweetly. Panting. Showing him need. Putting herself out there.

He drove deep. Hard. Giving her what she wanted. Giving himself that gift. That beauty. He had seen so much in his centuries. He had watched. Listened. Learned. He knew the things he wanted. Things he wanted to do to her. To have her do to him. Still, he didn't expect this. This absolute
peje
beauty.

He felt her body tighten, strangling him in that hot, wet, silken fist, milking and gripping. “Wait,” he bit out. “Wait for me.”

Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging deep. He felt her instant struggle to accommodate him, but her body was close. Very close. Demanding she let go. That she fly. “Not. Without. Me.” He made it a decree. He wanted that. He even needed it.

“Hurry,” she whispered. “Aleksei, please hurry.”

It was her voice, that soft little plea. The sound of his name whispered in a panicky voice that sent him over the edge. He groaned and thrust to the hilt. Deep. So deep while she convulsed around him. He buried his face in her neck, letting her take his weight again. She was so soft. Her breasts were full and felt astonishing against his bare chest. This time, his cock was sated, at least for a short while, relaxing slowly in the haven of her body. He enjoyed the aftershocks shaking her, sending little shudders of pleasure through her body and bathing his cock with her honeyed liquid.

Aleksei knew he would forever crave the taste of her. Forever crave her body. He wasn't about to share that with another man, and she needed to know that right now. He was safe. There was no danger of him turning vampire, but if she thought to save him and then walk away, she needed to know immediately that wouldn't work. They were tied together for eternity. There was no Gabrielle without Aleksei. No Aleksei without Gabrielle.

He moved slowly, pushing himself up on one arm to brush his mouth over hers. He felt her retreating from him, withdrawing into her mind. He wasn't certain he was ready to follow her there. His anger still smoldered
beneath the surface, and she deserved punishment. He didn't quite trust himself to find this man in her mind and see the extent of her betrayal.

He rolled off of her, automatically cleaning himself, although there was great satisfaction in seeing the evidence of his possession on his cock and thighs. He liked seeing it on her.

“We are going to set a few ground rules, Gabrielle,” he said.

She rolled to her side and curled into a little ball, drawing up her knees in the fetal position. He caught the sheen of tears in her eyes before she curled into herself.

For some reason, the sight of tears swimming in her dove gray eyes caused a curious jerk in the region of his heart. He didn't like that. He didn't want to be affected by her emotions. Not yet. Not until he knew what parts of her were real and what was manipulation.

“Did I hurt you?” It was the second time he asked her that question.

She shook her head, keeping her back to him.

“Gabrielle. Do not hide from me. I do not like it.” He didn't. If she was going to cry, she could do it in his arms. He tugged her back into a sitting position. She resisted for just a moment, until his fingers settled around her arms like a vise in warning. “We are going to talk and you are going to do it looking at me.”

She swallowed hard, pushed her hand against her mouth and nodded. It took a moment for her to settle, drawing up her knees, circling them with her arms, holding herself still and closed off even while she lifted her chin, her eyes reluctantly finding his. Her hands trembled. Her hair fell in waves down her back and pooled on the carpet around her buttocks. There it was. Him. Glistening on her thighs. She hadn't cleaned up. She'd left him there. Inside her. On her.