Dark Tarot (Dark Carpathians)
The moment his mouth settled over her entrance and his tongue stabbed deep, her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling on his scalp, and she threw back her head with a sensual groan. Her hips rocked into him. He pulled her closer and began to devour her, hearing his own primitive growls. It was as if he’d forgotten the taste of her, that forbidden aphrodisiac that had been created just for him. The more he consumed, the more he needed. The more he took, the hotter the flames inside his body burned for her.
He shaped her left hip with one hand and then brought his fingers to her clit, circling while he drank. He flicked hard, and her entire body shuddered. He licked his way to that hard, straining bud and then settled his mouth over it, switching to use his fingers, burying them inside her. He suckled and then used the edge of his teeth while his fingers plunged deep. Her body clenched hard and rippled with powerful waves while she cried out, nearly sobbing his name.
Sandu took her to the floor, that thick carpet of fur, his much heavier body blanketing hers. His mouth was once again on hers—long, fiery kisses, fiercely possessive. He went from tender to a storm of intensity in a matter of seconds. He turned primitive, almost violent, his hands moving over her, stroking and arousing, his knee pushing her legs apart even as his body held hers trapped there on the unforgiving floor.
Adalasia had never thought to have a wild, out-of-control sexual encounter, one that would take her far beyond her imagination, even push her from her comfort zone, but Sandu was doing just that with his raging storm of fire. His mouth devoured her. Flames poured over and into her. She couldn’t catch her breath, but it didn’t matter. He had thrust into her mind, invading deep, sharing his mind at the same time.
She felt his urgent desire, a lust building, entwining with intense love. She felt his heightened awareness, the fiery nerve endings sending him deeper into an aggressive, hotter passion. She fisted his hair and hung on as the firestorm raged out of control between them, growing stronger with every fierce kiss and stroke of his hands on her body.
Then his hands were moving again, cupping her breasts, fingers flicking her nipples until she sobbed with need, her mouth open as he bit at her neck and shoulder. His hands found their way along her ribs and then her belly to finally, finally, press against the heat of her entrance. She should have been terrified at the strength in his body, in his arms and chest, those hands moving on her. She couldn’t move the way he had her pinned, but all that mattered to her was the state of arousal building and coiling, so much pressure, until she thought she might go insane if he didn’t fill her.
“Sandu, please.” She meant to whisper it, but it came out more of a moan. A mewl. Maybe even a sob, but he saw the erotic plea in her mind.
That fuse, already smoldering in him, ignited instantly. His mouth left hers, his eyes wild. Red flames leapt and burned with fierce abandonment against the black backdrop in his eyes as he stared down at her so possessively. His features appeared harsh, cruel even, sensual lines cut deep. His cock was thick, aggressive, the wide crown pressed against her entrance scorching hot. She couldn’t stop her hips from moving, trying to impale herself, but his hands were there, holding her still while he looked down at her, that leaping fire moving over her face.
Adalasia felt his claiming. He had never looked or felt more serious. His gaze holding hers captive, he thrust forward, driving through her tight folds, invading her feminine channel, which seemed far too narrow even though she was slick and welcoming. She felt every hot vein, his girth and length, the pulsing heartbeat and rush of blood. Her walls clamped around him to add to the fiery friction.
His mind was firmly entrenched in her mind. She felt pleasure ripping through his body, a series of violent lightning strikes that sent hot blood pounding through his veins and centering in his cock. She could feel the white-hot heat pushing at the walls of her sheath, her body answering by gripping him tighter. There was an exquisite ecstasy she didn’t know if he felt or she did or if they shared it as he surged in and out of her scorching-hot channel. The friction just seemed to increase, and she found herself lifting her hips to meet his, frantic to take him deeper.
The floor had no give in it, so he could leverage his body above hers, using one arm, and pound into her, driving forward so hard it inched her backward over the fur. She didn’t care, barely noticed, not with the searing flames consuming her. His insatiable hunger matched her own glorious agony of fire. They were burning up together.