Dark Carousel (Dark #30)(18)

He touched her mind as she slowly drifted down from the high of their union  . She was floating in subspace. Happy. The sensations in her body still occupied her mind . . . along with thoughts of him. Of making him happy. Of being his woman. He loved that she wanted that. He wanted to make her happy. To be her man. To please her.
She had a strange reaction to his language as if just the sound alone resonated with her. He knew she couldn’t understand meanings, but each time he spoke in his language she had complied immediately with everything he’d asked for. He’d bound her to him, and that meant even if she attempted to flee, she wouldn’t get far. She would need him every bit as much as he needed her. He had exchanged blood with her. He could talk to her mind to mind, an intimate connection between just the two of them, far different from the common pathway most Carpathians used.
It would take three blood exchanges to bring her fully into his world, and he was tempted to complete that exchange in one heady night. She tasted like . . . paradise. Her body was paradise. A miracle he hadn’t expected. He had come up with the idea of the nightclubs in order to entice women to come to him, in an effort to find his lifemate, yet he had given up any real hope of finding her. His search had gone on far too long. The temptation to have her immediately by his side for eternity was strong, but he wanted more from her than simple obedience. He wanted her to choose him.
In some way, she already had. He hadn’t fogged her mind completely. Not once. Not even during the blood exchange. When he’d first taken her into his arms, she had gone to him willingly. He’d created a slight haze to make that first exchange easier for her, but he hadn’t taken her will. She had complied without a hint of reluctance. She’d felt the pull between them nearly as strongly as he had.Tariq stroked back the thick mass of hair. It was soft. Glossy. Shiny. Very wavy, like water rippling over rocks in a river. She was beautiful. Her curves were enticing and he couldn’t stop stroking caresses over her body. He had to touch her. Everything about her appealed to him. Her scent. Her shape. The sound of her voice. The way her mind centered on him and stayed there. Her eagerness to please him.
He kissed the shell of her ear. Traced it with the tip of his tongue. In her sleep she shivered and moved closer to him, turning her head slightly to offer him better access.
“Do you need me?” she asked softly, moving her body against his.
His breath caught in his throat. She was exhausted. Most likely sore, feeling his brand deep inside of her, yet she was offering herself to him—if he needed her. He would always need her. Always want her. So generous a woman. His heart jerked in his chest.
“Odamasz engem. Dream of me,” he whispered, his lips on her ear. “Kutnisz engem teval minden ku että jutasz. Take me with you wherever you go.”
She had already set up a craving for her. For her blood. For her body. His cock had developed a mind of its own, already full, thick and ready. Almost painful. He loved the feeling of needing her physically. Of hungering for her blood alone. The sign of a Carpathian, a hunter. As predatory as he was, he no longer was in danger of becoming the undead, forever seeking the rush of the kill. That temptation was gone, replaced by the exclusive hunger for his lifemate.
He listened to her breathe. Soft. Gentle. Like her voice. That melodic voice seemed to sink right into his bones to claim him. He loved her courage. He really loved that they shared a passion for old things. Especially wooden carved carousel horses. They had begun his emergence into the world of humans. Once he had done so, he’d never abandoned them. He liked living among them. He liked many of them and had formed odd, interesting friendships—he could pretend to feel by using the human emotions surrounding him. And then as more time passed, he couldn’t even do that, feel through memories, his own or those of the humans around him. He felt nothing—a void where his heart and soul should have been.
Once more he pressed little kisses from her temple to the corner of her mouth, tracing every detail with the tip of his tongue. Tasting her. Savoring her. She didn’t turn away, but instead lifted her head just a little toward him. An offering. The sensation sweeping through his body shook him. The way his heart jerked in his chest at that small gesture she made shocked him. She’d already taken him over, just that fast. She owned him. Tariq. A Carpathian hunter. She owned him. 
He wanted to go in to see the child. He liked children. He had always been drawn to their innocence and wonder. Lourdes would be his, just as she was Charlotte’s. Already the four children he’d rescued were “his.” He knew they all had psychic gifts, even young Danny, the teenage boy, so brave that he knowingly challenged vampires in an effort to get his sisters to safety. They were his. He hoped Charlotte would come to think of them as hers as well.
He pressed more kisses along her chin and then nibbled. She murmured and ducked her chin down, her mouth moving against his. His belly did a slow roll and his cock jerked hard.
“Tariq.” She murmured his name softly. “Can’t you sleep?” She didn’t open her eyes, but her lips caressed his.
“I’m savoring every moment with you. Committing it to memory. The start of us. The beginning. I do not want to miss one single second with you.”
Her lips, against his, curved into a smile. Her tongue teased along the seam of his. “Silly man. If it’s the beginning of us, then we have a long time ahead to savor. Go to sleep. Morning is coming and Lourdes will wake up and need me. You’ll be too sleepy and worn-out to get up to meet her.”
She is exhausted as well. She will sleep in. He answered her mind to mind. Intimately. His voice caressed the walls of her mind. Stroking. Conveying more than words. She would feel his hunger for her. Hunger in all forms. He wanted that. Wanted to share with her just how much his need of her was. Just how much his passion for her was. The lust rising in him. The craving for her blood. She had to know when she woke up and the fog was gone, he would never move on or abandon her. He wanted to give her that knowledge. I belong to you. I was born just for you.
He took her mouth, one hand cupping her jaw, holding her still for his invasion. He loved the taste of her and could never get enough. He kissed her over and over. So many times, and yet that wasn’t enough. When he lifted his head, she pressed one hand to his chest, pushing him down to the satin sheets while she rose up above him.
He felt the impact of her vividly colored eyes. Her gaze roamed over his face, and he was more than pleased to see it held a hint of possession and more than a little lust.
“You need someone to watch over you, Tariq.”
That simple statement shook him. He watched over everyone. She’d done this before. With Fridrick in the garage. She’d tried to protect him. He couldn’t remember that ever happening. He’d lost most memories of his family. They hadn’t been with him long enough to leave many. Mostly the Carpathian community had raised him. The raising had consisted mainly of training him. His most treasured memory had been watching his father carve wood into beautiful things for his mother. He used his hands, not his mind, to make things. Although he’d been ridiculed by some of his peers, Tariq had chosen to do the same thing.
Charlotte kissed his jaw and then his throat. He wasn’t certain his heart could take the way she moved her body over his. She straddled him, pressing her hot core into his flesh, branding him with scorching heat as she kissed his chest. Her tongue licked over the spot where he’d drawn the line, opening his veins for her.
Do you want more, sielamet? I belong to you. If you hunger, I provide. He couldn’t stop himself; he slid one hand between her lips and his chest, his fingernail lengthening, sharpening, so that he could give her his very essence.
The little beads welled up. Tempting. Enticing her with his scent. She had to feel his hunger—it was there in his mind when he spoke to her. His need of her. His want. He craved her, and he wanted her to sip from him. To take enough for an exchange.She licked at the ruby drops, her eyes on his, and his body reacted. She was the epitome of a beautiful, sensuous creature. She licked again and then deliberately latched onto him with her mouth. Sucking. Trying to draw out more. All the while her gaze stayed on his. He knew the true meaning of sexy just watching her. Her hips moved on him, a slide of heat and fire that threatened his control, but when he caught her hips to settle her over the straining weight of his cock, she refused to allow it. She reprimanded him with her eyes, and he immediately forced his hands to stop, to just curl into her hips and wait to see what she wanted. When she’d taken enough from him for a second exchange, he slipped his hand between her mouth and his chest, closing the laceration as he did so.
She licked over the line several times and then kissed him there. Her mouth settled over his nipple, teeth tugging gently. He felt that fire shoot an arrow straight to his cock. He reached down to settle his fist around the thick spike. His need for her was brutal now, but he refused to take the control away from her. He wanted to see what she would do, what she had in mind.
Her kisses followed the path of each muscle in his abdomen as she slid down his body, right past where he wanted her to settle. Instead, she wedged her body between his legs, her mouth finding his belly button and then nipping at the skin just below it.