“I do. I have nightmares of that night when he stabbed me over and over. I can feel the blade going into me over and over. It hurt so bad. Sometimes I can’t get the sound of it out of my head. But I didn’t have that nightmare. You chased it away.” She kissed his chin. Then his throat.
He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her body, all soft skin and lush curves moving over him. She might not think she knew what she was doing, but she could drive a man out of his mind with the soft whisper of her lips on his body.
He believed her. Her voice had the ring of truth, and he had been looking into her eyes. She meant every word. He had taken away her nightmare. It bothered him that she had nightmares when Carpathians didn’t dream. Shouldn’t dream. She had to be clinging so hard to her human ways that even the blood of the prince hadn’t removed those needs from her. But he would. He would take away those nightmares and replace them with beautiful dreams.
“Keep going,” he advised. “Do not stop there. Your body belongs to me, Gabrielle, but mine belongs to you. You want it, you take it. When I have had enough, I will take over.”
She lifted her head to look at him. She actually licked her lips. “Tell me about your tattoo. On your back and shoulders. I feel it when I . . .” She broke off.
He smiled. “When you turn into my little cat and rake my back with your nails?”
She blushed, the color stealing up her body, turning her skin a beautiful rose. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
“I like it. Just like you like rough, so do I.”
She ducked her head toward his chest, but not before he caught her biting her lip hard. It embarrassed her that she liked rough.
“Gabrielle.” He waited.
There was a short silence. His hand smoothed over her bare bottom. Once. Twice. A silent warning, but he didn’t think she understood.
“Look at me.”
She took a breath. Her breasts pushed against his chest and feeling that silken slide sent a rush of heat straight to his cock. She lifted her head again.
He held her gaze because it was important she understood. He never wanted her to feel ashamed or embarrassed by anything they did together. “You are my lifemate. The other half of my soul. You were created for me. Me for you. You were born to meet my needs. I was born to meet yours. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”
She took a breath and then nodded. “I have to get used to this, that’s all.”
His smile widened. “You have to get used to a lot then. I intend to get very creative and living as many centuries as I have, I have acquired a great deal of knowledge I would like to try out.”
A little shiver went through her body. Heat flared in her eyes. “I think I would like that.”
The shyness in her voice and eyes, so at odds with the daring of her answers, sent more flames rushing through his blood straight to his cock.
“I need your mouth on me.” He gave her the stark, raw truth. “Give me that mouth, kessake, and I will attend your every need.”
“Will you tell me about the tattoo?”
Her mouth moved down his chest, lingering on his hard nipples, her hair brushing over his skin like so much silk. He closed his eyes and let her have his body. One hand found its way to her hair because he couldn’t help himself. He needed to feel it bunched in his hand. He liked giving her this. It was power, but she hadn’t realized that yet. Power over his body. Over him. He felt her mouth nuzzling him. Felt her hunger.
“Not yet,” he denied her. “Wait. Waiting makes it better. Sharper. I want you to claim me the way I claimed you.”
She didn’t hesitate. Her hands moved over his body. He brought both his hands behind his head and looked down at her. She was beautiful. Far more beautiful than he had ever imagined a woman could be.
“When a Carpathian male has killed too often, has seen too much violence, and has lived in darkness, the whisper of temptation to feel, just for a moment, becomes overwhelming. One only needs to kill while feeding. To make that choice. After a thousand years of darkness and no emotion, that temptation, perversely, becomes the only thing left to us.”
She made a soft sound of distress as if she’d never considered how difficult an ancient’s life could be. Her mouth smoothed over his flat belly, her tongue tracing the muscles so defined there in his abdomen. Her hands went to his hips, tracing the bones, the contours. Taking her time. Killing him.
He tried to concentrate. To give her something of himself. “Still, that is not the worst. When more centuries pass, even that is gone. There is only darkness and the demon inside us embracing that darkness. So close. We can no longer afford to hunt the vampire and kill because that kill would send us into a realm we dare not go, not after acquiring the skills and knowledge we have.”