“A relationship is about trust, Gabrielle,” he said softly, his lips moving against the pads of her fingers. He curled his tongue around one and sucked it into the heat of his mouth. He began to glide gently in and out of her. “We will start small. One thing at a time. Let me inside you a bit at a time so you understand I am not taking you over. You take pieces of me when you want or need them. When you feel you can process them without panicking. Do you think you can do that?”
She moistened her lips, her gaze clinging to him. Already her body moved to ride his, her hips rising and falling with the rhythm he set. He could see the beauty of her pleasure already pushing the fear from her eyes.
He caught her hair in both hands, fists tightening. “Taste me, kislány, remember how good it was. Your hunger is beating at me, and I want this for you. This small step. I do not want to take the triumph from you. Take what belongs to you, Gabrielle.”
She swallowed, ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, and he knew she felt her teeth slide into place. His voice was a sinful temptation—he’d made certain of that—but there was no compulsion. He wanted her to see that she could do this. Be Carpathian. Open the earth. Feed herself. Be a woman who could be self-sufficient. She wouldn’t need anyone—not even him—to do those things for her. She needed to feel powerful in her own right. He wanted that for her, and this small thing—a huge obstacle to her—would start her on that path.
You can do this, kislány, I know you can. Kiss your way down to my chest. Ride me while you taste my skin. While you feel my heart beat. While you hear my blood calling to yours.
She looked at him for a long time, her eyes searching his. Her legs drew up on either side of his body so she straddled him completely. Holding his gaze, she nodded slowly, still moving her hips. Riding him. Slowly. Leisurely. Scorching hot.
His hands went to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh while she leaned down and kissed his mouth, just a brush of her lips over his. She kissed his chin. His throat. His cock nearly burst. Suddenly the leisurely ride wasn’t enough. Still, he needed to give her this. He wanted it for her. If he took control, she wouldn’t feel her own power and that was essential.
Her mouth moved down his chest. He felt her tongue and a groan escaped. She needed to hurry. He simply needed. His breath came in ragged gasps and already he was changing the rhythm, rocking her body with each jolting stroke, his hands lifting her and pulling her down hard as he surged up to bury himself in her hot, silken depths.
He felt the scrape of her teeth. Her tongue swirled and then she did it. Her teeth, without his help, bit deep. Found his vein. Hooked in. Connected them intimately. The erotic pain gave way instantly to pleasure. Such pleasure. His woman. His lifemate, feeding on her own. Taking what was hers. Taking her lifemate’s blood for the first time without assistance.
He had that from her. He alone had her body. He was the first. He was the first she took blood from all on her own. He gave her that gift of power. Her mouth moved. His hips took her over and over. When she drank her fill and stroked her tongue over the pinpricks, he caught her up and rolled her, taking her hard. Taking her the way he needed. The way she needed. They both went over the edge together, his face buried in her throat.
So proud of you, kislány. You took control and you did it. Aleksei lifted his head when he could breathe properly and kissed her thoroughly. I have to help Fane feed the others. We may have to leave to keep from growing too weak and find blood in the village. Do not enter any of the buildings while I am gone. You can walk around the grounds and you will be safe enough. Do you understand?
He waited for her to nod her head and then he kissed her again before he left her. She rolled over and drew her knees to her chest, curling into the fetal position. He didn’t like it, but he could feel the combined hunger of the ancients rising and knew he didn’t dare delay ensuring they had their fill of blood.
11
Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod. She’d just had sex with a gorgeous man. A total stranger. On the ground. On her sleeping bag. She was a grandmother for heaven’s sake. No. She was a great-grandmother. Worse. She hadn’t had sex since she was fifteen years old so she was practically a virgin, and she’d acted like a whacked-out slut.
Trixie stared up at the handsome, gorgeous face and thought about turning the stake gun on herself. She’d lost her freaking mind. Totally. What was she going to tell her granddaughters? Absolutely nothing. Nada. Nothing at all. “We are going to our graves with this,” she hissed at his smirking, all-too-satisfied face. “I mean it. To. Our. Graves.”