Mine.
That sent another wave of heat rushing through her like a firestorm. Her tight muscles clamped down hard around his finger, trying to draw him deeper. She loved being his. She loved how strong he felt. She loved that he could pin her to a mattress with his powerful body and not squish her. She loved the way he pushed a second finger into her to join the first and her body began that amazing build all over again.
I love the way you taste. So addictive. I will never get my fill. Centuries. And I will never get my fill.
She wanted to be addictive. She wanted it so much she closed her ears to the word centuries. The one he threw around so casually.
His tongue licked at the curve of her breast and then he was kissing his way down her stomach. Her fists found his hair. He was on a mission, leaving a trail of fire behind him. His large hands wrapped around her thighs and parted them. She gasped and tried to come off the mattress. He planted one hand on her belly, his head coming up.
Her heart nearly stopped at the look in his eyes. She'd never seen that particular look and, truthfully, it was a little bit scary. Hot. Predatory. Intense. Possessive. Definitely lust. Something else that made her subside. A demand. He could do that. Make her weak. Modern or not. Especially when he dropped his head and his mouth was on her--there, between her legs--and she came apart a second time.
It happened so fast. So unexpectedly. Sneaking up on her and taking possession of her before she could catch her breath. He didn't stop. His tongue and his teeth and his fingers continued to move in her. Press into her. Stroke that sweet, wonderful spot that sent tremors through her body, sent walls of flame dancing through her and shocks that rocked her over and over.
"Andre." She whispered his name. Moaned it. "It's too much."
Again. More. I need more. Give it to me again. You taste like nectar. So perfect. Give me more, sivamet.
He was driving her up again. Hard. Fast. Relentless. Ruthless even. His mouth was pure sin. His tongue wicked. His fingers clever and demanding. This time the tsunami took her with such strength, spreading up to her breasts and down to her thighs, so strong her body shuddered and she felt tears burning her eyes at the sheer miracle of such sensation.
He lifted his head and was on her again, rolling them so he was on the bottom and she was on the top. He lifted her by the waist, straight up in the air.
"Straddle me, csitri. Legs on either side of my hips. Take me in your hand."
She did what he said, wrapping her fist around the hot thickness of his shaft. He all but slammed her down right over him, impaling her, forcing her to remove her hand, to fight for air while fire streaked through her body and rushed through her veins.
His fingers bit deep into her as he urged her to move, to ride him. He filled her completely, so thick and hard she felt stretched and full. It was exquisite. Beautiful. Perfect.
His hands slid around to her bottom. Slid up her back and began to apply pressure until she was lying against his chest, his body moving in hers. Controlling the rhythm. His hands went to her hair, fingers sliding through the length of it.
"Avio palafertiilam, come into my world with me," he murmured softly. He tugged her head up and leaned up to kiss her.
His kisses were extraordinary. She felt light-headed. Dazed. In love. The movement of his hips, his body moving in hers was delicious.
"Find the rhythm, palafertiilam, find my heart. Hear my pulse? The blood in my veins calls to you. Kiss me."
Teagan kissed him. She found she could kiss much better than she thought she could. She burned. Deep inside. In her mind. She needed. She craved his taste. There, on her tongue, she was addicted to his taste. She had to have more. She kissed her way along his strong jaw, down his throat. She licked at his flat nipple and nipped at his skin with her teeth.
His hand came up between her mouth and his skin. Between that strong, dark pulse beckoning to her. His hand was gone and then was back to shaping her skull, urging her mouth against him once more. She licked at skin and there it was. That delicious, addictive taste. Every cell in her body went wild. Out of control. Her muscles clamped down hard around him, holding him to her as he rocked her body with more force, sending streaks of fire through her.
She lapped at his skin and then clamped her mouth on him, suckling, drawing the hot, spicy masculine taste that was all Andre into her mouth and down her throat. Flames spread from her throat to her every organ. Every cell. She could feel the fire building and building and it wasn't enough.
She heard Andre groan. Sexy. She felt him swell in her, stretching her even more. His hips went wild, surging into her over and over. Faster. Harder. She ground down on him, needing the fire now. Needing his taste. Needing to be complete. Needing. Just plain needing.
Tell me you are mine.
You know I am. And she was. Her beautiful, extraordinary man who could give her three orgasms before he was even inside of her. Who could show her such beauty and make her feel extraordinary as well.
His hand was back, pushing between her mouth and his chest. He was gentle, but adamant, even when she protested. You can have as much as you want later, Teagan. Right now, I want something else.
The way his voice brushed on the insides of her mind was just plain thrilling. His hands bit once more into her waist and she was lifted off of him. She cried out and tried to catch at him, but he rolled her onto her stomach, caught her hips and yanked them up, one hand on the nape of her neck, pressing her face down so that her bottom was high.
He entered her in one swift thrust. She screamed. Loud. The friction was incredible. He was scorching hot. Deeper than he'd ever been. Perfect. Amazing. She wanted more.
"Harder, Andre," she whispered.
She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes to feel every stroke. She gripped the cover in both fists, holding on tight while he slammed into her over and over, jolting her body with each thrust. She could have sworn lightning streaked through her, great white-hot bolts that forked out and spread through her entire body.
Andre went harder. Rougher. Driving into her with such power he rocked the bed beneath her. She felt the building of a tidal wave deep inside. It started in her breasts. Crept up her thighs. Coiled tighter. Centered there in her sex. Her body shuddered. She gripped the cover tighter.
Let go. I feel it. Give me what is mine. So beautiful, Teagan. So beautiful.
His voice was her undoing. The velvet, sensual pitch that caressed her skin and took her right over the edge. Her body seized. Held there. He pounded hard, sending streaks of lightning burning through her. Her feminine channel clamped down. Convulsed. Held him in a strangling grip. Then she was gone, clawing at the bed to stay anchored, her body slamming back into his, as the orgasm went on, seemingly endless.
She felt him swelling, stretching her more. He groaned her name. Teagan. Soft. Velvet. Silky. Perfect. She felt every bit of hot seed pouring into her. That triggered another long orgasm. He stayed in her. She didn't want to move, breathing hard into the mattress.
His hands slid over her back, a soothing caress. Both hands went to her buttocks, massaging, smoothing. Then he was pressed up against her, his front to her back, kissing his way up her spine until he reached the nape of her neck. He pushed her hair aside and kissed her there, too.
She would have collapsed if he hadn't had his arm firmly around her waist. She didn't want to lose him, but she needed to fall forward. Right on her face.
"Are you all right?"
"Mmm." She couldn't form a single word. With his every movement there were more aftershocks. Big ones. Delicious ones.
"Csitri." His hands were gentle as he slipped out of her and turned her into his arms. She found herself on her side, her body tight against his, his arm locked around her waist, one thigh between hers. His hand smoothed over her hair. "Mmm is not a word."
She ran her hand over his arm. "It is now. You're yummy, Andre, so mmm is definitely a word."
He laughed softly. His hand moved up her rib
cage to cup the slight weight of her breast. She shivered when his thumb stroked her nipple. Her womb gave a little spasm and had another delightful aftershock.
"Your breasts are so sensitive."
"Small. I've always wanted to have bigger breasts. I contemplated surgery for a while. Nothing fits right. Clothes, I mean."
"Surgery?"
She turned her face to look at him over her shoulder, wanting to see his reaction. He felt puzzled. "Yes. Surgery. Implants. To be bigger."
"Why?" Now he looked horrified.
"So I'd look like a woman instead of a boy."
His eyes went soft. "Teagan. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I love your breasts." His palm cupped over her, swallowing her. "I love the way you feel in my hands. I especially love how sensitive you are. Never think about such a thing again."
He meant it, too. Teagan could tell. He was shocked and more than horrified. His palm cupped her breast. Held it to him like something precious, as if she were going to disfigure herself and he had to stop her. She found herself relaxing into him. He had no idea how much his reaction meant to her. She had always, for as long as she could remember, equated beauty with her sisters. All of them were simply stunning. All of them had real curves. Lots of curves. More than once they'd walked into a roomful of people together and the room fell silent. Teagan was so proud of them. They weren't only beautiful, but they were nice as well.
She had a Caucasian father--one who had left as soon as he realized his partner was pregnant. Her mother had died giving birth to her. Teagan was ten years younger than her closest sister and looked very different from all of them--short--slight--very little curves--and wild hair that was more silk than hair and impossible to tame. She was a brain, had no real social skills, but her sisters loved her with everything in them.
"Teagan. I would not like such a thing."
She tried not to smile. No matter how sweet Andre was, he often sounded as if he was issuing an order. Nicely. But still, an order.
"Do you remember when I told you I had real problems with authority figures? Bossy ones. Especially men." She thought a reminder might be just the thing. They were starting their relationship, and she might as well lay it on the line for him. "I'm not exactly a pushover, Andre. I have a temper."
"Sivamet."
Just that. The sound of that word coupled with his silky accent sent a little tremor right through her entire body. He'd just made crazy, wild love to her and given her like a million orgasms, but her body forgot that and reacted all over again. Sheesh. She had no idea she was going to turn into a sex machine.
"What does that mean exactly?" The language was so beautiful and had so many meanings, she loved to hear his translations.
He was silent a moment, clearly trying to translate the word into English for her. She could feel his chin nuzzling the top of her head. She even loved that. His body was curved around her protectively and she loved that he cuddled her close. She could get used to that.
"Of my heart. My love. An endearment in my language that means something more. I cannot explain it better than that."
She liked that. She liked being of his heart. "That's nice. It makes me feel special." She bit at her lower lip for a moment. "Um, Andre?"
"Do not hesitate to ask me anything, Teagan. You are my other half."
"I like this. You holding me like this. Would it be too much trouble, before you have to go sleep in the ground, however you do that and please tell me coffins are not involved . . ."
"No coffins."
There was a trace of amusement in his voice. She liked that she put that there. He wasn't a man who laughed or found amusement in many things. She'd been in his mind. She knew that, yet he seemed to be on the verge of laughter a lot around her. She was grateful she could give that to him.
"Since we can't sleep together at night, would you be able to hold me like this until I fall asleep?" She felt a little silly asking, but it was the most amazing feeling. She'd never felt so safe in her life. Andre made her feel as if he'd walk on water for her.
"I sleep during the day, Teagan. You will, too."
"Some of the time," she agreed. "Because, of course, I want to spend most of my time with you, but there are things that can't be done at night."
He sighed and brushed his mouth over her hair. "Csitri, did you not hear me when I said you cannot go anywhere without me?"
She stiffened. "No. I heard you say not to leave this cave and your protection, but we aren't living here." She took a breath. "Are we? Permanently? I mean, we'll have a home. A house. Somewhere my family can come and visit." She was beginning to panic. "I don't know where I got the impression that you wouldn't mind living in the States if it was important to me."
"If something is important to you, Teagan, then we will do it. Mataias, Lojos and Tomas are in the States and I like to keep my eye on them. Knowing I found you will allow them to hold on a little longer. I have been a nomad for centuries, but we can have a home base if that is important to you as well."
She winced. There was that word centuries again. She was beginning to accept that he really was from another race and that he'd lived centuries, but still, it was difficult to process. Nearly immortal he'd said.
"When I grow old and die, what do you do then? You said there would be no other woman. In terms of your time, even if I live long, say, to ninety, that isn't long in your years."
"You will not grow old."
She turned in his arms to look up at his face. "Of course I will. Even you can't stop that, Andre."
She pressed her hand to her stomach. She hadn't eaten anything all night, which should have been her day. The thought of food made her sick, but her stomach was definitely hurting and getting worse by the moment.
"Honey, I think I'm going to get sick. I don't feel so good."
She tried to roll away from him, afraid of getting him sick, but his arm turned to iron. It was coming on fast. Her stomach felt as if she had a thousand razor blades cutting through her insides. Her hair was everywhere, a terrible mess and heavy on her head, pulling at her scalp. Her eyes burned. Her skin went hot. Not just hot, but so hot she began to sweat.
"Seriously, Andre, this isn't good. I'm really sick and I don't want you to get this."
"You are not ill, Teagan," he said.
The gentleness in his voice warned her something was off. He knew something she didn't. He was also very calm about her feeling so awful. She'd come to think of him as protective about everything--even something so mundane as her getting sick.
She licked at her suddenly very dry lips. They were already cracked as if she'd been running a high fever for days. Her stomach cramped and she bent nearly double.
"You can't touch me. Everything feels too heavy and too hot. My hair is driving me crazy." She was beginning to panic. They were far from medical aid. She had to have contracted some foreign bug. A nasty one.
Immediately her hair was back in the braids, not as intricate, but still, off her face, shoulders and back. A cool breeze swirled through the chamber. He sat up, a cool, wet cloth in his hands.
"I'm ill. I need a doctor." She tried to push his hand away. He had to get away from her before she infected him.
"You are going through the transition."
The explanation barely penetrated. Her brain even hurt. Her entire body cramped, every single muscle. She cried out, unable to stand the pain without an outlet. She'd never hurt so bad in her entire life.
"I don't understand."
"Teagan, look at me. Follow my breathing. Get on top of the pain."
"I'm not having a baby," she hissed.
But the pain came in a huge wave, overpowering her. Her body convulsed, her bones threatening to snap under the pressure. The convulsions were so severe she nearly came off the bed. Only Andre's strong arms kept her from rolling to the floor.
"I know. You are going through the transition. The change. From your life to mine. Your body is getting rid of toxins and
reshaping organs. I can take the edge off the pain, but I cannot bear it for you, as much as I would like."
Her breath hissed out of her lungs. "I'm what?" She tried not to shout. Maybe she'd heard him wrong. Especially since he'd delivered the news in such a matter-of-fact voice, like she wasn't convulsing and her bones nearly breaking into pieces. It hurt. It hurt so bad.
She didn't want him looking at her. Witnessing this. She didn't want to look at him, not when he was looking so remote. So removed. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't spare the energy. Another wave was coming. She felt it swell through her insides, cutting her like jagged glass. She tried to relax and breathe, just like Andre had told her, but it was impossible. Her lungs felt cut up, raw, burning with every breath she tried to take.
Her body contorted and bile rose. She knew she was going to get sick and she tried again to roll off the bed, to get away from Andre, to crawl out of her own skin and disappear. Andre caught her in his strong arms and took them both to the floor of the cave, away from their bed. As he wrapped her up in his arms, to keep her body from slamming hard on the floor, the wave receded.
Teagan glanced up at his face. Pure stone. A mask. His eyes glacier blue. Nothing but ice. A muscle ticked in his jaw. His hands were gentle. He murmured soothingly to her in his own language, but his body was rigid, just like his face.
"What's happening to me?" she asked again, needing clarification. "Hurry. It's going to come back."
"It takes three full blood exchanges to bring another into our world. They must have a psychic gift in order for the conversion to be successful."
Her eyes widened. "Are you saying that when this is done, I'm going to be like you? I'll need blood to survive? The blood of others? I'll have to sleep in the ground?"
Already the next wave was on her. This was far worse than the others, and she turned from him, vomiting, over and over, her body rejecting everything in her that was human. Her throat felt raw and bloody. Her skin didn't feel right, and even her scalp hurt. The worst was her midsection. A blowtorch had been added to the jagged glass and razor blades slashing her up.
Andre knelt with her, holding her up, cleaning her mouth with a cool wet cloth. Somehow he managed to pin her thick braids to the top of her head, and get rid of the mess she'd just made. Still, she detested him.