"O jela peje terad, emni. In case, Gabrielle, you do not understand the ancient language," he bit out, his hands fisting in her silken hair, "that means, 'sun scorch you, woman.' Get on with it."
For some insane reason, when she'd been so terrified of him, she didn't seem in the least bit afraid of his outburst. He actually felt her smile as her tongue worked up and down his shaft. "I take it you like this."
"Woman." He made it a threat, and tugged on her hair to force her head exactly where he needed it.
Her mouth engulfed him. Took him into heat and fire. Wrapped him up in a place he knew he would need for all time. She could use her mouth and she did. Instincts kicked in, but it was more than that. She wanted this for him. She gave him this. She did it for him, not for herself. He felt the difference, and he knew it was a gift with no strings.
His lifemate. The woman he had come close to killing. He knew he couldn't have done it, but the thought had been there. Now, she was giving him such beauty, such perfection, taking him to a place he'd never been. His wildcat. He let her set the pace. Let her take him close. So close he skated on the very edge of his control. So close his hips thrust into her mouth. So close he ground himself deep and held himself there for a few moments of absolute bliss.
"Come here."
She didn't stop. She kept working him. He reached down and caught her under her arms, so close to losing control he was afraid he would fill her mouth when he wanted to fill her body.
"I said, come here," he snapped, dragging her up his body.
He rolled her under him, caught her thighs and jerked them apart. He took one moment to lean down and take a taste. Her body bucked. She was delicious. His. All of that was his. He shoved her legs over his shoulders, braced himself on his hands and thrust into her. Hard. Deep. Rough.
She was tight, as if he hadn't already stretched and opened her. He could barely force his cock inside her narrow tunnel. He groaned with the effort. With how good the scorching heat was. How great the friction was. Her little mewling cries and ragged breathing added to the fire engulfing him. He withdrew and her tight muscles grasped and clung, clamped down around him in a stranglehold that felt like heaven.
He looked at her face, the beauty there, all feminine. Soft, perfect skin. Her large eyes, framed with far too long and thick black lashes. Like the silk of her hair. All that hair that he loved feeling against his body.
"This dawn, kessake, I want to lie with you in the earth, your head in my lap. Your hair falling across my hips, my cock and my thighs. I want to wake up feeling that, feeling what is mine surrounding me."
The moment he began speaking, her gaze had jumped to his and clung there. His admitted need fed the fire in her. He knew because he felt the sudden rush of fiery liquid bathing his cock, and saw the hunger in her eyes build all the more.
"You are going to give that to me." He made it a statement, an order, because he could see that she would. She took his breath. His mind. She was taking his heart. Stealing it a little piece at a time. He didn't want that, not with her, not until he knew she would be faithful to him. Loyal to him.
"Don't," she said softly. "Please don't. You said not to bring him here with us and you're doing it."
He realized his hold on her had gone from rough to brutal. His hips had gone savage, driving deep and hard, over and over like a piston. She hadn't fought him or tried to escape; instead, she lifted her hips to meet each thrust, helping him to go even deeper. Her hand touched his face, fingers smoothing the fury from his features.
"Tell me who you belong to," he bit out between his teeth.
She didn't hesitate. "You, Aleksei. I belong to you."
"Who do I belong to?" he demanded, his body jolting hers with every deep stroke.
Her eyes softened. Moved over his face. There was a hint of possession in her soft features. A hint that liked where she belonged even if she didn't know it yet. Again she didn't hesitate. "Me. Aleksei, you belong to me."
His woman was mixed up, but she was willing to be straightened out. He had to let it go. He wasn't the kind of man to let another poaching on his territory go, but it had to be done. He just hadn't figured out how yet. He wanted to kill Gary Daratrazanoff. He wanted to have a few words with the reigning prince about what he should have done and what his mistake had cost all of them. Most of all he wanted to believe the woman he had his cock buried so deeply in. Surrounding him with heaven.
He took her up fast and hard, keeping his eyes on her face, wanting to watch the helpless pleasure on her face as she came apart. He loved that dazed look in her eyes and he kept moving in her, not allowing her to come down, feeding that fire so one orgasm ran into the next and she turned into his little cat. Writhing. Claws raking, her body demanding. Her hips rising to meet his, her need and hunger etched into her beautiful face. He loved that. Loved it.
She gave him her surrender three times, and he watched each time. Feeling it. Satisfaction. Knowing he gave that to her. Knowing the addiction was every bit as strong in her as it was in him. The fourth time he took her up he went with her, allowing the tidal wave consuming her to sweep him along with her. He took her mouth, groaning down her throat, pouring himself into her, feeding his own hunger.
Take my blood. Feed from me. He needed her mouth on him. More, he wanted her to know she could do that without aid. The hunger was in her. He felt it beating at him. She needed. He provided.
She didn't move. Aleksei lifted his head and looked down at her, his body still hard in hers. Still feeling every afterquake. Every ripple.
Her gaze moved over his face, assessing his mood. "I can't." She whispered the denial. "I'm sorry. I can't."
He kissed her. Hard. Wet. Demanding. He kept kissing her until she melted into him again. Until her body clamped down on his and she was kissing him back. He kissed his way down her chin to her throat.
Remember how I tasted? Taste me now, Gabrielle. He whispered the temptation in her ear, sent it into her mind. Into her body.
Gabrielle closed her eyes against the power in Aleksei's voice. Her body clenched hard around his. He was sin. Pure sin. She could taste him in her mouth.
I belong to you. That taste, kessake, that is all yours. Just yours.
For the first time, she felt the slide of teeth, the sharpness there. She cried out, closing her eyes, shaking her head.
There is no need to be afraid. Give this to me, Gabrielle. I need this from you.
She could hear her heart pounding. She wanted to give him anything he wanted. She didn't have any other way of pleasing him. Of giving back to him what she'd taken away, but if she did this . . . If she gave this to him she would be giving more of her humanity away. Piece by piece they were taking her until she didn't know who she was anymore. Tears burned behind her eyes. She was so lost. Fear choked her. She needed to scream. To run. To fight. For self-preservation.
"Stop."
The one word spoken aloud shocked her. His voice was a whip of an order and she realized she was fighting him. She was choking on her own screams. The tears did fall even though she was so certain she had controlled them. Her hands were pinned to the carpet on either side of her head. His body was on hers, covering her, allowing her to feel his full weight and his immense strength. His cock was still buried deep and she felt him like a steel spike, growing even thicker and longer, the dominant in him responding to the fight.
"I'm sorry."
"Talk to me. Right now, Gabrielle. Give me truth."
Ohgodohgodohgod. She had sworn she would tell him the truth. She had sworn it. To him. To herself. How could she possibly put this into words he'd understand? She licked her lips. Swallowed hard.
"Give me your eyes and give me the truth." It was a demand.
"Aleksei." She whispered his name, a plea, needing to touch him. Needing an anchor. He held her hands down and his face was implacable. His eyes burned into her. Seeing her. Seeing the mess that was her.
"Give me you."
She shook
her head. "You don't understand. There is no more me. I'm so lost I don't know who or what I am anymore. I woke and I was buried in the ground. Like death. You said Carpathians don't dream, but I do. I have that horrible nightmare over and over and I can't get out of it. Humans don't take blood. They don't crave it or need it and yet I do. But if I do this for you, on my own, without your help, there is another piece of me gone and there are already so many pieces gone, I can't find me."
She felt the tears on her face. She hated admitting how truly screwed up she was to him, but then again, he had the right to know. He knew he wasn't getting a bargain with her. He knew she had forced him so close to becoming the very thing he'd hunted for centuries. She could barely look at him; her gaze kept sliding away because she was ashamed. She was humiliated. Embarrassed. She wanted him but she didn't. She loved his body, but she didn't know how to give him anything more than sex, and he deserved so much more.
"Keep your eyes on mine."
"I'm trying." She gave him that.
"Kislany." He released her hands and rolled so that she was on top, sprawled over him, still connected. He brushed at her tears very gently with his thumb. The movement forced his cock deeper into her and she felt her sheath spasm around him.
Her heart turned over at the gentleness from him. At the sound of his voice. That wasn't his little cat endearment. She knew it was more like the human form of baby. Or little girl. Whatever it was, it caught at her heart.
"No matter how lost you are, I will find you. No matter how many pieces are scattered or lost, I will find them for you and give them back to you one at a time. I am your lifemate. You are safe now, Gabrielle. You will always be safe with me."
She shook her head. "How can you find me when I don't even know who I am?"
"It does not matter, little one. I have you. You can shatter into a million pieces. You can feel torn apart and lost. I will hold you safe. You cannot go anywhere that I cannot find you. Let go, Gabrielle. Let go of what you cling to. Your body trusts me or you would not be able to fly so high. You ignite for me. When I touch you. When I kiss you. When I take you so hard, so rough, you still trust me. Let go. Give all of you to me, not just your body. I will keep you safe."
"I don't know if I can, Aleksei," she whispered, more tears spilling over. "I want to give you everything. I do. I'm not being stubborn. I'm so terrified. I have been my entire life."
"Tell me the earliest memory of being afraid."
His voice was too gentle for her to stand. Her heart melted. She didn't want that. She didn't want a connection other than sex. He was too . . . everything. He was too dominant. Too scary. Too capable of losing his temper.
She moistened her lips. Her mother had a terrible temper and she threw tantrums. "I was very young." She tried to pull up the memory. When had it first started? She had never thought to go back and figure that out. "My mother was very over the top emotionally. She would fly into a rage, kicking, hitting, throwing things, and then five minutes later be laughing and kissing us."
That was so true. She never knew what mood her mother was going to be in. "Her tantrums never bothered my brother or sister or my father." She fell silent.
"But they upset you, and that made you feel as if you were wrong to feel afraid."
She nodded slowly. "When I was really little she got mad at me for breaking one of her favorite vases. I didn't mean to. I was running and I bumped it and one of the pieces cut me. It hurt and I started crying. She was furious and she started throwing things. Breaking them all around me. Glass rained down. I couldn't move. I was so afraid, and I got cut on my arms and my legs and feet. She suddenly snatched me up and ran into the bathroom with me and then my dad was there. I didn't tell him what she did, because he would have smiled, shrugged and said, 'That's your mother, the drama queen.'"
"O kod belso," Aleksei swore. "Your father does not want to meet me. What kind of man allows his woman to behave in such a way? It is no wonder you are afraid of becoming what you are."
"And you," she whispered. "You have no problems expressing your anger."
He stroked his hand over her hair. "Do you think that I would ever harm you? We are fully bonded. I am beyond the temptation of darkness."
"You're very scary, Aleksei. And you have a temper." That seemed a mild way to express the fury that could overtake him.
"That is so," he agreed calmly. "I will definitely get angry over things, and you will learn to be all right with that. What I will not do is throw things at you or our children. If you are punished for something, I will make certain in the end, you are all right with your punishment and with me."
She couldn't help the shiver that went through her body. "Punishment? I'm a grown woman. Men do not punish women anymore. That went out a century or two ago." She was a little wrong with her math, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to have this man think he could treat her like a child.
He lifted his head toward her ear. His tongue stroked and his teeth caught her earlobe and tugged. "But then I am not a modern man. My lifemate does not run wild nor does she run over me. You are my woman and you have given yourself to me. You will live in my world with me. There will be no more mistakes such as betraying me with another man."
Gabrielle winced when he delivered the full body blow. She'd tried to make up for her mistake. She had done everything she knew how to do and even forced herself to do things she had no clue about, just to make this man realize she hadn't betrayed him on purpose. She wasn't that kind of person. She tried to sit up, to pull away from him, but his arms locked her to him, preventing movement.
She turned her face away from him. She had no idea what she was doing there. With him. Clearly she didn't belong there, either. She wasn't human. She wasn't Carpathian. She wasn't even fully in her own family--the one she'd been born into. She didn't fit anywhere. The dawn was looking better and better.
He growled. His hand spanned her throat. "Do. Not. Even. Think. That. Not ever." He bit out each word. Snarled it. His eyes held a kind of fury. "You will fight for our relationship. You gave me your word. Is your word no good? Tell me now. Tell me now and I will end this for both of us."
She knew she should never have tried to give even a part of herself away to him. If she'd just kept it to sex, she could handle it. She loved sex with him. Not her brain, but her body. She couldn't help it. She melted when he touched or kissed her. But this, this other, she didn't have the strength anymore to keep losing bits and pieces of herself.
Aleksei's fingers tightened around Gabrielle's throat. Her pulse beat into his palm. "Look at me," he hissed.
She would not harm herself. He didn't care about himself, but she was his lifemate and would have his protection from everything. Everybody. Even herself. He would go into her mind if she didn't back down. He had been careful of her wishes, giving her the time to purge the other man from her mind, but he would have to go back on his word if she continued thinking such blasphemy. They were fully bonded. She was his. Body. Mind. Soul. And heart. She just hadn't accepted it yet. But she would.
"Gabrielle," he hissed again.
She might have been more afraid when he used the word punishment. She might have been genuinely indignant, but at the same time, he was buried deep in her body and he felt the scorching liquid heat of her body's reaction to his dominance. She was made for him. She needed to learn to trust him and relax in his care. He wouldn't let anything hurt her, but she had to come to terms with being a Carpathian. Being a lifemate. Being the lifemate of an ancient who had skated too close to the edge of madness and was left with demons.
She did the most unexpected thing. She brought her hands down and framed his face. Her fingers moved, featherlight, over his rough features. She traced his eyebrows, his eyes, his bone structure, down his jaw, over his nose, and settled on his mouth.
"I won't go back on my word, Aleksei," she said. "But no matter how angry you get, no matter how many times you throw what I did in my face, I can't change it. I did it.
I betrayed you. I didn't mean to do it, but I still did. I accept that. And I accept who you are. I have lived a certain way and I'm going to make more mistakes because I don't know the rules of your world. But I won't go back on my word."
He hadn't realized his belly was tied into a thousand knots until he heard her affirmation. He believed her. She was confused. Afraid. And miserable. But she wouldn't leave him. Not by seeking the dawn.
He had hurt her. He felt her flinch when he'd brought up her betrayal. He hadn't meant to be so petty as to fling that in her face. Not again. He'd tasted fear when he read her features. She was not adept at hiding her thoughts and clearly she contemplated meeting the dawn. He hadn't known fear for so long he hadn't even recognized the emotion when it first crept into his body and then took over.
"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, kislany, 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.