Home > Dark Ghost (Dark Saga #27)(72)

Dark Ghost (Dark Saga #27)(72)
Author: Christine Feehan

His teeth suddenly sank into her, right above her breast, right on the swelling curve. She cried out, her body exploding, imploding, the orgasm crashing over her. He let go of her hands and she wrapped both arms around his head, cradling him to her while he fed. It was the most erotic, sensual thing she had ever experienced. The wave took her hard, rushing through her body like a tsunami. She loved the feel of his mouth on her, his hands sliding over her skin, moving down, down past her belly and cupping her sex. What little breath she had left was gone when he pushed a finger into her. Deep. Possessively.

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 päläfertiilam, 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, päläfertiilam, 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.

   
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