Dark Storm (Dark #23)(61)
Author: Christine Feehan

"Our women don’t have many children in spite of the longevity. This flower is important to our preserving our future."

"It is?" She glanced around her, keeping her voice low. Their conversation seemed so intimate-so sexy. As always, she and Dax were secluded away from the others. When he arrived, he always seemed to find a way to isolate her before waking her.

"You need to repeat the words back to me," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

He shifted to his knees, opening his thighs wide. Her breath hitched in her lungs.

"Take the flower in both open palms and place it …"

"I get it," she said hastily, color creeping up her neck and face.

She tried to pull her fascinated gaze away from the impressive bulge in the front of his jeans. The material was stretched taut, looking as if at any moment it would give way. She’d never been so enamored, sexually frustrated or interested in a man. She’d even dreamt of him. The erotic dreams only added to her shyness with him.

Very carefully, so as not to bruise the petals, she scooped up the flower and, cupping it carefully in both hands, she transferred it to the vee between his open legs. The sides of her hands brushed along his thighs. She could feel his powerful muscles and the tremendous heat emanating from his body. Her hands shook, so she deposited the flower quickly and placed her moist palms on her own thighs.

"You say the words back to me," he encouraged.

She had listened intently to the accent and the words, but saying them aloud to him instead of Gary was intimidating. Not only that, but did she mean them? Was she his? She enjoyed being with him, was intrigued by him and felt safe with him. He had a sense of humor, was intelligent and was a walking god of sensuality. She didn’t feel alone anymore. Everything about him appealed to her-but could she trust it? Did she have the ability to hold a man like Dax? When this adventure was over, what would they do?

Dax leaned toward her, his breath warm on her face, a whisper against her lips. "Ainaak sivamet jutta, which means ‘forever to my heart connected,’ is exactly what you are. All these doubts of yours must be laid to rest. There is no other for me. You can turn me away, but you will be condemning me to a half-life. You possess the other half of my soul. You have only to touch my mind, Riley, and you will know me far better than others will know their partners in their lifetimes."

"Don’t you think this is happening too fast?"

"I am not familiar with your society or culture," he admitted, "but in mine, we have certainty. You are my other half. There can be no mistake. You restored my emotions and the color to my life. Your soul completed mine. My heart calls to yours. I crave the taste of you and I burn for your body. There is no doubt in my mind."

How could she not respond to that? He made her feel beautiful. Intelligent. The only woman in the world. She wasn’t ready to give that up. In any case, what did she have to go back to? Her parents were gone. There was nobody. But …

She leaned closer to him, over the flower, her mouth scant inches from his. "I want to do this. I really do, but I’m not certain what you want of me in the future. I have no idea what your world is like, other than vampires, dragons and things with big teeth occupying it."

His gaze moved over her face, branding her, claiming her, burning his possession into her. "We’ll take it a day at a time until you’re comfortable. I’ll explain everything to you as we go along. Anything you’re not ready for, I don’t mind waiting. It’s important to me that you want me in the same way that I want you."

She studied his expression. He felt right to her. For once in her life she was going to let her heart overrule her mind. She bit her lower lip and nodded. Instantly his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her stomach muscles bunched and fingers of arousal teased her thighs. If he could do that to her with just a look, what could he do when he was really touching her?

"Do you remember the words I said to you?"

She nodded slowly, took a deep breath and jumped off the proverbial cliff, praying he’d catch her. "Tied vagyok." Her lashes veiled her eyes. "Yours am I."

The flames in his eyes leapt, revealing desire bordering on lust. His chest rippled, all those delicious muscles beneath that thin cotton shirt of his. She felt as if she was free-falling through a storm of glittering diamonds.

"Sivamet andam. My heart I give you."

His eyes blazed fire. She felt his gaze burning right through her skin to her very bones, branding her. Her heart matched the rhythm of his. Her breathing followed his. She swore her pulse found his. She felt him breathing in and out. Felt the blood rushing through his veins. She heard his heartbeat in her head.

"Te avio palafertiilam. You are my lifemate."

The moment she uttered the words, Dax poured into her mind. Warm. Filled with strength. He was both gentle and tough. Courageous. Images flashed through her mind, his memories, his youth, his centuries of hunting, his stark, utter loneliness, even when he traveled with Arabejila, believing he would never have a woman of his own, believing he had failed his best friend and that friend’s daughter. Her heart ached for him. She wanted to be the woman to comfort and love him.

"Now, pick up the flower again and come sit between my legs while I braid the vines and small flowers in your hair. While I braid your hair, you feed me one petal as you eat one. Once this is done, our courtship ritual will be complete and you will have indicated your willingness for me to continue with our relationship."

Riley frowned at him, but without a word scooted closer, turning to face away from him. Her heart pounded with the enormity of what she was doing. She was no young girl to jump into a relationship because she was overwhelmed with physical attraction, and yet she seemed too helpless to stop herself. She wanted him. Craved him. And every minute in his company just seemed to amplify her needs.

He reached out and pulled her into the junction between his open legs, back against him, until she was so close, every muscle seemed imprinted into her skin. He radiated heat, his warmth surrounding her like a blanket. She pressed her lips together as he gathered her long hair in his hands, dividing it into three sections.

A shiver of arousal went through her. She was burning up. Needing him. Was it the flower? The ceremony? His taste? Or the man? Everything was blending together into one potent aphrodisiac. His hands were in her hair and every gentle tug sent electricity arcing and snapping through her. Her need of him bordered on obsession. She broke off a petal and reached behind her with it.

Their eyes met. A flood of liquid heat dampened her panties. She had the sudden urge to reach back and pull his head to hers. The flames in his eyes leapt and burned. His lips parted-those perfectly sculpted, tempting lips-and she placed the petal in his mouth. His white teeth bit down, and her stomach clenched in response. Deliberately, eyes still locked with his, she put a petal in her mouth. His taste burst on her tongue, hot and masculine, shattering her every idea of the hunger between a man and a woman. She felt almost desperate for him.