“You are my lifemate,” she murmured against that rhythmic hammering beat, translating the ancient language.
He nudged her knees apart with one thigh, wedging his hips in the tight junction of her thighs. His heavy erection pressed into the heated entrance, bathed in her slick welcome. He wanted to take his time, but his body burned from the inside out, his Carpathian/Lycan blood demanded his mate. Her teeth scraping seductively back and forth over his pulse nearly drove him insane.
“ént?lam kuulua, avio p?l?fertiilam.” The words came out in his ancient language, all Carpathian male, claiming his lifemate. “Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed.”
“You do belong to me,” she reiterated, showing him she understood every word he uttered binding their souls with unbreakable threads.
“élidamet andam.”
“I offer my life back to you,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck.
Flames licked at his skin. He was all too aware of her teeth so close to his veins. His blood called to her. His lifemate. His lady. The one. “Uskolfertiilamet andam. Sívamet andam.”
Tatijana lifted her head to look him straight in the eye. “I give you my allegiance,” she answered back. “I give you my heart.” The ring of truth was in her voice.
He had never known tenderness, nor gentleness, but it was there inside of him—for her. She was turning him inside out with her generosity and her acceptance of who he was. He’d killed hundreds, maybe far more than he ever wanted to remember and each kill had brought him closer to that hovering darkness. In truth, he had been close more times than he’d ever care to admit, and she saw those terrible moments when only the thought of his brother kept his honor intact.
“Sielamet andam.”
“I accept your soul, Fenris,” Tatijana whispered into his throat, “and I give you mine to make us complete.”
“Ainamet andam.”
Even as the words broke from somewhere deep inside him, Tatijana made her own demands. She began a slow assault, moving her hips enticingly.
“I give you my body,” she whispered back. “I want you inside me, Fen. I want your blood in my veins, and your heart entwined with mine. I want our souls bound together, but most of all, right this minute, I want you and I to share the same skin.”
Even had he wanted, he wouldn’t have the strength to deny that breathless, ragged plea. He entered her scalding hot sheath slowly—so tight she robbed him of breath and reason. Her cool skin was in such contrast to his heat, and yet deep inside, those snug velvet muscles were on fire, surrounding and gripping, slowly submitting to his invasion. The sensation was so exquisite he could barely bite out the next words in the ritual.
“Sívamet kuuluak kaik ett? a ted.” He took her body into his keeping for all time.
He could feel her surrounding him, squeezing and milking his cock, her muscles scorching and tight, strangling him with pleasure. He felt her barrier, thin, almost insubstantial. His fingers tightened around hers.
Take a breath. Breathe for me. He wanted only pleasure for her, not even a small bite of pain. He surged forward, making her his, burying his body deep inside hers. He swallowed her gasp and stayed still, allowing her body to adjust to the invasion of his. To him, she was a haven of pleasure.
Her heart found the rhythm of his. Her hips moved, a small telling sign that she wanted, even needed more. Only then did he begin to move, a slow pull to the very verge of her entrance and then burying himself in a long, equally slow assault on both of them.
Tatijana moaned softly, her hips rising to meet his, urging him to move faster. He kept the pace slow and languid, savoring every moment of being inside her.
“Ainaak olenszal sívambin.” Her life would be cherished by him for all time. He meant those words. She was his miracle and she always would be.
He found the longer he was in her, that exquisitely tight sheath creating such friction as her muscles clung and dragged over his shaft, it was becoming increasingly harder to concentrate. Her hands stroked his hair, his back. Nails dug into him, sharp little pinpoints of pain that only added to the pleasure building, always building. Her breathless moans and soft little pleas seemed music like none other than he’d ever heard.
“Te élidet ainaak pide minan. Your life will be placed above my own for all time,” Fen said softly. How could that not be the truth? She was everything to him, with her sweet body and generous heart. Even more, she was a warrior in every sense of the word, unafraid and willing to enter into a life, that of both Lycan and Carpathian, knowing fully the danger they would always be in.
Dark Lycan (Carpathian)
Feehan, Christine's books
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