Dark Guardian (21 page)

Lucian's dark eyes searched hers, held her gaze. "Before I do this thing, before you are mine for all eternity, I want you to know that I know I can make you happy in this existence, that there is no other who can do so, and that I will move heaven and earth for you if that is what I need to do."

His black gaze found and captured hers. She saw the terrible hunger so strong in him, so stark and raw and alive with desperate need. The sane part of her knew he was saying something important, something she should analyze before she dared succumb to the dark, beckoning fire, but it was too late. Her arms were already sliding around his neck, and she was giving up her mouth to the sheer domination of his. Heat and fire. A volcano of such need rising seemingly out of nowhere. His need, her need—she couldn't tell the difference. Couldn't tell where he began and she left off.

Lucian's skin was hot and sensitive, far too sensitive to feel fabric brush against it. He needed Jaxon's soft skin pressed close to him, not the annoying cloth barrier between them. Nothing would ever be between them again.

His resolve was complete, total. She would never again be in such danger. She belonged to him, had been made for him, his miracle, his to love and protect. She was more than his life. She was his soul.

He thought away his shirt—an easy accomplishment. But it was his hands that caught the hem of her blouse and lifted it slowly over her head. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away. It was his breathing that was out of control, his heart that was racing so quickly. Or was it hers? He couldn't tell anymore. Only that she was hot, silken fire, and he needed to burn. Was already burning. His hands found their way to her skin. So soft. So perfect. The feel of her was almost more than he could bear. He had waited so long, never once believing she existed for him. He had existed in that black, endless void without hope, without the thought of light. Without the possibility of Jaxon. Was she real?

His mouth fastened on hers, hot and hard and hungry, sweeping her into another world where there was only Lucian and his hard muscles, the touch of his hands, the aggression of his body. He was everywhere, swamping her, in her mind, in her heart. His hands were touching her intimately, exploring every inch of her. His mouth was sheer magic, so that her world narrowed to pure feeling, so that there was no way to think, only to feel.

Lucian lifted her easily, his mouth still on hers, so that she had no real awareness of anything but him. There
was
nothing else for her, he knew. His mind removed the last barrier between them—the rest of their clothing—so that when he took her down to the oriental rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, he knew she felt the thick carpet against her already sensitized skin. He lifted his head to look at her, to watch the firelight caress her face. She was so beautiful, simply looking at her actually hurt at times.

Her large eyes were gazing at him with an enticing invitation, sexy yet innocent in that she didn't really know what she was agreeing to. His world. His woman. His true lifemate for all eternity. Deliberately he bent his head to find her soft mouth, to taste the silken heat so addicting to him. She was his. The reality of it was more than he could comprehend. Her skin was soft, felt like satin. The shape of her curves, the lines of her body, the perfectly proportioned form. She was a miracle to him, and he worshiped her leisurely. His mouth wandered over her throat, so vulnerable to one such as he. With others she was careful, yet with him she was so trusting.

He found the swell of her breast, heard her gasp as he indulged himself, as he lost himself and the world around him in her body. Her waist, so small, so perfectly designed, the triangle of tight blond curls below beckoning him. He inhaled her scented call, the wild, untamed need rising to match his own. His teeth nipped at her inner thigh, easing her legs apart, while his hand found moist heat, a welcoming to the hunger in his body.

Jaxon heard the soft sound escaping from her own throat as Lucian began a slow, intimate exploration, finding her every secret place. He took his time; he had learned patience over the centuries, and he had waited for this moment for so long, he intended her first time to be perfect for her. His mind was firmly merged with hers so she could feel his rising need, a tidal wave swamping him, hot lava pouring through his body where his blood had been. She could feel the painful ache, and the total pleasure he took in the erotic things he was doing to her body. She found his long hair, wrapped her fists in it to hold on to as her body began to wind tighter and tighter with need.

The world seemed to dissolve around her as little ripples of pleasure started deep inside her and spread until she was clutching at him for anchor. Lucian loomed over her, his shoulders wide, the muscles of his arms and back defined and taut from the effort to go slowly. He eased into her, inch by slow inch, until he met the thin barrier of resistance. She was so tight and hot, he was going up in flames. His hands caught her small hips. Even now, at this moment, with his body urging him to bury himself deep within her, with a roar in his ears and a red haze of desire in his mind, he realized just how small she was, how fragile she seemed in his hands.

"Lucian." She whispered his name, and he bent to take her mouth again, surging forward as he did so. Her soft gasp was caught for all time at that first taking, that first merging of body and mind.

"Relax for me, angel," he instructed softly, leaving a trail of fire from her throat to her breast. He waited for her body to stretch to accommodate his size, to become used to the feel of his invasion. "You were created for me, the other half of my soul." His teeth moved back and forth over her pulse. He whispered softly to her, sweeping resistance from her mind, so that there was only acceptance of his every need.

Jaxon's nails dug into his back as white-hot pain lanced through her, then gave way to something dark and erotic as his teeth sank deeply into her. His hips surged forward, and he was sweeping her into a world of sensuality unlike any she had ever imagined. His mouth, feeding on her, was intimate and sexy, and she cradled his head to her, offering her breast, wanting him to take the very essence of her life into him for all time. His body moving into hers in long, sure strokes, each deeper and harder than the last, creating such a friction of heat that they were both on fire, a single, living, breathing flame. His tongue stroked across the small pinpricks on her breast, and he moved within her faster, surging deep to find her very core.

His palm cradled the back of her head, and in his mind he built the need, thought it, became need, until he was the only thing she could think of. Jaxon had to quench that terrible urgency that was in the red haze of his mind. He held her head close to the heavy muscles of his chest, and immediately a small wound appeared there. Lucian pressed her mouth to him, his mind controlling hers, needing her to drink deeply from the dark well. The feel of her mouth feeding on him was like nothing he had ever experienced. Her body, hot and tight, was velvet surrounding his, a fiery sheath that tested the limits of his control.

While she drank, Lucian very softly recited the ritual words once more. He wanted this, the rightness of it, the completeness. This was his true lifemate for all eternity, and he wanted the ceremony to be exact, so that there was no chance she would escape him. No chance that harm could come to her. "I claim you as my lifemate. I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give to you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life, happiness, and welfare will be cherished and placed above my own for all time. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care."

He would reside in her for all time, would know immediately should danger threaten her. And she would reside in him, anchoring him so that the beast within had no chance to be unleashed on the world.

His body was going up in flames. He could feel himself fast losing his control. At once he removed the compulsion for her to feed, certain he had given her enough blood for a true exchange. With the ritual complete—their third blood exchange and their mating—he allowed himself the indulgence of losing himself in her body. He buried himself in her, over and over, feeling her heat, her fire, taking him in, cleansing the darkness from his soul. All those empty centuries, all the dark deeds, necessary though they might be, all the missing pieces—she was somehow putting him back together again. The ecstasy of her body was almost more than he could stand. He felt her muscles clenching around him, tighter and tighter, spiraling him ever more deeply into that fiery vortex, milking him so that he was exploding, shattering, taking her with him into the unknown.

Jaxon clutched at Lucian for security, for a safe haven in a storm of such sensation she was shocked by it. She had no idea she could feel this way, no idea her body was capable of such things. Lucian was lying above her, careful to keep his weight from crushing her, his body still locked firmly within hers. It was sexy, erotic, and terribly intimate. She savored the taste of him in her mouth, a slightly coppery flavor, masculine and addicting. She lay beneath him, staring up at him in wonder.

There was a memory in her mind, of her mouth moving over his chest. Even as she tried to catch it, the fleeting thought brought her to instant awareness of the hard thickness of him buried deep within her body. He was moving gently, almost as if he had to move, as if the feel of her surrounding him was more than he could bear passively. His hands framed her face. "You are so beautiful, Jaxon, so truly beautiful."

She moved against him, her body as hot and restless as his, as in need as his. The carpet beneath her skin brushed at her like fingers. His mouth was moving over her body again, his tongue swirling over her breasts, his masculine being reveling in his ability to take her over and over, to indulge himself.

She was heat, silk, everything he could ever want. And she wanted him with the same urgent need he had for her. He watched the firelight play over her body, caressing the shadows and lingering on the creamy lines of her small frame. He watched his body moving in and out of her, the erotic sight heightening his pleasure even more. He bent his head to the tip of her breast because he could, his hands stroking her small waist and flat stomach. All the time his hips moved slowly, leisurely, building the heat between them until they could both once more go up in flames. He wanted it this way, slow and long and easy enough to last for all time. He wanted to live there in the safe haven of her body, where miracles really did happen.

"Lucian," she said in breathless wonder, her hands sliding over his shoulders, soothing him.

He was gentle with her, loving, ensuring her pleasure, yet at the same time she could feel him watching her closely, waiting for something. Waiting for her to condemn him. She caught that thought from him before he could censor it, and at once she raised her head to find his mouth with hers, wanting to wipe away his fear of her displeasure. Lucian couldn't think that he had hurt her, that she might never be able to forgive him. What they were doing was beautiful and right. She felt that in every cell of her body. How could he think otherwise? How could he condemn himself when he had been so gentle and careful of her?

"I do not want you to loathe me, angel." He bent his head to kiss her vulnerable throat. "I have searched your memories, your heart and soul, and have found no evidence of hatred—not even for your worst enemy. It is the one thing that gives me hope."

She wrapped her arms around his head as his body began to move with more aggression, with harder, faster strokes. Her body seemed to find the same rhythm as his, rising to meet his so that she could feel him deep within her, a part of her. She needed to hold him close as she felt the building of a firestorm, flames whipping from him to her and back again, higher and higher, rushing through their bodies, a fierce conflagration finally exploding into a thousand fragments, raining sparks down upon them.

Lucian rolled over, taking her with him so that she lay atop him. The firelight danced over them, yet the air seemed to help cool their bodies. His hand pushed at the wild blond hair falling around her face so that he could look at her. "You are mine, you know." He made it a statement.

Her body certainly knew it. She felt him in every cell, alive, living within her. She smiled, her hands caressing the heavy muscles of his chest. "You were angry with me for going outside, weren't you?"

"I do not honestly think I could be angry with you," he said thoughtfully. "You are my life. My miracle. I
feared
for you, and I did not care for the feeling. I have never known fear. I hunted and destroyed, went into battle a thousand times, and I never knew this emotion. I know it now, and I do not like it." His hand was back in her hair, stroking, twisting strands, his fingers occasionally finding the nape of her neck to massage her. "It is in your nature to protect others. You are very different from what I envisioned once I knew you existed."

Jaxon lifted her head. "Really? Just what was your vision?"

He smiled into her dark eyes. "I have a feeling my answer could get me into trouble. I think I will remain silent."

"Oh, no, you won't. You tell me all about this wonder woman." She thumped his chest for emphasis.

"The women of my race are tall and elegant with long black hair and dark eyes. They would never go hunting a vampire or ghoul or even a madman, especially when asked by their lifemate to stay within a certain area. And before you consider them downtrodden, these women do this because they have complete faith in the ability of their lifemate to protect them. You go rushing out headlong, your first thought for my safety instead of your own. I am the most powerful hunter our people have known, yet you think to save me from one such as a ghoul." He smiled and reached to kiss away her frown. "I am not complaining, angel. I am merely stating a fact that I have come to understand."

"Tall? Elegant? What does that mean? What do you mean by 'elegant'? Just because I'm short doesn't mean I can't be elegant. I wear jeans because I like them, and they're comfortable. Long black hair may be beautiful—it is on you—but there's nothing wrong with blond hair. Or short hair, for that matter. It's very practical to care for." She sounded indignant.