His lips moved to her chin, the corner of her lips. His voice was husky, aching. "Want me enough, Shea. Want me with more than just your body. Let me into your heart." His mouth fastened on hers, not gently but wildly, hungrily. The hunger was in his eyes when he raised his head to look down at her. "Open your mind to me. Want me there, as you want me in your body. Want me coming to you wild with a need only you can satisfy. Take me into your soul and let me live there." His mouth was roaming every inch of her face, the column of her neck, the hollow of her shoulder.
His body burned and ached and needed. His heart tuned itself to the rhythm of hers. His mind was a haze of desire, erotic pictures, and sensual needs. It was filled with tenderness and love, an intensity that scorched her as much as the hunger in him. The heat of his mouth found her breast through the thin cotton of her shirt, claimed her. His body reacted savagely, painfully, his jeans tight and uncomfortable.
Jacques dragged her closer, the storm in him, around him, a part of him. "Make me whole. Shea. Do not leave me like this. Want me back. Need my body in yours. Have to touch me as I have to touch you."
Shea could feel it in him, the raging,
wild
desire, the dark, sensual hunger. His eyes held so much need, there was no way she could possibly refuse him. Her hands were already sliding over his defined, sculpted muscles, the wildness in her erupting every bit as stormily as the weather around them.
Her mouth fed on his; her hands pushed at his clothes, at hers, to rid them of the unnatural encumbrances. She couldn't get close enough to him; skin to skin was not going to do it. Jacques drew her shirt over her head, tossed it aside, nearly bent her backward to feed hungrily at her breasts. His hands slid up and down her sides, her narrow ribcage, the tiny waist.
"Let me into your heart, Shea," Jacques murmured along the creamy swell of her breast, against the frantic rhythm beating in tune to his. "Right here, little one, let me in." His teeth scraped her satin skin, his tongue caressed and stroked.
He dragged the jeans from her waist, pushed them down the curve of her slender hips. Dropping to his knees, he circled her hips with his arms, nuzzled the silk panties, burrowed deep. Shea cried out his name, and the wind whirled the sound and roared it back to her, surrounded her with him, with his scent and the strength of his desire.
"Want me, Shea. Like this. Like it is meant to be. Just like this. I have to have you. Out here in the middle of this storm. I have to have you right now." He ripped the silk panties aside, clutched her to him, feeding on flowing, honeyed heat. Her body rippled with pleasure, and she writhed against his attacking mouth, but he didn't stop, instead sending her over and over the edge.
Shea could only grab hold of his thick charcoal hair with her fist and hold on as the world rocked under her feet and the rain crashed to earth. Jacques somehow managed to do away with her shoes and drag the jeans from her body. She stood naked in the driving rain, so hot she was afraid the water would sizzle when it hit her skin.
"Do you want me, Shea?" This time his voice was hesitant, as if for all his strength, for all his power, one word from her would bring him crashing down. He was kneeling at her feet, his beloved face—so ravaged by torment, so beautifully male, so sensually Carpathian—staring up at her. He was lost without her; it was there for her to see. Raw. Stark. His total vulnerability. For just one moment the wind seemed to cease, and the storm held itself still as if the very skies were awaiting her answer.
"You can't possibly know how much I want you, Jacques, even if you're reading my mind." She pulled him to his feet, leaned forward to brush his lips with hers. "I want you in my heart. I always have." Her breath was warm on his chest. Her tongue tasted his skin, felt the answering jump of his heart. Her hands went to the buttons of his jeans, then slowly freed him from their tight confines.
A whip of lightning cracked across the sky, and for one moment his profile was lit up. His dark body, the taut muscles and his terrible need of her, was revealed starkly in the night. His eyes never left her, black and intense and so hungry. Shea's arms circled him lightly, and she touched her mouth to his flat, hard stomach. Jacques jumped as if she had burned him. Her palms followed the carved contours of his buttocks, lingered for a moment as if memorizing him. Then she was on her knees, her hand cupping him, stroking and caressing the velvet shaft. Her every movement sent a shudder of pleasure dancing through his body, a rush of flames leaping to engulf him.
Jacques caught a fistful of her red hair, soaked and darkened by the driving rain. He urged her forward, thrusting his hips aggressively, consumed with need for her touch. She was laughing softly, tauntingly, as the heated, moist interior of her mouth slid over him. He groaned and held her to him, lifted his face to the wild storm.
"You have to mean it, Shea. You cannot do this and not mean it." The words were torn from him, raw and hurting, as if from his soul.
She tightened her hold on him, followed his unintentional thrusting, deliberately enticed him further. He dragged her up, buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply to maintain a semblance of control. Hands spanning her waist, he lifted her.
"Put your legs around my waist, love." He was biting her throat gently, his teeth urgent, his tongue easing every ache.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, settled herself over him, felt the hard thickness of him pushing aggressively for entrance. He felt far too big, so hot she was afraid both of them would go up in flames. Before she could ease herself over him, he thrust upward, spearing her, filling her so completely that she cried his name. The sound was lost in the violence of the storm raging around them.
The rain ran down her face, off her pale shoulders, down her full, gleaming breasts to form beads at the peaks of her rose-colored nipples. Jacques caught the water in his mouth, his body thrusting hard into hers. Flames burned them, consumed them, leapt between them. She was fiery heat gripping him, holding him to her, drawing him deeper and deeper into the magic of her spell.
Jacques' mouth found hers again, a little brutally, feeding voraciously, dominantly, laying claim to her, branding her for all time. "Open your mind to mine." The whisper was once again against her throat
She felt his mouth at the hollow of her shoulder, his teeth, the heat and beckoning hunger. "Give me your mind, Shea. Let me in and keep me there." The whisper was a sorcerer's web. He was weaving a spell so strong, she had no thought to deny him anything.
He surged into her body, pushed through the barrier into her mind, and claimed her heart. At once everything was different. He felt her pleasure, so intense she was nearly on fire with it. She felt his pleasure, reaching for the very stars, his body gathering strength, his wanting her fulfillment above his own. He wanted the world for her, ached to have her love him as he was, damaged and broken and nearly a madman. She could see into his soul, the barely leashed beast always striving for dominance, never quite conquered. She could see his fear of losing her, of being forever vampire, loathed and hunted by his own kind. And she could see his terrible need to protect her, keep her safe, and his need to please her. He wanted to earn her respect and love, be worthy of it. He made no effort to hide the demon in him, dark and ugly, so hungry for revenge, so in need of a keeper.
Shea allowed her childhood, stark and lonely, to flow into his mind, her fears of sharing her life, her need for control and discipline, her total desire for him and her secret dreams of children and a family.
Jacques' arms tightened, and he laughed softly, triumphantly. She had faced the worst in him, and her body was meeting his every thrust with a tight, fiery friction. Her mind was consumed with hunger and need for him and a fragile commitment she was determined to see through. He took her mouth as he took her body, wild and crazy and completely uninhibited. Thunder rolled and boomed, and she keened softly, clutching at him as her body clenched around his and exploded into the stars. His hoarse cry was lost in the fury of the storm as his entire body seemed to disintegrate, to soar and erupt with all the explosive power of a volcano.
Exhausted and sated, Shea lay her head on his shoulder as he leaned against the barreled trunk of the closest tree. The rains cooled the heat of their bodies, finally penetrated the wild desire and hot hunger that had shielded them from its onslaught.
Very gently Jacques lowered her feet to the ground, retaining possession of her waist to help her trembling legs hold her up. Shea raised a hand to push back her rain-slick hair. He caught her fingers and raised her palm to his mouth. "You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen."
She smiled, shook her head at him. "You're crazy, you know that? This is one of the most magnificent lightning storms I've ever seen, and I didn't even notice until now."
He grinned at her suggestively, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Says something."
"Exactly," she agreed. "You're crazy, and I must be, too."
His hands cupped her bottom, drew her close against his hard frame, his face buried in the hollow of her shoulder as he savored the moment. He would never forget how he felt, how she looked, so wild and beautiful in the storm, and her complete acceptance of him with his shattered mind and leashed demons. "This will never go away, Shea, what we feel for one another. It never goes away. It gets stronger with each century. You never have to worry about losing this intensity."
He felt her smile against his bare skin, the small kiss she pressed into his chest. "I might not survive. I'm not sure I can stand up on my own."
"I can help you with that." There was a teasing, insinuating note in his voice, and she felt him press her closer, felt him thicken and harden against her stomach.
"You really are crazy. I hate to be a wet blanket, but it's raining all over us." She was laughing as she protested, her body moving subtly against his, unable to believe they could possibly do more than cling to one another after such a wild encounter.
He turned her so that she was against the tree, his large frame shielding her from the driving rain. Jacques' palms cupped her face, and he bent his head to hers, his mouth tender, loving, as he kissed her slightly swollen mouth. "I will never get enough of you, not if we live centuries." His palms moved over her breasts possessively down her flat stomach to rest there, fingers splayed wide. "I cannot wait to feel our child growing within you." His eyes darkened to black ice. "I never thought I could share you with anyone, but the thought of our child makes me want you even more."
"Slow down, wild man, I think we need to get to know one another better first. We're a couple of emotional cripples, and that doesn't make for great parenting."
He laughed softly against her mouth before he kissed her again. "I know what is in your mind and heart, little one. It is not so scary for me anymore. Once you make up your mind, you stick to it like glue. It is what makes you such a good researcher."
"Don't think you're going to get around me with sex. Just as you were in my mind, I was in yours. Don't think I didn't notice your tendency to want to dominate."
His hands were delving into shadows and hollows, finding all kinds of secret, sensitive places. His mouth slid down her throat, a bunting trail as he lapped up the water until he came to her breasts. "You do not think sex is a good idea in these situations?" His tongue swirled over her nipple; his teeth scraped lovingly along the contour of the creamy swell, followed it into the valley over her heart. "But you taste so good." His hand cupped springy curls, pushed against moist heat before his fingers tested the fire in her waiting sheath. "And you feel so good."
"You are so crazy," She couldn't help but laugh, pushing against his hand, using her own to stroke and caress and arouse him further. "I swear, Jacques, neither of us is going to be able to stand." She should have felt the cold, but the rain only added to the erotic moment, feeding the intensity of the flames growing between them.
Laughing, happy, Jacques backed her toward a fallen log, turning her around so that she faced away from him. Placing her hands on the moss-covered log for stability, he bent her forward so that he could place a kiss at the base of her spine. The light brush sent a shiver of excitement spiraling through her, a shudder of pleasure as his fingers assured him she was ready for him.
Catching her slender hips in his large hands, Jacques paused for a moment, marveling at the perfection of a woman's body, Shea's body. Her bottom was round and firm, well-muscled and inviting. "You are so beautiful, Shea, unbelievably beautiful." He pushed against her, prolonging the moment of entrance, watching the rain slide down her pale satin skin to meet the hard length of him.
"Jacques!" Shea pushed back against him excitedly, her body soft and yielding, wet and welcoming.
He drove into the tight, hot, velvet sheath so perfectly fitted to his body. The feel of her was ecstasy all over again, an experience he would never get enough of. Jacques thrust forward, hard and deep, wanting to fill her completely, needing to hear her soft, keening cries. It drove him wild, those little sounds coming from her throat, the way her body pushed back to meet his. The rain seemed a part of it all, surrounding them like a veil, sliding over their hot bodies, sensitizing their skin. He felt her around him, a part of him, one body, truly together, with the earth moving around them and the heavens ripped apart by their passion. He could feel every muscle in his body taut and ready, waiting, waiting, the perfect moment with her body clenching around his, taking his seed from him as he surged into her again and again, a torrent of color and beauty and miraculous pleasure. He felt her open to him, her mind and heart and soul, softly feminine, exquisitely woman, all his. Her pleasure matched his own beat for beat, shudder for shudder. He had to hold her to keep himself on his feet, and they collapsed together into the soaked vegetation.