CHAPTER 43

Decision made, Mia finally allowed herself to do what she had wanted to do since the moment she had met this man. She leaned forward and ran her tongue along one of the dark stripes near his neck. His skin tasted like spice and salt and she immediately did it again, pressing herself closer.

Draven let out a strangled groan, his hands fisted in the cloud-like blankets. Still, he didn't move.

Gaining courage, Mia's fingers joined her exploration, she trailed them along his markings, careful to avoid the injury. They were just so...fascinating.

“Mia,” Draven whispered. A warning.

She smiled against his skin.

“I'm certain, Draven.”

He turned, those intense eyes spearing her with such longing, such need.

And then his mouth was on hers, the sharp tips of his fangs scraping gently against her bottom lip. He turned and his arms were around her, crushing her to him, his fingers shoved into her hair. His tongue darted out and played along the seam of her mouth. She opened her lips to him eagerly and his tongue dove inside, tangling with hers, giving and taking. The fangs scraped against her lip again and an erotic shudder went through her. Draven chuckled and repeated the action. He shifted so that she was half across his lap, his erection pressing against her hip, and devoured her mouth, alternately licking and suckling. Behind her head, his hand trembled and the thought of his need spurred her own. She pressed against him, meeting every touch of his tongue, gasping when his free hand found the hem of her shirt and slid beneath.

“I have wanted this from that first moment,” he whispered against her lips. “You are a very beautiful woman, Mia.”

And she felt beautiful. She felt desired and needed by this man. It was the headiest feeling she had ever encountered.

His fingers trailed upward along the curve of her waist, beneath her ribs, and then upward to cup her right breast. His thumb ran across her nipple, the roughness of it sending delicious tingles down her spine to pool in a lake of heat right where she wanted him most. He spent time kneading and brushing the area, gently rolling the taught peak between his thumb and forefinger before moving to the other breast. His kisses became more urgent and she sensed he was on the edge of control; wondered what it would be like if he ever really let himself go.

Her hands were busy, too, running along the firm chest, up and around his neck, curling into his silky locks and then down along his arms. She wanted to touch everywhere, to feel every part of his skin, but his own hand was in the way. It took her far too long to realize he was doing it on purpose. She growled at him. He growled back, grabbed both of her wrists, and pushed her back until she lay beneath him on the bed.

“I will not shame myself by finding release before you,” he told her. He stretched her arms above her head and used his other hand to push her shirt up and over her breasts.

When his head lowered, and his mouth found her sensitive nipples, she nearly screamed at the sensation. When his fangs scraped along them, she did.

“How do you keep doing that?”

“What? This?” he scraped her nipple again and her entire body arched off the bed in pleasure. The self-satisfied grin in his voice vibrated through her very bones. “Our long ago ancestors developed these,” he licked his tongue over his fangs, “not just for hunting, but to ensure our mates were well pleased enough to remain firm by our sides. I wasn't sure the muwi would work on Earth women.” He licked the nipple he had scraped. “I am happy that it does.”

Mia panted. She had nearly cum, just from that. It was no wonder the ancient Livarians had stuck to their men. They were addictive.

“Muwi?”

Draven moved to the other breast, licking and suckling but not using those amazing fangs. “A pleasure hormone. It enhances all aspects of sexual and emotional pleasure while we make love. In our women, it also triggered ovulation.”

That though distracted her momentarily, alarmed her a little even. Of course she understood the function of sex, she knew it could result in a child. Knew, even, that for the Livarians, such a thing was everything they had hoped. But there was no way she was quite ready for such a change.

All remaining thoughts and doubts disappeared when he scraped the second nipple. Pleasure exploded inside her, an intensity she had never reached with Brian, or anyone. She tossed as the waves racked her body, her muscles clamping down hard but unfulfilled.

“That's it, Mia, let go,” Draven crooned. He waited, holding her there until her body stopped shaking and she lay there panting. Before she could speak, to demand he do it again, he had pulled her up, releasing her arms only long enough to pull the shirt over her head before pressing her back into the bed firmly. Then his mouth was back on her, moving along the curve of her neck, trailing kisses along her collar bone, back toward her breast. She twisted, giving him better access, but he merely kissed the peaks chastely before heading lower. He had to release her arms and she instantly dove her hands into his hair, trying to guide him back up. She wanted him at her breasts again. Then it occurred to her his intentions. Dear God, he wasn't going to use those fangs there?

He looked up at her from her stomach, still trailing kisses lower. Oh yes, that was exactly his intentions. She squirmed from the thought, a little afraid at what might happen. He clamped large hands on her hips, holding her still. He used a knee to separate her thighs and laid down between them.

Tortuously slowly, he kissed lower, beneath her navel and then, with evil patience, along the inside of her left thigh. Never once did those delicious teeth touch her skin. He began working his way back up, toward her core. Every touch was making her wetter, her mind fogged and she only knew that she needed his cock or his teeth but something had better happen soon or she was going to explode. She bucked beneath him, or she tried to, he was too strong to get far. He skipped the tender folds and began making his way down her right thigh.

“Draven,” she groaned.

“Patience, Mia, I have waited for this moment for a long, long time. I will not rush it.”

When his tongue met her folds at last, she bucked again, her hands in his hair. He lapped and sucked the little nub there and then lapped again. Her fingers had tightened so that she was gripping him hard, to hold him there, ask for more, or maybe to anchor herself amongst the waves of heat and erotic pleasure that were building. Then it happened. The single scrape of a fang, right on the most sensitive part.

Mia's world exploded. There was nothing except intense, immeasurable pleasure. It began at her center and raced along her spine, upward and outward. Her body came apart, each particle crashing against another over and over. The waves kept coming, even when exhaustion set in. Huh. Death by orgasm. It wasn't such a bad way to go.

Mia awoke in Draven's room, wrapped in his arms, naked, pressed against his own bare skin. She felt amazing, still coming down from the high he had pushed her to, the remnants of pleasure still echoing through her.

“I died,” she blinked up at him.

“You feinted,” he grinned smugly. “Turns out you are very receptive to the muwi.”

She groaned. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Never,” he agreed. “I'm going to bring it up every chance I get, and then I'm going to do it again.”

She held up a hand to him. It was shaking.

“I don't think I can handle that again.”

He leaned to her lips, kissing gently. “You can handle me, Mia, and I will wring so much pleasure from you that you will forget all others before me.”

Yeah, that wasn't going to be a problem. She was already forgetting what's his name.

The kiss deepened, his hands gentle and stroking, slowly building that fire again. This time when Mia reached for him, he let her. She trailed her fingers over his chest, along the hard ridges of his abs, and lower, lower. She brushed his erection, pleased with how it lurched at her touch. Then she ran her fingers sideways, along his thighs, teasing him as he had her. His breathing hitched and she looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, a muscle twitching along his jaw.

She might not have teeth that distributed pleasure hormones, but she could still play his game. She pulled out of his hold. At first, his arms tightened, but when she started licking down his chest he released her easily. She lapped and teased at his skin, getting closer and closer, but not quite touching his erection. While her mouth worked along his abdomen, she began stroking. Lightly at first, trailing just her fingertips, and then grasping the length of him and pumping up and down.

When her lips closed over his head at last, he cried out and lifted upward. She didn't have the strength to pin him to the bed, as he had her, so she went with him suckling and pumping.

He let out a muffled sound which the translator didn't catch, but Mia took to be a curse. She smiled against him and pumped harder, faster, using her tongue to circle the underside of the sensitive tip. She dared to look up at him, and the sight had her ready and wet once more. His expression was strained, the muscles in his jaw and neck tight with the need for release. If she pushed, she would have him spilling his seed. Determined, she allowed the tips of her teeth to brush over the tip; not enough to hurt.

Before she could register his movement, she was flipped beneath him, his face inches from hers, his big thigh between her legs. He spent a moment there, just breathing the same air. One of his hands came up to brush through her hair.

“You are the best thing that has been in my life for a long time,” he told her.

He moved on top of her, and she spread her thighs willingly, eagerly. The tip of his erection slid against her core…once...twice, rubbing over the clitoris, still intensely sensitive from her earlier orgasm. Orgasms. He hissed as he pushed into her and she studied the play of muscles on his chest, ran her hands up his arms, caressed the back of his neck. The feeling of him filling her was pushing the edge closer, the sight of him...

He slid all the way in, and she moaned as he did, joined at last. Carefully he lifted her, so she was angled upward toward him, then he moved a hand to her mound, flicking and rubbing as he slid outward, and then in again.

Mia arched her back, pushing toward him, greedy for more. He met her, stroke for stroke, each pulse of pressure as he entered, each gentle caress of his fingertip pushing her higher.

He built speed and rhythm until they were all but slamming together, desperate to be closer, both needing to be deeper, harder.

She knew he hit the first wave of orgasm when he roared, his body stiffening, his head tossed back. Then the world was coming apart again, but this time her body had his length to center around, to clamp and release upon. She shook as the waves took hold, peaking at a place that was almost painful. The room spun, everything within her pulsing violently.

Goddammit she was not going to black out again. She held him and whimpered, arms wrapped around his neck as soon as he lowered himself to her lips, seeking her. It took forever for the waves to subside, to let loose enough that she could relax against the bed, drenched in sweat. And he held her until she collapsed, still in her, letting the pleasure ride through.

When at last she opened her eyes, one last time before sleep took her, she found him watching her, his eyes alight with an emotion she had never seen from him. Joy.

He leaned over and touched his forehead to hers. “Sleep well, wife,” he told her, before gathering her in his arms. And it was probably the safest she had ever felt.