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Page 21
Page 21
She wasn’t about to complain. Being around Tariq was enough. She had noted that all his friends were good-looking in spite of the fact that a couple of them carried some rather vicious-looking scars. She had eyes only for Tariq. She found she inhaled him into her lungs. As much as she tried not to look at him, she couldn’t help herself. She was looking now, and she couldn’t help but note the satisfaction on his face. In his eyes. He didn’t look smug, but he definitely was more than pleased that she’d entered his home.
She stopped abruptly because that wrenching inside her body didn’t go away. It increased, and she realized it had become a compulsion to touch him. To be close to him. He was only a step behind her and she was acutely aware of him. Of his every breath. Of his masculine scent. The way his muscles rippled beneath that thin silk shirt. She had the odd desire to take the single step that separated them and run her hand under his shirt to feel those muscles on her palm. Strangely, she could hear his heartbeat. Hers matched the rhythm of his exactly. That had happened before, but now she was more aware of it than ever.
Tariq took the step, coming right up behind her, and pressed his chest to her back. She should have moved, put more space between them, but she couldn’t. Her feet refused to cooperate with her brain. She melted inside. Melted into him. A part of her screamed that she wasn’t in the least acting professional, and he had women throwing themselves at him all the time. She was one among hundreds – maybe thousands.
His hands came down on her shoulders. Big hands. Strong. She felt his palms and fingers like a brand pressed into her bones. He bent his head so his mouth was against her ear. Close. So close that when he spoke his lips brushed her skin.
“You haven’t taken a breath in over a minute. Why is that, sielamet? Why do I have to remind you that you still need air?”
Oh God. She was in such trouble. Terrible trouble. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning back into him. From turning her head, giving him access to her neck. Electrical impulses sang along her skin while every cell in her body craved him. Like a drug. The need was so strong she found herself trembling. Her pulse pounded in her neck, and seemed even stronger in her clit. She felt her blood thicken. Turn molten.
He murmured something in her ear and she closed her eyes. The language was ancient. He’d said so. It sounded so different. A single phrase. Joŋesz éntölem, fél ku kuuluaak sívam belsö. She knew French, but his language was so completely different she had no idea what he said to her. She only knew that when he uttered that phrase with his accent and his low, sensual voice, she wanted more. Her world narrowed until there was only him. Only Tariq Asenguard. Genevieve had gone to bed, and there was no one to save her from herself and her reckless impulses.
His hand swept her hair over her left shoulder, leaving the right side bare. She felt his breath as his arms closed around her waist and he moved her deeper into the shadows. She could barely think with her need. His body was hot. Strong. All masculine, making her aware of the differences in them and just how fragile she was in comparison. That should have frightened her, but instead, a thrill shot through her.
He whispered again, this time in a mixture of his language and English. “Fél ku kuuluaak sívam belső, I have waited so long for you. I cannot wait one more minute. Tell me I do not have to. Give this to me, sielamet.”
She would give him anything when he used that voice. She found she couldn’t speak, lost in a dream world. His fist was suddenly in her hair, pulling her head back a little roughly, the spike of pain searing through her body straight to her sex so that she clenched and spasmed, was damp and needy. His hand in her hair kept her head back and to one side so that his lips skimmed down her neck. Scorching her. Setting her body on fire. Melting any thought of resistance.
His mouth settled over the pulse pounding in her neck. His teeth scraped back and forth in a sexy temptation. She wanted him to kiss her there. She wanted him to bite her. Just the thought of his mouth on her skin, leaving his mark on her, heightened the growing need coiling deep inside.
“Te avio päläfertiilam. Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam. You are my lifemate. I claim you as my lifemate.”
He spoke firmly as if taking a vow, yet his voice was mesmerizing, just as his mouth moving over her pulse was. She didn’t know what his words meant, but she liked them. She knew they meant something to him, and all she needed, all she wanted was to keep his mouth moving on her. Each time his teeth scraped over her pounding pulse her sex clenched harder and wept with need.
“Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. Élidamet andam. Pesämet andam. Uskolfertiilamet andam. I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give you my protection. I give you my allegiance.”
Her eyelids felt so heavy, but she forced them open to look at his face. His eyes blazed down into hers, little flames leaping inside the pupils. So dark. So mysterious. Beckoning her. She wanted him. It was that simple. His words seemed to draw her even closer to him, as if by uttering them, he had woven tiny threads between them, unbreakable and sacred.
Staring down into her eyes, holding her captive with that hand in her hair and his mouth on her pulse, he continued. “Sívamet andam. Sielamet andam. Ainamet andam. Sívamet kuuluak kaik että a ted. Ainaak olenszal sívambin. I give you my heart.”
Her heart jerked in her chest at that declaration. She wanted his heart. For a moment, the sane part of her objected to the terrible need building inside her, but he continued translating for her, and his low, mesmerizing voice, so darkly sensual, robbed her of her ability to think clearly. She could only want. Only need. Only feel his breath and his mouth and those terrible, wonderful teeth scraping against her skin, each time sending shock waves straight to her sex.
“I give you my heart. I give you my soul. I give you my body.”
Sielamet. She recognized that word. My soul. He called her that numerous times. She wanted his heart and his body.
“I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life will be cherished by me for all my time.”
That was so beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. So much so that tears blurred her vision. And then he sank his teeth into her neck. Right into her pounding pulse. Pain seared her. Heat lashed like a whip through her bloodstream, straight to her core. The tight tension in her body increased, coiling and building until she was rocking her hips helplessly in need.