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  He stroked her center with one long finger. Her body arched, her mouth opening in a silent scream. "I love how responsive you are, but hold still. I don't want to lose all control until I know you're ready for me."

  She was ready? Was he crazy? How much readier could she get? If he didn't do something soon she was going to spontaneously combust.

  This time he stroked a finger inside of her, sinking deep while her muscles clamped around him tightly. His breath hissed out. "So hot. That's right, mon chaton feroce. Burn for me."

  How could she not? Only he could put out the fire he'd started and he wasn't cooperating. A small sobbing gasp escaped as a second finger sank with the first, stretching her. Again the bite of pain added to the electrical charges streaking through her bloodstream, finding every bundle of nerves in her body and igniting them.

  She whimpered when he removed his fingers, but a heartbeat later, they were back . . . Not his fingers this time. Her heart pounded as he began to push inside of her. He held her legs straight up into the air, kneeling between her thighs so her legs were spread wide, to more easily accommodate his invasion. He was unyielding as he entered her, not slowing, but a patient steady pressure, forcing her body to accept his. Her muscles fought him, but gave way as he continued that ceaseless forward pressure until he lodged against a barrier.

  Zev gasped. Swore. "You're so damned tight and hot." He managed to get the words out between clenched teeth. He had to fight to keep from losing control. He needed another minute and she had to stay still. Her sheath was heaven, fiery silk, alive and scorching hot, surrounding him, gripping him tightly and stealing all discipline. He didn't want to hurt her and ruin this moment for both of them.

  Branislava was senseless, writhing under him, trying to force him into her, her body desperate for his. He brought his hand down hard on her buttocks. Her eyes flew open, her gaze widening. Around his cock, hot liquid spilled out, enfolding him. Her nerve endings were wired for pleasure and everything he did seemed to add to it.

  "Hold still," he snarled, baring his teeth at her in warning.

  She gasped and tried to obey. He didn't wait for her to lose control again, he surged forward, driving deep, claiming her body for himself. He was a large man and he knew it would take her body a little bit of time and effort to fully accommodate him. He lodged against her womb, watching her for signs of discomfort.

  Branislava's eyes pleaded with him as her head tossed back and forth. Yanking her legs over his shoulders, spreading her even wider, he let his wolf loose. He began to surge into her, thrusting hard, over and over, setting a relentless, merciless rhythm. Each stroke sent flames burning hotter, her sheath winding tighter, or maybe his cock swelled even more, but the friction bordered on ecstasy.

  He wanted more, always more, driving deeper, until at times he feared he might lodge in her stomach, but the pleasure engulfed him, wrapping him in her fire. He had known all along she would be like this, hot and wild, her passion a match for his. He was rough with her, and she answered with pleas for more, wanting, like him, to burn in that inferno.

  Around them, spreading out from beneath her, the ground began to glow as if their wild joining drew the magma deep from beneath the earth itself. Tiny tongues of red and gold licked at the grass surrounding them, but he couldn't have stopped if his life depended on it. His breathing became harsh, and his lungs burned for air. The cooling mist settled over his body like a thousand tongues as around him the world seemed to erupt into flames.

  He felt his body swell, lock into hers, holding her while she gripped him with scorching tight muscles. Somewhere in his toes, it started, that fireball of sheer bliss, rising like a firestorm, crashing through his body, overtaking him before he could catch his breath.

  He let his head fall back as she milked him, drawing his seed out in long, rocketing spurts while her orgasm roared through her, tearing through her core in vicious waves that ripped through her stomach to her breasts.

  He felt every strong convulsion of the rippling walls around his cock, the waves of fire engulfing her, consuming him, burning them both clean. She lay, panting, staring up at him with shocked, emerald eyes, the sparks in her hair subsiding. He watched her with those same hungry eyes, holding her body locked to his, refusing to let her go yet.

  She made no move to try to roll away from him, but lay there, her legs over his shoulder, her breasts heaving, the combined scent of them permeating the air. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. Her eyes were just a little dazed, her lips parted and her body flushed with a soft glow, much like the surrounding mist.

  "Do you know what you are?" he asked.

  She shook her head, still fighting for her breath.

  He loved the way her breasts rose and fell with her struggle. "Perfect. You're perfect. There could be no other woman for me. Only you. I don't think you ever have to worry about satisfying my appetites."

  She reached out to touch the small inch of his heated flesh where they joined, the only part of him that wasn't still inside of her. "I want to please you, Zev." Her fingers danced over his hard, velvety shaft, almost reverently.

  Just her gentle touch set his cock jerking in anticipation. "Have no doubts that you do . . . and you will. I'm a man who will always let you know, firmly, what I want or need. I'll expect the same from you. If you're ever afraid of anything I ask you to do, just tell me and we'll work it out. Don't just say no and refuse me. That's important to me, Branka. I want you to trust me enough to talk to me about anything that frightens you."

  "I didn't know fear could be so sexy," she whispered. "The not knowing added to the excitement."

  "And you, woman, are as hot as hell. Or heaven. Is heaven hot?" He flashed her a grin. "Even the mist glowed for us."

  Branislava looked around her as the colors in the mist began to fade. "That might be a cool effect, but honestly, do we want the neighbors knowing every time we make love?"

  Zev laughed. "We nearly burned down the forest. We might be banned from the neighborhood."

  Very gently, he rubbed her calf and then her thigh, his fingers moving up to massage her buttocks before he placed her foot back on the ground. He did the same with the other. His gaze moved over her body, and his smile faded to a frown. "Did I hurt you, Branka?"

  "No, of course not. If you hurt me, you'd be fried in a few places that really matter to you. I'm a woman who believes in retaliation, remember?"

  He leaned forward and another aftershock sent her tight muscles strangling his cock, so that his breath caught in his lungs. He placed both hands on her flat belly, fingers splayed wide to take in as much skin as he could.

  "I love that little trait in you."

  Her green eyes smoldered with her hidden fire. She still burned hot and it was difficult for her to conceal her true self behind her cool facade. He loved that quality in her as well, all that fire contained in her slender body just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

  His body slowly began to relax and he allowed himself to slip from inside of her, that secret haven he would always be addicted to. Sitting back, he let his gaze drift possessively over her. Surrounded by the mist and trees, they remained quiet together, just the two of them, carving out a small moment for themselves there in the night.

  Branislava was the first to move. She knew Zev would never hurry her, or push her to return to the others and face whatever horror she had discovered that had sent her running into the night. She used his shoulder to draw herself up beside him. Immediately he wrapped his arm around her hips, holding her to him.

  Her heart gave a little lurch and began to beat faster. It surprised her that Zev could do that to her--that anyone could. The moment he touched her, her body reacted with need and hunger. She hadn't known just how intense physical attraction could be until he had come into her life. Her wolf. She looked down into his eyes and again her heart stuttered.

  He focused wholly on her, a predator targeting his prey, looking as if he might d
evour her all over again.

  "I've got to clean myself up," she said softly, regretfully. She enjoyed standing there, his seed running down her thighs while his hands massaged her buttocks.

  "I like you just the way you are," he objected.

  She laughed. "You would, but I think we should behave ourselves and go back to our guests. They are, after all, sitting on our verandah wondering what happened to us."

  "We lit up for the forest. I doubt they can't figure it out."

  Color and heat infused her body but she shrugged delicately. "Still, we have company."

  "You're always going to insist I be civilized, aren't you?" His fingers stole up her thighs, taking her breath.

  Branislava's fingers anchored in his thick hair. He leaned into her and bit her left buttock and then her outer thigh, making her yelp, flooding her body once more with hot, welcoming liquid. As his teeth teased her, his fingers moved inside of her, pressing deep, exploring her heat all over again.

  She was already so sensitive just that intrusion sent her body reeling again. She gasped, air exploding out of her lungs, her mind melting as he found the small spot that made her crazy with need.

  "What are you doing? We have a duty . . ."

  "Your only duty is to please me," he murmured. "Straddle me."

  She shook her head, but complied, placing one foot on either side of his legs. He caught her hips and urged her down right over the top of him, so that she was crouched just above his lap. Her eyes stared into his.

  "That's my duty? To please you?" she echoed, amusement warring with her rising sensuality. She loved the feel of his hands, the look in his eyes. Already she could feel the heat of his thick erection pressing at her dripping entrance.

  "Your only duty," he emphasized.

  His hair was thick, a wolf's pelt, long and falling around him. His chest was heavy with defined muscle, his face carved and beautifully masculine. She loved the look of him, the strength of him and the stamp of absolute authority he wore so easily.

  "Well then, if that's my only duty, I'd better be excellent at it," she replied, and sank down right over him, completely sheathing him, watching the way his hooded eyes went completely wolf.

  He filled her, stretching her all over again, insisting her tight muscles give way for his intrusion. She seated herself on his lap, adjusting first one way and then the other, pleased to see the breath hiss out of him each time she made a small movement.

  "I'm not certain how best to please you," she murmured, lifting her hips slowly and then riding him down even more slowly. "Like this? Does this do anything for your pleasure, sir?"

  His fingers dug into her hips, but he let her take control. "I think you're on the right track."

  Her eyebrow went up. "You think? Hmmm, perhaps you'd like this better?" She rose again, her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she slowly made little circles with her hips, her muscles tightening, clamping down as she spiraled down, increasing the friction on his sensitive shaft.

  He swallowed, the breath slamming out of his lungs in a long groan of sheer pleasure. "That's it, that's what I want, but a little faster." His hands guided her into a faster rhythm. His voice turned hoarse and raw. "A little harder."

  Branislava laughed softly, throwing her head back, letting the fiery sensations take her. She rose again, riding him now, a harder, faster rhythm, just as he preferred.

  "This is where you belong," he declared. "Me, inside of you. You surrounding me. Locked together just like this."

  She felt like she belonged. She loved the way his body impaled hers, stretching her so deliciously, just skimming that edge of pain, but not quite, just sheer pleasure streaking through her body with every stroke.

  He began to move her body with his enormous strength as his breath hissed out of his lungs, his hands urgent and hard, bringing her body up and down so that her ride was blissfully wild. Branislava closed her eyes, and let her head fall back, let his harsh pace consume her, take her to another realm, where there was only the two of them. Only this.

  There was a sense of total belonging, not imprisonment. She craved him, desired him and even needed him, but there was such an awareness of freedom. He made her feel as if she could soar through the skies unfettered, at any time. He made her feel beautiful and sexy. He made her feel no other woman would ever do for him--only her.

  His body moved in hers and a surge of electricity charged through her so that every nerve ending burst into life. Her world narrowed until there was only Zev and the way they fit together, the way he moved like a piston, the hard pace that sent streaks of fire rushing through her bloodstream and centering in her deepest core.

  Zev urged her into a wilder, faster pace, his hands hard on her hips, as he thrust into her over and over. She rode him with abandon, floating in a dream world of pure feeling. Once again the ground beneath them heated as if the combination of the two of them drew magma up from the very depths. Her skin grew hot, as did his, and around them the mist glowed that strange red orange.

  "How can you be so scorching hot?" he asked. "Silken fire gripping me in a tight fist."

  She reveled in the wonder and raw desire in his voice. She loved that she made him feel this way, the same amazing way he made her feel. She rode him at a furious, fiery pace, and when he leaned forward to lick at her breast, the fire that had been building and building, crowned, exploding through her with tremendous force, taking him with her.

  For a moment the edges around her vision went red with flames. She felt them licking over her skin like a thousand hot tongues. She circled his neck with her arms and leaned against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't know how you do it, Zev, but when I'm with you like this, every bad thing in my life is gone. You wipe it away, so that for these precious moments, I'm a clean slate and the only thing written there is your name."

  "That's an extraordinary thing to say to me," Zev said. "Thank you."

  She turned her face into his neck. "I thought, once we were out of the ice caves, that we would never have to deal with anything as evil as Xavier ever again."

  Zev's hand slid up her back, pressing her closer to him. There was intimacy in his touch, but in a comforting way. His fingers reached the nape of her neck and began a slow massage. He didn't say anything, and she was grateful. It was important to tell him the things she needed to while she had the chance.

  "I'm not naive. I know the problems facing our people, so I was prepared for hard times, although a war with the Lycans might have been more than I ever considered. Still, I know I could handle it."

  Branislava rubbed her face back and forth in the warm space between his neck and shoulder. He smelled masculine and strong and right then, when her fears began to resurface, she needed him.

  "Mage-shadowing is truly evil, Zev. The mage can access his victim at any time and force compliance. Often the victim is worn down over time, especially if their will is strong, as in the case of my nephew, Razvan, until they're weak and confused. The mage strikes them then and can force them to do things completely against everything they believe in."

  "I don't understand the difference between a splinter and a shadow."

  "Xavier used a splinter of himself in Razvan so that he was living inside of Razvan's body, but a shadow is an actual portal for the mage to travel through. The splinter can leave the body at any time and seek another host. Few leave a splinter of themselves behind for any length of time because there is a danger to the maker, should the splinter be found and destroyed. A shadow is a doorway to be accessed at any time. The risk of discovery is very small and one can build in all sorts of traps."

  Branislava slowly sat up. A small shiver went through her body when the action caused friction against her most sensitive spot. "I'd much rather stay here for the rest of the night with you, locked together like this, but we have to go back."

  He sighed and ran his hand down the back of her head, caressing the silky braid. "Fen is having trouble keeping Tatija
na from looking for you," he admitted. "She wanted to follow you and make certain you were all right."

  Branislava nodded her head several times, but made no move to get off his lap. If anything, she tightened the muscles surrounding him as if she could hold him to her forever. "I did leave rather abruptly. That poor man. Damon. I guess I shouldn't have ruined his coffee. I can't imagine what he thinks I found in him."

  "What did you find?"

  Her entire body shuddered. She pressed her lips together and looked around her as if she might spot an enemy spying on them. Very gently she used his shoulders to pull herself up, a little reluctantly, but she did it.

  "I'll tell you when we're back at the house. Not out here. Not in the open."

  Zev didn't press her. She looked scared. Whatever she had found in Damon's brain had been traumatizing enough to send her flying into the night. She needed to work it out herself and come to terms with it before she faced everyone.

  "I suppose this means you're going to get dressed." He changed the subject, using a sulky tone, hoping to use amusement to distance her mind from the trauma.

  "I think it best," she said, giving him a look from under her long lashes.

  "I don't. Maybe you could just stand there for a few minutes and let me admire you." He was already clean and fully clothed, back in his normal everyday ready-for-combat clothes.

  She smiled, shaking her head. "Your appetite is insatiable."

  "I'm a wolf, what did you expect?" He bared his teeth at her, looking hungry all over again. "My appetite for you is insatiable. It's my sincere desire to ensure that every time we make love you are so enraptured and captivated by my expertise that you can't wait for the next time, because, believe me mon chaton feroce, there will be many, many next times."

  Her laughter was genuine, and her bare breasts, rising and falling with her breath, drew his attention like a magnet. He reached out to cup her left breast and leaned forward to draw her exquisitely soft mound into the heat of his mouth. She laughed again and this time, tried to insert her hand between his mouth and her breast. He growled, refusing to relinquish his prize.

  "You are a very bad wolf," she declared sternly. "Let go."

  It's mine.