Dark Predator

wish it, but I will see to your happiness.”

I see into your heart, Zacarias. I know you will.

“The things I demand of you will not always be easy,” he warned.

I was aware of that the moment I realized you were not vampire and I had condemned you once again to this world. I took the time to see who you are. I know you are not a modern man and it worries you that I will one day rebel against the chains you put on me. Her fingers tightened around his and they locked gazes. If it is what you need—truly need—my obedience to your will in that moment, it will be the most important thing in the world to me. No matter how hard. I meant what I said when I asked you to stay. I serve you out of choice. I want your happiness.

He knew the truth of her words. She was prepared for his dominance, but she also realized things he did not. She had taken into account his feelings for her. He didn’t recognize those emotions ninety percent of the time, or acknowledge them, yet she knew they were there and that the feelings were growing each moment in her company.

He tried one more time to let her know what it would be like with him. “I will rarely leave your mind, Marguarita. You will never be alone, never have a thought I do not know. Every breath in your body, I will feel. I will know where you are, who you talk with. There will be nowhere that you can go that I will not be with you.”

She smiled at him and let go of his hand to lean forward and pat the neck of her horse. I am growing used to feeling your eyes on me and it’s becoming lonely when I am without you in my mind. I had not realized how truly alone one can be until I felt you inside me.

Zacarias took control of both horses, turning them back toward the stables. He wanted to be inside more than her mind. He wanted to see her body without the denim hugging her skin so lovingly. He needed the feel of her hands on him, the hot velvet of her mouth fitting tightly over him. He looked at her, knowing she could see the hunger in his smoldering gaze.

Her answer was that small, mysterious, all too sensual smile that teased his cock into hardness. He urged Thunder forward, needing Marguarita. She’d given him this night, a gift, and he wanted more. Maybe he would always want more.

Marguarita contemplated Zacarias’s thoughts as she quickly rubbed down the horses and led them into their stalls with a small mixture of hay and feed for thanks before turning to face her man. Excitement had been building in her from the moment she’d slipped the lacy underwear on right in front of him. It had been a daring thing to do and made her damp just thinking about it.

The erotic images in Zacarias’s head made that dampness grow into distinct wetness. He couldn’t fail to scent her welcoming call to him, but she took her time, letting the sexual tension stretch out right there in the stable while she washed her hands and dried them carefully before she turned to him.

How can I please you? She loved the sound of inquiry, that soft submissive questioning. She didn’t need a voice or words to indicate she wanted her hands and mouth on him, that she wanted his every desire met—by her.

“I want you to touch me. Explore my body as I explored yours.”

His voice was mesmerizing, the command in his tone so masculine. She didn’t understand why she felt the need to ease his burdens the way she did, but there was a drive in her to meet his every need. This man had battled alone for centuries. Entirely, utterly alone. He was wounded in places no one could see and in all his lonely life, he had only let one person close enough to see inside of him—her.

Her heart stuttered with pleasure, knowing he found solace in her body, that he found peace. She would do anything to bring him that and she would find her own enjoyment in every act, every compliance.

Just like that his clothes were gone and she was gasping at the size and shape of his heavy erection. He was so thick and long, much more so than she believed possible in a man. She found it impossible not to touch him. Her hands had a life of their own and really, after all, he’d given his permission.

Amusement slid into her mind. “More than permission, my beautiful lunatic, a command. Please me.”

She couldn’t have refused that teasing note, or the edge of hunger she felt pushing against her mind. Her fingers slid up his thigh, all the while she watched his face and kept her mind firmly planted in his. She wanted to feel his every reaction. She needed to observe him as well. The breath leaving his lungs in a rush was an aphrodisiac. She touched the fiery head, a thick round knob with a single pearl leaking. She used the tip of her finger to spread that lubrication over the head until it was glistening. His eyes burned with heat.

I trust that no one will come near. Even as she expressed her fear, she obeyed the pressure of his hands on her shoulders, sliding down to her knees.

She could feel his pleasure at the mere sight of her kneeling in front of him, hair spilling wildly down her back, her eyes bright, her lips slightly parted. “You are beautiful, Marguarita. I wish to see those wisps of lace covering your body. I thought about them on our ride together and how your body would look covered in those little scraps of lace.”

She had known and she’d helped to feed those fantasies with a few of her own. She half smiled, her attention on the heavy erection so close to her face. She wrapped her hand around the thickness and tilted her head toward him. How is it possible that you fit inside me? How could she possibly take all that into her mouth as she saw in his mind?

Her tank vanished as if it had never been and the cool night air teased her nipples through the black lace into twin peaks. She found herself kneeling on something soft and the air teased her bare butt as her jeans and boots went whichever way her tank had. She’d never felt sexier. He was so beautiful to her, his masculine body all hard, defined muscle.

“I just do. I was created for you.”

His hand slipped to the back of her head. She felt the breath trapped in his lungs as he urged her forward. She didn’t resist, but her hand leisurely explored the size and shape of him, enjoying the texture and heat. She leaned forward and took an experimental swipe with her tongue. He tasted of her favorite tea. He must have tasted it when he’d kissed her in the kitchen and he’d remembered.

Pleased and shocked that he’d taken the trouble to add to her pleasure, she was as honest as possible. I’ve never done this, Zacarias. I don’t want you to be disappointed. She was trembling as she licked around that broad silken head. The moment she felt him shudder, the pleasure that burst through him, it steadied her.

His fist bunched in her hair, and her mind firmly in his, she could see what he needed. The stroking lap of her tongue from base to head to get him wet. She fast was developing a taste for him and the exotic mixture of rich tea and Zacarias. Her mouth slipped over the wide head of him, her tongue swirling, the fit tight and hot.

Without warning he suddenly jerked her away from him by her hair. It hurt, her scalp tender, but it was more upsetting that he rejected her ministrations. His face was an expressionless mask, his eyes glittering almost red.

Ice poured in, glaciers of it, impenetrable barriers locking her out. She was rejected both physically and mentally. He had virtually thrown her away from him without telling her what she’d done wrong. Shocked and humiliated, she sank back on her heels, struggling not to cry.

13

Zacarias dragged Marguarita to her feet, clothing her quickly in the garments he preferred, a long skirt and blouse covering the temptation of her body. His fingers closed over her upper arms like twin vises and he forced her to look into his eyes.

“You will do exactly as I tell you, Marguarita. You are my greatest vulnerability, the biggest liability to me. There can be nothing of you within me. No trace. No scent. Nothing. Once I withdraw, you cannot reach for me, no matter how long, or what occurs.” He gave her a little shake. “Do you understand me?”

She shook her head, tears swimming. It couldn’t matter to him. He couldn’t look at those tears and ache inside. There could be only ice and stone, no traces of this woman who had the potential of getting thousands of