When she attempted to speak he held up his hand for silence. "You sugarcoated it for me. I've always done you the courtesy of telling you exactly what is going on. I've treated you with respect and I expected the same from you."
"That's not fair, Zev," she said, her tone low, her long lashes sweeping down to hide her expression.
He caught her chin in hard fingers and yanked her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I don't particularly give a damn about fair right now. This isn't a good time for us to have this discussion."
He had to draw in deep breaths to keep his wolf at bay. Every few words a low, warning growl escaped. Heat imaging banded his vision in yellows and reds. He was alpha and no one, least of all his mate, disobeyed or defied an alpha in his pack, not without consequences. And they sure as hell didn't make independent decisions, not after the betrayal of Gunnolf and Convel.
For a moment her eyes glittered with pure fire. He saw flames burning behind the glittering gems. That she could be angry as well just took his temper up another notch. He caught the nape of her neck and drew her to him, his mouth coming down hard on hers. He kissed her, pouring his fury and terror at her courage into his domination.
She didn't fight him, which was a good thing. That would have only triggered more aggression, and they both knew it. He kissed her again and again, holding her still, his touch a little brutal, his kiss demanding and forceful. Her mouth submitted to his, but her tongue dueled and fought, her nails digging into his skin as she melted into him.
Her body was fiery hot, as if all the passion in the world was pent up in her soft form. He used his claws to rip through her clothing, tearing the material from her body in strips until she was entirely naked in his arms. He didn't know if she got rid of his clothing or he had, and it didn't matter. He walked her backward, kissing her over and over, the same forceful, dominant kiss he couldn't stop.
He kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, as if they had this one night together and he needed her to survive--and he knew he did. His kiss was overpowering, smoldering with such fire that tiny electrical shocks sizzled through her bloodstream and raced from her breasts to her melting core.
Her back hit the wall of the cavern and he trapped her there, using his larger body, bent on possessing her. He cupped her breasts while he kissed and bit his way down to her nipples. She cried out, arching into his mouth when he drew her left breast into the scalding heat. He showed no mercy, lavishing attention on her with hands, teeth and tongue until she was panting with need, her breath coming in heaving gasps of desire.
It's too much. I'm going to go insane. I can barely stand.
His wolf was almost impossible to control and each time she made a small movement, as if she might pull away, he became more aggressive, rougher in his handling of her.
Then get on your knees. He growled the command, his fist in her hair, half pulling her down in front of him.
She went to her knees obediently and he barely had enough sense left in him to cushion the ground for her. His hand circled the girth of his bursting cock. He pulled her head back, using the long rope of hair and pushed into her mouth without preamble. Immediately her lips closed around the sensitive head and he flung back his head and roared.
Fire consumed him, a tight fist surrounding him, drawing him deeper and deeper. Her tongue lashed at him with flames and the edges of his vision went red. He held her silken hair with both hands and pushed deeper into her mouth, taking complete control of the rhythm and speed. He tried to be careful, but the sight of her, so beautiful, her breasts flushed and bouncing with his every thrust, his shaft disappearing in her mouth was almost too much. She was beautiful beyond anything he'd ever known.
Branislava let her passion wholly consume her. She knew she had pushed Zev into his wild, uncontrolled state, giving his wolf nearly free reign, but she loved it. She loved how close to the edge he was, how rough he was. She loved knowing she could tame that feral creature and draw him back to her with her body. With her love.
His body was hers, wholly hers and she played him like an instrument. She hummed softly as she suckled him, the vibration traveling up his shaft to that oh-so-sensitive head. She increased the heat and friction as his thrusts grew more urgent. His taste was not only intoxicating but addicting. She couldn't get enough of him.
He thought he was in control, but she knew she was. This man belonged to her. His body belonged to her. She reveled in her ability to bring him so much pleasure. She wanted to give him more and more. Already she was dripping, filling the air around them with her call to her mate. Hot cinnamon-spiced honey trickled down her thigh and she couldn't wait for him to lap it up.
His hips bucked again and again, barely giving her a chance to breathe. It didn't matter, nothing mattered to her but pleasing him. Driving him wild. Giving him everything he needed to get past what she'd committed to doing. If this was his way, his show of domination, she would gladly accept it every time.
It didn't have to make sense to anyone but her. She loved stroking her tongue along his shaft. She loved the feel, shape and taste of him. She craved his taste. She could use her Carpathian senses to breathe, taking him deeper until she was constricting him, strangling him, and he was swearing, gasping and burning with her.
Her mouth was red-hot. Her skin the same. That wealth of fire in her rose to match the fury in her wolf. She hadn't been angry, but she had wanted him with every breath of air she drew into her lungs. She'd deliberately let him see that fire, knowing in his state he would mistake her passion for anger.
She had wanted him just like this--a firestorm burning out of control. She needed to feel his fury in the way he withdrew and then thrust deep again. Sometimes he just stopped, holding himself deep, his hands fisting in her hair while growls and soft cursing reverberated through her mind. That only added to her heightened pleasure. Her body responded with more liquid heat, the tension coiling in her so tight she feared she would have an orgasm without him inside of her.
His shaft swelled more and she felt as if she had swallowed a burning torch. Then he was gripping her even tighter while he roared again, his seed spurting hard over and over. He withdrew swiftly, before she could catch her breath, pushing her backward so that she tumbled to the ground, sprawling out in front of him. He was on her fast, revealing the wolf that he was, latching on to his prey with a growl.
He lowered his head to her burning center, and she screamed with sheer pleasure as he lapped up her thigh and straight into her core, plunging his tongue deep like a weapon. He took her over, giving her no time to breathe or assimilate his attack. He devoured her, eating her as though she really was his prey, drawing out the spiced honey he craved, using both teeth and tongue. Sometimes his fingers plunged into her and other times he held her open to him while he lapped at her ferociously.
It was a claiming. Nothing less. A declaration. She understood that. She understood his need to have her submit to him. She craved his wolf, the wild untamed creature that matched her own fiery nature. She could see the marks on her body from his hands, his mouth and teeth and she delighted in every one.
His mouth drove her insane with his tongue swirling through her heat, seeking more honey, pushing her higher and higher toward her elusive orgasm. His face, that beautiful, masculine face was stamped with lust, a pure dominant bent on teaching his woman a lesson. She reveled in the way he chose to teach her.
Her body shuddered again and again and she couldn't stop the little mewling noises escaping as his tongue slid through her hot, slick folds. His soft growls reverberated through her sheath, adding to the pleasure rocketing through her. He sounded like a hungry animal devouring his dinner as he drew more and more cinnamon honey into his mouth. His eyes glowed, the pupils almost completely dilated.
Her head thrashed and her hips bucked against his mouth, but he simply held her down with his superior weight, his hands hard, framing her entrance and the treasure he sought there. He focused wholly on his meal, on dr
iving her up that cliff and holding her right there, perched on the precipice but unable to go over the edge.
Each time she was close and tried to force him to let her soar, he held back, blowing warm air over the fiery heat until she sobbed and begged him for release.
You don't deserve such a reward, mon chaton feroce.
She knew he would never leave her unsatisfied. Not ever. He was bursting with need himself, his shaft swollen and jerking. His hand already had begun to circle the girth casually as he glared at her. He sank back and turned his finger to indicate for her to get to her hands and knees and turn around.
Heart beating fast, she complied. She wanted him so badly. So much. She could barely think with the urgency of her need. He knelt behind her, taking his time while her body shivered and shook with such hunger she wasn't certain she'd ever be sated.
Without warning, he pushed her head down and caught her hips, pulling her back into him as he drove forward, entering her fast, almost brutally. Her body, already so sensitive and needy, caught fire, the flames streaking through her like a lightning storm, lashing her with a fury of pleasure so intense she wasn't certain she could survive the onslaught.
Don't stop. Never stop. She couldn't help herself. She could hear her gasping pleas and there was no way to stop her demanding cries. She needed the terrible gathering tension coiling tighter and tighter in her belly to dissolve, and only he could do that for her. Zev showed no signs of stopping, not even when she sobbed for release.
Zev controlled her hips, holding her absolutely still so she couldn't move, although she desperately wanted to. He thrust into her over and over like a piston, clenching his teeth against the fire streaking up his shaft and down to his balls. Even his thighs and belly were part of the rising inferno.
Each time he felt her close--too close--he backed off just enough to keep her from tipping over the edge. Her cries were music, his own personal symphony, adding to the firestorm building in his own body. He wanted her mindless with pleasure, stretched to the breaking point and maybe that little bit more so that each time they made love, he could take her to the next level. He wanted her to know who her lifemate was, the wolf, an animal capable of great love and loyalty, but also of intense passions and lust.
She chanted his name over and over, begging him to take out his fury on her body, wanting more, wanting to burn up in the flames, desperate to give herself to that ecstasy just out of her reach.
Tongues of fire raced up the walls of the caves. The ground grew hot, turning red beneath her. The droplets of moisture in the air glowed red orange, turning the small chamber into a furnace. Still he drove into her with wild abandonment, pushing her further.
Her body was hot to the touch, but nothing compared to the scorching heat surrounding his shaft. He felt the tension in her growing, coiling tighter and tighter. There was the beginning of desperation, a tiny shiver of fear that he might not stop before she went entirely insane. He stayed in her mind, careful not to push her too far.
She felt the terrible tension in her body rising without end, his relentless pounding pushing her higher and higher until she feared she would fly apart, without ever feeling the fiery explosion she so urgently desired. Her body had become a volcano of molten fire, an erotic fury, catching the night on fire, yet soaring was just out of reach.
She strained toward her goal, tossing her head, trying to guide him with her hips, but that didn't work--she couldn't move with his strength holding her still while he thrust into her again and again, a relentless, rough-driving invasion. The schism of fear snaking through her mind, threading through the frenzy of passion, that she might not survive this time, not with her mind intact, only enhanced the powerful sensations even more.
Zev. She whispered his name in her mind. Her talisman. Her anchor. The man who made her complete.
I'm here, mon chaton feroce. I'll catch you. Let yourself fall. He was there instantly, wrapping her up in love.
As if her body needed to hear his assurances, with that velvet over steel invader slamming deep, the volcano erupted, exploded, threatened to rip her apart as wave after fiery wave tore through her body from thighs to belly and up to her breasts. Flames licked over and through her, that beautiful fire she craved. She gave herself up to the fierce sensations, her sheath clamping down hard around his flesh, scorching hot, dragging him with her into the sky.
Once again she felt like a phoenix, the legendary bird, burning completely, cleansed in the fire and reborn. The scent of cinnamon filling the cavern added to her illusion. There was nothing left. She felt like a rag doll, worn out and unable to hold her own weight.
Zev kept her from collapsing forward, rolling her over into his arms, holding her close. She could feel his heart pounding, matching the rhythm of hers. Their breath came together in ragged gasps. He rocked her, brushing kisses over the top of her head, his arms strong around her, his chest a solid wall for her to lean into.
"I love you, Zev," she confessed. "Every part of you. Especially your wolf. The things you can do, the way you make me feel when we make love are absolutely amazing."
"I'm happy you're aware I'm making love to you. It's impossible to touch you and not have my wolf side go a little crazy." He smoothed his hand over her hair in a slow caress. "You make me a little crazy."
"Of course I know you're making love to me." She turned her head to look up at him over her shoulder. "Why would you think otherwise? You rocked the entire mountain."
He touched a thumbprint on her skin, a bite mark and two strawberries. "When my wolf is close, I get rough. I didn't try very hard to hold back this time."
She frowned at him. "I don't want you to hold back. I want all of you. You don't scare me." She paused, thinking it over. "Well, sometimes, for just a moment, not because I think you'll ever hurt me, but because the feeling is so amazing I'm afraid I can't stay sane through it. Never be afraid to love me how you need to. I can handle rough. I love rough."
He kissed his way down her neck. "Tell me whenever you're afraid, Branka. We can stop until you feel safe."
"That's part of the perfection for me," she admitted. "That delicious sense of being prey for your wolf. You have your wolf, and I have fire. So much, Zev. I burn so hot."
His chin nuzzled her shoulder. "I love your fire, Branka." There was a smile in his voice and his arms tightened around her.
"Sometimes I think from all those years locked in the ice, the fire just smoldered, sitting there, freezing, desperate to come out, and now, every time you touch me, it ignites the blaze." She sighed, snuggling closer into him. "There's so much heat in me, building and building and it starts spilling out and I can't contain it. Then you put your hands on me or your mouth and I just go up in flames."
He kissed the nape of her neck and bit down gently on her shoulder, sending chills through her body. She could stay there with him for all time, feeling safe and thoroughly loved.
Zev looked around the cave. It had been lit up with her fiery energy, but now it was dark and bleak again, no more red-orange glow, no red ground or flames crawling up the walls.
"I love you with all my heart and soul," he said. "I don't want to lose you."
"Zev." Branislava nuzzled his throat. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I can't imagine you asking me if it's okay for you to go hunting rogue packs."
"Don't try to compare the two," Zev warned, bristling all over again. "When I hunt rogue packs, you'll be right there with me. This is entirely different. I can't possibly protect you when you try to remove this shadow from Damon. Better that I just kill him and get it over with." He rose in one smooth, fluid motion, taking her with him, setting her on her feet. "Maybe that's what I'll do and the argument will be finished."
She lifted her hand to smooth the lines carved so deep in his face. "We're not arguing, Zev. I'm not arguing with you. I made a mistake. I should have talked it over with you before I opened my mouth. I'm afraid to face Xaviero. He always terrified me. The thought of him out there hur
ting other people is just as terrifying. Someone needs to stop him, and believe me, I wouldn't mind taking the easy out and backing off, letting someone else take the lead against him."
She waved her hands to clean and clothe herself. Zev tried not to smile. She was in a different outfit from the one he'd shredded. He followed her lead, refreshing his appearance.
"So you'll tell the others you won't be taking the shadow out of Damon."
"If that's what you want me to do," she said, her gaze on his expressionless face. It was impossible to read him. "Zev, I want you happy. I want to please you. I don't have any experience here, and you make it difficult sometimes. Do you really think I want to get anywhere near Xaviero?"
"Come here," Zev pointed to the spot directly in front of him.
His voice turned her heart over. So much love turning his usual commanding tone to a velvet caress. Branislava moved without hesitation, stopping exactly where he'd indicated. Zev tipped her face up, his hands sliding along the curve of her cheeks and along her jaw, to her neck, tilting her face to his. His mouth came down on hers, not with his fury, but with such tenderness she felt the burn of tears behind her eyes.
His kiss was gentle, almost reverent. She felt love pouring into her mouth, down her throat, spreading through her body so that there wasn't a single cell that wasn't saturated with the intensity of his emotion. When he lifted his head, she touched her lips with wonder.
"I can't believe you could do that," she whispered.
"I can't believe a woman like you even exists, let alone that I have the privilege of her belonging to me. I am a wolf, Branka. More, I've been an alpha almost from the day I was born. I've always been in the position of leadership. I expect that deference and when I don't get it, the alpha wolf reacts in the way it would to keep the pack together. I can't do anything about it. That's my makeup. That's who I am."
"I know Zev," she replied. "I accept that."
He stroked his fingers down her cheek, touching her with the same tenderness that had been so prevalent in his kiss. "I never thought there would be a woman for me. Not in all the long years. I've always known I had little tolerance for defiance from a pack member, so I knew I'd be worse with my mate."