Dark Memory – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
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Petru leaned down to take possession of her mouth, kissing her lips with that same gentle fire that was just as arousing as his fierce, claiming kisses. He kissed her cheekbone and then nuzzled her silky hair away from her ear with his nose.

Warm breath sent little sparks of electricity arcing over her entire body. “Tet vigyázam, hän ku vigyáz sívamet és sielame.”

Safia had studied his language, and granted, she wasn’t the absolute best at it, but he had said, “I love you, keeper of my heart and soul.” Petru wasn’t the type of man to say things he didn’t mean, not even in the throes of passion.

He shifted his weight again, his arms bracing on either side of her as he began to move in that slow, unhurried glide that set rockets going off in her head. She swore the earth stood still. There was no one else, nothing else, but the two of them. Each scorching-hot surge sent lashes of flames crawling through her veins, building into a rolling wildfire in her core.

He continued to share with her how it felt for him, that silken web surrounding his cock with flickering flames building hotter and hotter. He didn’t want it to end. She could see he was holding on to his famous control by just a thread.

“More,” she whispered. “Give me all of you, Petru.”

“Too much for your first time, sívamet.” He was tender. Implacable. So Petru. Sometimes there was no moving him, even when he wanted the same thing she did.

The fire was building between them. She felt that coiling in her growing and growing until she was desperate for release. Still, he kept that steady pace, although she swore his shaft seemed to expand, pushing at the soft tissues of her sheath, forcing her to accept him. Streaks of pleasure rode on waves of flames, leaving her gasping for breath. She couldn’t tell if it was her pleasure or his, only that if he didn’t take them over the edge, she might not live through it.

“Look at me, Safia.”

His hips pulled back again as her eyes sought his. She was caught and held there by the intensity, that utter focus. He surged forward, one hand guiding her hips to follow his lead as he set a faster, harder pace. Her gaze clung to his, all that silver, drowning in him, while around her the world had long ago fallen away, leaving only the two of them and this magical time he shared with her.

“Know you want to be with me. That you want me for your family,” he whispered aloud. “Choose me, not because you’re my destined lifemate but because I’m your man.”

Looking him straight in the eyes, she gave him her answer. The absolute truth. “I would never choose another. Only you.”

“Come with me, Safia. We ride the sky together.”

He shifted minutely, his shaft reaching some secret place inside her that took her breath, robbed her of all speech. The fire inside her blasted into a million colorful stars behind her eyes, and she found herself free-falling.

She was simultaneously aware of Petru, the shudders of pleasure exploding down his spine and the way his cock expanded in her while her body gripped, clamped down like a vise and milked with silken muscles. The dual explosion between them was so perfect a release, flinging them together into another realm, that Safia found tears burning in her eyes.

She was staring straight into Petru’s eyes, and she could have sworn there was a hint of moisture in all that silver looking back at her. He lowered his body over hers, still connected to her, burying his face in her neck. She idly traced the tattoos drifting across his back, wondering why a man as heavy as he was wasn’t suffocating her. She wouldn’t have cared, but then it occurred to her, he was Carpathian, he could prevent that sensation. He had a way of protecting her often.

Lying out in the open, looking up at the stars, with Petru as her blanket, every movement reminding her they were joined together, felt beautiful, timeless and sensual. She wanted to stay there as long as they could, far away from the reality of their situation.

When she managed to get her breathing under control, she tried to figure out what the Carpathian letters said just by touch. Some of the words were the same.

“Olen wäkeva kuntankért,” he whispered against her pulse.

“Staying strong for our people,” she interpreted. Her fingers went to the next line. This was far more difficult, and she couldn’t quite get her arms around him to get every letter, but just moving was delicious, and in any case, he knew the lines by heart.

“Olen wäkeva pita belső kulymet.”

“Staying strong to keep the demon inside,” she said, her lips against his chest. “You are no demon, Petru. I know them, and you are not that.”


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