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 féroce. 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 hurting 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.