Darkest Fire (9 page)
Between her legs, a deep throbbing need had been set off, and with every excruciating second he kissed her, that wanting doubled. She told him how much she ached for him the only way she could. Fingers curling into his hair at the nape. Tugging desperately. Soft sighs filling their joined mouths. Tongue dancing with his.
She heard a soft thump a split second before he hauled her into his arms. The book. Dropped on the floor.
The kiss had ended, but something much better was about to begin. She shuddered with expectation as he carried her up the stairs.
8
H
e barely set her on her feet before he gave her a hungry look and dragged her against him for another kiss. It wasn’t a tender meetingh of mouths or gentle exchange of breath, but a hard possession, full of raw emotion. Her head spun. Her heart lurched in her chest, then settled into a widly racing pace that made her breathles. She curled her fingers around starched cotton and held on, as he unleashed his fury on her mouth.
e barely set her on her feet before he gave her a hungry look and dragged her against him for another kiss. It wasn’t a tender meetingh of mouths or gentle exchange of breath, but a hard possession, full of raw emotion. Her head spun. Her heart lurched in her chest, then settled into a widly racing pace that made her breathles. She curled her fingers around starched cotton and held on, as he unleashed his fury on her mouth.
If she’d hoped for a slow seduction, she knew she wouldn’t receive it. Instead, it seemed she would be getting something much more primal. He kissed her like a man should. He touched her like a man should.
She found herself being half carried, half dragged across her bedroom, only to be pinned against the wall. He held her there, motionless, as he ripped her shirt off. Her bra was next, torn off her body and tossed away, and she was bare and vulnerable and trembling all over.
This wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced, and it certainly wasn’t what she’d expected, but she wasn’t afraid or shocked. Quite the opposite. She liked the way he was taking command of her body while acting like he was just a little out of control.
He laid a hand over one of her breasts, and she dragged in a shuddering gasp and arched her back, pushing her breast into his palm. Her nipple hardened, the peak becoming supersensitive. His palm was a little rough, the skin grazing over the turgid tip, and her eyelids fluttered and fell, closing her into a world of swirling colors and building need.
She reached for him, but he knocked her hands away, bent down, and laved one nipple with his tongue while he rolled the other one between his finger and thumb. She hovered in some magical place, between heaven and hell. She didn’t want him to stop and yet she did. A warm, wet, pulsing need was throbbing between her legs, and she longed to be touched there. No, she needed more than that. She needed him to drive his cock into her and take her until she was sweaty and writhing and quaking.
“Drako,” she whispered. “Oh, God.”
He lurched back so fast, he stumbled. “I’m sorry.” His face was tinted a deep scarlet and his eyes were wild.
“No. Don’t apologize.”
“I should be gentle. You deserve better than this.” He looked down at the torn remains of her shirt, scooped them up, and balled them into his fist. “I’ll replace your clothes.”
“It’s okay.” She reached for him again, but once more, he flinched, jerking just out of her reach. Why wouldn’t he let her touch him? What was the problem?
He set her shirt on the dresser and turned to face her, his gaze fixed on some point beyond her.
Not knowing what to do next, she quietly stripped off the rest of her clothes and slid under the covers. “Drako.”
He gave his head a little shake, as if he was trying to wake himself up. He combed his fingers through his hair, then, expression unreadable, shrugged out of his shirt.
That was one glorious chest.
Next, he unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his ankles, kicked them off.
He wore boxer briefs. And that was one mighty promising bulge front and center.
The underwear was next. He didn’t hesitate, just pushed them down his muscular legs and kicked them away. Of course, with a body that perfect, toned and sculpted and beautiful, he had no reason to hesitate.
She tried not to think about the other women who had seen him unclothed, or would see him in the future. For now, the next hour or so, he was hers. And she was his. And nobody else mattered.
What the hell am I doing? This isn’t one of your slaves, who expect it rough. She’s your wife, you fuckup.
Did he even know how to be with a woman without getting rough?
Drako had to admit, playing with his hot little submissive while denying his own pleasure had done the job. He was hot and tight all over. His balls felt like lead. His cock was so hard he could bust concrete with it. And his blood was searing every cell in his body. He needed release and he wanted this woman, his wife, so badly his teeth ached from his clenched jaw. Instead of having to force himself to carry out an act he was sure he would dread, he was struggling to hold it together long enough to give her a little pleasure.
Breathe, asshole. You’re going to scare her right out of that bed, out of your house. Then what?
He took a few slow, deep breaths. They didn’t help much, but the burning in his blood eased a fraction of a degree. In some respect, this was no different than a scene with a new submissive. It was his responsibility to serve her needs first. She needed patience, tenderness, gentle kisses, and no matter how fucking bad his balls hurt, he was going to give her that.
One step at a time.
He hesitated at the side of the bed for a heartbeat, or two, or three, then peeled the covers back and climbed in, throwing them over himself.
Rin tensed.
Drako was warm. And the hair on his leg tickled when his calf grazed against hers. She settled on her back as he rolled onto his side and propped his head on a fist, his bent arm displaying a flexed bicep to full advantage. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Of you? No. There’s no reason to be.”
He cupped her cheek and rolled toward her, staring into her eyes so deeply she felt a little vulnerable and uneasy. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and kissed her again.
This time, it was like she was kissing a different man.
His mouth was soft, his touches fleeting, almost too timid. It tickled, but at the same time, those tickles made her squirm. Shivers made the skin of her arms prickle.
They kissed for a while, like two teenagers, hands shyly exploring each other’s shoulders, arms. He didn’t touch her breasts again, and that made the aching between her legs even more pronounced. He cupped her cheeks, he touched her neck, he caressed her arms. She did the same. It went on so long, she began to wonder if he intended things to go any further. She tried to relax and enjoy, appreciate the simple pleasure of their breaths blended, bodies pressed together, tongues exploring the decadent flavor of each other’s mouths. She’d forgotten how good this felt and how frustrating it could be.
When he turned her head and nipped on her earlobe, she moaned. The warmth between her legs was a pounding ache now, and she needed something there, pressing against her flesh.
“I can’t . . .” she mumbled as she arched her neck to give him access to the most tender spot, just below her ear.
He shifted off her, exactly what she didn’t want, and caught her chin in his fingers, pulling it down. When she opened her eyes, she found his gaze troubled, full of uncertainty.
“No, don’t stop.” She curled her fingers around his wrist and pulled, coaxing his hand down lower, lower still. She left it on her breast and once again, arched her spine, pressing the burning flesh into his palm.
His nostrils flared a tiny bit, enough to barely be noticed. A wash of pink tinted his cheeks. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“I don’t know what you define as ‘rushing,’ but I can tell you this—I was ready after the first kiss.” To show him exactly how hot and wet he’d made her, she took his hand and placed it between her thighs.
The pressure was oh so good. She actually groaned, parted her legs a little wider, and prayed he wouldn’t make her wait another second.
The pink stain on his skin darkened a few shades.
He pulled the covers off her, the sensation of the slick cotton dragging across her burning skin only making things worse. She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man so badly. It was almost bad enough to make her weep. Or beg. Or throw him onto his back and climb on top of him.
What was he waiting for? Did he dread it so much he was trying to put it off? No hot-blooded male would do that.
When the covers had finally been removed completely, he sat up and eased her legs apart. His teeth bit into his lower lip.
She locked her jaw and stared at his face, watching, breathless, as his eyes took in the sight of her nude body. Her stomach was contracting, making her hips rock forward and back, the motion timed to the thrumming pulse beating through her body.
Seeing him look at her, at all of her, was more powerful than any touch, any stroke. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t making good on the dark promise she saw in those eyes. This was too much. She wasn’t going to lie there and wait, beg. She wasn’t one of his playthings.
She opened her legs wide and, eyes locked on his, parted her labia and touched her clit. The first stroke produced a blade of stabbing, almost unbearable heat. It knocked the air out of her lungs and left her gasping and shaking.
The muscle in his jaw ticced. His mouth thinned. He knocked her hand away, shoved her legs even wider apart, and bent over her pussy.
She held her breath.
His tongue found her clit and she saw stars. He used just the right pressure, the right motion, and the right pace. She raced to the verge of climax and tumbled over the edge. An electric charge buzzed through every single cell in her body and then she quaked and spasmed and locked her knees against the sides of his head. When the sensation dulled, she realized she’d grabbed two fists full of silky hair. She unfurled her fingers and threw her hands up, over her head.
He stopped tormenting her hypersensitive bud, but, thank God, he didn’t leave her. She had come. Hard. But she still was missing something, and marriage of convenience or not, she’d been anticipating this for days, since the first time he’d touched her.
When he lay next to her, she thought he might be finished for the night. But as she was rolling onto her side to face him, he eased her onto the opposite side, took her hips in his hands, and entered her from behind. She arched her spine to change the angle of penetration and grabbed onto the sheet to try to hold her position.
He fucked her slowly, his thick cock sliding all the way in and then dragging almost all the way out. The friction was absolutely delicious and, coupled with her own hand on her clit, produced wave upon wave of pure ecstasy.
She’d never had sex in this position. It was relaxing, comfortable, and yet at the same time a little frustrating, much like the entire experience with her new husband was proving to be. It was unbelievably wonderful finally having a hard cock inside her, and when she clenched her inner walls around him, she quivered. But it also left her mildly frustrated that she couldn’t take him deeper and she couldn’t watch him as he drove them both stroke after stroke toward ecstasy.
He was a beautiful man; why wouldn’t she want to see him?
She lifted her outer leg up and rolled slightly back, so she could hook her bent knee over his leg. He grabbed her inner thigh and held it up, pulling it toward her shoulder. Yes, that was better. Then, releasing her leg, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and held her still. Even better yet. Meeting the pace of his thrusts, she stroked her clit, round circles, until her muscles were all tight again and she was trembling with the need to climax.
Was he close? His thrusts were becoming jerky, his hold on her tighter, his breath sharp little puffs against her shoulder. She was so close. Hot. Tight. Shaking all over. She could feel that tingling electrical current building stronger, stronger.
He growled and began pounding into her pussy in a frenzy, and that was all it took. Over she tumbled, into the abyss. Caught up in a torrent of sensation, she held onto whatever she could reach and let herself go. Wave upon wave of pleasure pulsed through her, washed over her. So good. So right. She didn’t want it to end. Not ever. But the spasms slowly eased to twitches, then to tingles.
With a little grunt, he withdrew from her and flopped onto his back. Having lost the support of his body, she rolled onto her back too. Next to her husband and still flying high on endorphins, she waited for her racing heartbeat to slow and her breathing to regulate. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was smiling. Not at anyone or anything. Just because.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Sure. I’m fine. Better than fine.”
He didn’t say anything else.
It got quiet and she thought he’d fallen asleep. But a little while later, before she’d drifted off, he slid out of bed and crept out of the room.
9
“W
ilkerson’s in the hospital.”
ilkerson’s in the hospital.”
Talen’s announcement was enough to immediately yank Drako out of his thoughts. He realized, as he jerked his head up, that he’d been staring at his desk for who-knows-how-long. He’d been thinking about Rin, about last night. Again. He’d been doing that all morning.
This had to stop.
Drako waved his brother into his office. “What happened?”
Talen, followed by Malek, rushed into the room and plunked down into the closest chair after dragging it up to the desk. “We don’t know yet. He’s still in the E.R. The doctor’s running some tests. Dobbs called me to let me know. He’s with him now. Said he’d call as soon as he knew something.”
Drako’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID. Dobbs. He hit the speakerphone. “Dobbs?”
“Yeah. I’m here.”
Talen leaned closer to the phone. “I’m here too. And Malek. What’s up?”
“Don’t know much yet,” Dobbs said. “We went to the old Chimera place, did a little looking around. That building’s big, so we split up. I went one way, Wilkerson the other. An hour or two later, I went to find him, but he was gone.”
“Why didn’t you call us?” Talen asked.
“I was about to when I got a call from Wilkerson. Or rather, his phone. It was a nurse calling from the hospital, looking for a family member to answer some questions about his medical history. I headed right over to the hospital, learned someone had dropped Wilkerson off and left. Don’t know who it was.”
Drako asked, “What’s Wilkerson saying?”
“Nothing. He’s out of it.”
Talen shook his head. “Okay, let us know what happens.”
“Will do.”
Drako’s finger hovered over the button, but he didn’t end the call yet. “Before you go, Dobbs, did you find anything?”
“Nothing. But it would take a lot longer than a couple of hours to go through that place, inch by inch.”
“And you’re feeling okay?” Drako asked, wondering if they’d been exposed to some kind of poison while searching. Considering the state of the place, it was a distinct possibility.
“I’m fine.”
“All right.” Talen, looking at Drako, shrugged. “Let us know if you hear anything, or if Wilkerson’s condition changes.”
“Will do.”
The call ended, and Drako, Talen, and Malek gave each other a look.
“There was something on the news last night,” Malek mentioned. “Some kind of mysterious illness.”
“I heard something about that.” Drako nodded, recalling what little of the broadcast he’d watched last night. “I missed the report. Did you catch it?”
“No.” Malek shook his head. “But I can check the station’s Web site. I’m sure there’ll be a report.”
“Good.” Drako pointed at Talen. “T, pull the surveillance tapes. See if you can find anything suspicious.”
“Okay.” Talen’s expression turned grim. “Do you think Wilkerson’s illness is somehow related to his work with us?”
“Maybe. But most likely it isn’t. Dobbs is fine, but then again, he was searching a different part of the building. We need to check it out thoroughly, just in case.” Drako’s gut told him it might be. “Could be he came into contact with something in the warehouse, rat poison, or maybe some kind of industrial solvent. I don’t want any more men in there until we know if it’s safe.”
His brothers both stood, nodded, and left. And Drako, feeling like he was no closer to finding Oram, or, more important, anticipating his next move, went back to Oram’s file, hoping something would click this time. The man had something going for him that Drako lacked, and it was pissing him off. That something: the kind of genius that teetered on the line between intelligence and insanity. If Drako couldn’t outsmart him, he’d have to find another way to stop him.
But what way would that be?
Someone was here. Drako?
Lounging on the couch in the den, her sister next to her, Rin felt her heart do a little pitter and then a little patter.
Lei’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Breathing a little faster than normal, Rin tried to pretend she was reading. In truth, she couldn’t tell anyone what had happened the last three or four pages.
She loved reading, but today she’d been living in the world between her ears long enough. For hours upon hours. It didn’t help that it had rained all day long. This kind of steady rain was rare at this time of the year when showers generally blew in and out in a matter of hours, if not minutes. Thus she and her sister had been forced to stay indoors.
Outside of a few television shows, she wasn’t much of a TV watcher. She swam like a rock. She had no hobbies. Didn’t sew, knit, crochet, paint, scrapbook, or make jewelry. Oddly, after only one day, she missed having a job, a reason for waking up, taking a shower, and putting on makeup in the morning. From the look of it, so did Lei.
She had to talk to Drako. Until they had their first child, she would need to do something to make the time pass, or Lei was right, she was going to deeply regret her decision. The house was absolutely spotless. There hadn’t even been anything to clean.
This was no way to live.
Heavy footsteps approached at a casual pace. She counted each one until he was there, her husband, looking more gorgeous than last night—how was that possible?
“Hi,” she greeted him, not trying to disguise the sparkles in her eyes.
Lei stood. “I think I’m going to jump in the shower.”
Drako slid into a chair, swung one thick arm over the back, and propped one ankle on top of the opposite knee. He looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable and noticeably lacking the sexy glimmer of last night.
She was sort of relieved. At least she would have a chance to talk to him about her concerns without being distracted.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked.
“Sure. . . .”
“But?”
She smiled. “You’re very perceptive.”
“It’s not hard to be with you. You’re very transparent.”
Her face warmed. She fiddled with the pages of the book, now lying in her lap. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It depends. For me, it’s a good thing.” After a beat, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” She set the book aside and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “The house is great. The groceries arrived this morning, so we had plenty to eat.”
“But?”
“But . . . don’t take this wrong, I’m not used to living like this. I had nothing to accomplish today, no job, no deadlines, no goals. I guess I didn’t expect it to be like this—you leaving home before dawn and not returning until late in the evening. . . .” She checked the clock. It was after eight. “Me sitting around doing nothing.”
He didn’t respond right away. “What do you want?”
“You think I’m a whiner. Already. Don’t you?”
“No.”
Everything—face, voice, body language—reinforced Drako’s words. Still, she couldn’t help explaining herself. “I suppose some women would love to live like this. Everything is done for me. The house is cleaned. The groceries delivered. The phone answered. The grass cut. The flowers watered. All I have to do is sleep, eat, and make myself pretty.”
“So tell me what you want.”
“I was thinking I could volunteer, do some charity work. Or get a part-time job. Or take a class.”
“You can do any or all of those things. I won’t stop you.” He leaned forward too, mirroring her position. “I’ll make sure you have a set of car keys tomorrow morning. I will ask, however, that you stay away from Magic Touch and places like it.”
“Oh, absolutely. Believe me, I hated working there. I wouldn’t dream of going back.”
“Very good.”
She smiled, relieved he seemed to understand. At the same time, she was semi-excited about all the possibilities she could explore. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Um-hm.” When she didn’t say anything else right away, he picked up a newspaper lying on the coffee table and sat back to read.
She talked to the front page of the business section. “I think I’ll check into volunteering first. I’ve never been in a position such as this, where I didn’t need to make money. Quite the opposite, since I was fifteen, I’ve been working and needing every penny I earned.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything, not that she needed him to. She wasn’t talking about volunteering to impress him, to try to make herself look better in his eyes. She didn’t need to.
Or did she?
He folded the paper and returned it to the table, then scooped up the television remote and hit the power button. She studied him as he stared at the enormous high-definition screen, channel surfing in silence. Outside of an intimate knowledge of the glories hidden behind his well-fitting clothes, she knew so little about the man who had just last night explored every inch of her body.
“What kind of work do you do?” she asked, the question popping up out of nowhere.
“I design jewelry.”
Her gaze slid to her hand first, to the beautiful ring on her finger. Then it slipped to his hands, and memories of last night—more specifically, the way he had touched her—flooded her mind. In the midst of that out-of-this-world experience, she’d noticed how deft and clever his fingers had been.
A jeweler.
“Did you make my ring?”
“Sure did.”
She shifted the ring, watching the way the light played in the stone’s depth. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Thank you.” His smile was genuine, sweet. “I didn’t tell you before. The center stone is a blue diamond. They’re fairly rare. I like using rare, fancy-colored diamonds in my work.”
“It’s absolutely amazing. Will you show me more of your work sometime?” she asked.
“Yes.” He finally looked at her, but she wasn’t able to read him. Tonight, everything was different than last night, the energy between them, his body language, the way he looked at her. She wondered why. “I will. Soon.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
He gave her another smile, then turned his attention back to the television screen. “What types of programs do you like to watch?”
She scooted back on the couch and, turning sideways, kicked her feet up on the cushions, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I don’t watch much TV. What about you?”
“I don’t either.” He started going through the program guide. “Hmmm, how about a movie? Do you like movies?”
“Sometimes. When I’m in the mood.”
He glanced at her. “You aren’t in the mood now?”
She shrugged. “I’d rather talk, get to know you.”
He hit the power button and the screen went dark. His gaze turned to her again, but this time his expression wasn’t so impossible to read. His brows were furrowed, his mouth pulled taut, the muscle along his jaw tight. “Do I need to worry?”
Was he upset? “About what?” she asked.
“Have you forgotten the terms of our agreement?”
“No, of course I haven’t.” She grabbed the book she’d been reading and set it in her lap, flipping open the cover. “I was just trying to get to know you a little bit better.”
“No emotional entanglements.” He enunciated every word. Every syllable. It wasn’t necessary.
“No worries, Drako.” Feeling jittery and uneasy, she turned to face him fully, dropping her feet back to the floor. “I remember every detail of our agreement—at least, I’m pretty sure I do. I’m not looking for love. Or even affection. But you never said we had to remain strangers. In fact, as I recall you said we could become friends.”
“Of course I did.” He chewed his lip.
Now, on top of everything else, she was frustrated. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and shoved her fingers through the waves. “This is awkward, Drako. Uncomfortable. For both of us. Don’t you agree it would be better if we became friends sooner rather than later . . . at least?”
“At least?”
Whoops, he caught that slipup quickly enough.
She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, using those few seconds to plan what she would say next. Clearly, she had to watch every word, at least when they were talking about their marriage. “I’m not going to renege on our agreement.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
She stood, went to the window, and leaned a shoulder against the cool glass. Once again, she was staring out into the dark world beyond, just like last night. “Why is it being in your bed feels so good, so natural and easy, but being in any other room with you feels so strained, awkward?”
“I don’t know. But I won’t stay if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m not trying to make things harder on you. I swear it.”
Something inside her pinched, and she felt herself stiffen a little. She turned around, catching him striding toward the kitchen. “No. Please. Don’t go.” When he hesitated, she added, “I’ll eventually get used to this. It’s a lot to adjust to all at once. A new marriage, a new home, a new lifestyle. . . .”
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