Witch Fire (20 page)

Mira felt heavy arousal fill her at his command. Her breath caught in her throat.

He eased back, looking at her meaningfully with heavy-lidded eyes. “Show me how you make yourself come when you're all alone.”

A moment of shyness made her hesitate. Then, holding his gaze, she reached up and cupped her breast. He watched avidly as she teased her own nipple erect. She brushed the pads of her fingers over it again and again. It sent little ripples of pleasure through her body and made her cream between her thighs. Mira moved her hips restlessly, imagining Jack's cock buried deep inside her, remembering the commanding way he'd made love to her the night before.

Having her body completely bound for his every wish, every touch, had been a serious turn-on. The memory was still a turn-on. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, closed her eyes, and groaned. Against her leg, she felt his cock grow hard.

“That's it, baby,” he whispered.

Mira eased her other hand down over her abdomen, threading through the hair covering her mons, then arched her back and spread her thighs. Her sex was swollen with arousal and well-loved by Jack. She stroked her clit until it bloomed beneath her touch, becoming sensitive and needful of a climax, then eased her middle finger deep into her heat.

Her muscles felt silken and hot. She squeezed them a little so she could feel what Jack felt around his cock. Adding a second finger, she eased them in and out of her sex, imagining it was Jack who fucked her.

Jack's eyes were dark and trained on her. It obviously really excited him to watch her touch herself. Mira closed her eyes and gave herself over to it. Biting her lower lip and closing her eyes, she worked her sex and brought herself closer and closer to climax.

He knelt at her side and leaned over her, cupped her nape and kissed her roughly, while massaging her breast and gently pinching her nipple with his free hand.

Mira moaned, feeling the first serious ripples of an impending climax. She dug her heels into the mattress and rocked her hips back and forth. She looked wanton with her thighs spread and her own hand between them. That fact only excited her more.

“You're so pretty, Mira. So sexy,” he murmured as he stroked his hand down her abdomen. “Are you going to come?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering open to see him staring down at her. He covered her hand between her thighs with his own, pressing down a little so that the motion of her rocking hips rubbed her clit against her palm.

Mira cried out as her climax exploded through her body. The muscles of her sex pulsed around her penetrating fingers as pleasure racked her body.

“There you go, baby,” he murmured. “That's it.”

Mira panted as the last of her climax faded away. She opened her eyes to find a very aroused Jack staring down at her. “Up, on your knees,” he said roughly. “Hold onto the headboard. Face the wall.”

His terse commands, issued in that raspy voice, made her sex feel achy with desire once more. All she wanted was his cock there. She got up, feeling how wet she was between her thighs, and knelt on the mattress, facing the wall.

He put her wrists back into the cuffs and her fingers found purchase around the rope attached to the eyebolt.

Jack tossed the pillows to the floor and let his hands roam her body. He cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers until Mira gasped. He braced his chest to her back and kissed her shoulders, easing a hand between her thighs to massage her sensitive clit. She whimpered.

“Does that feel good?” he purred into her ear.

“Yes.”

“Part your thighs and I'll make it feel even better.”

She parted them, and, groaning, he slid his cock up into her sex from behind. She gasped at the sudden, overwhelming sensation of having all that width and length stretching her muscles.

Mira turned her head to glimpse his body against hers and caught their reflection to her right. A full-length mirror stood in the corner of the room. She hadn't noticed it the night before, maybe because it had been dark. Now it was morning and the angle showed them perfectly—Jack's big, muscular body cupping hers, the consumed, aroused look on his face as his hands explored her body.

Her own expression was slack, her eyes wide and dark, her hair mussed, her body bound to Jack's bed. For a moment, she could hardly recognize that sexual creature as herself.

He moved her hair to one side, gripped the headboard, and braced his other arm around her abdomen.

Then he began to thrust.

The reflection showed the leverage he used to push up into her body. The muscles of his thighs and buttocks rippled with every upward stroke into her body. Pleasure coursed through her at the friction of his cock tunneling in and out of her sex, stretching her and filling her to the limit.

Jack nipped at her neck and let the hand on her abdomen dip to rub her clit. “You feel good, Mira,” he murmured. “So hot, so sticky sweet.”

She watched his hand move between her thighs in the mirror's reflection as he stroked the pad of his finger over her clit. He increased the tempo of his thrusts—faster, harder. Sensation flowed through her, overwhelmed her.

“Jack!” she cried as her body found itself caught in another amazing release. She held onto the rope with everything she had.

Jack growled something low, still pounding up inside her even as her climax drove all thought from her mind. It stripped her, laid her bare, then filled her with only Jack and what he did to her.

He came as well, thrusting deep into her and groaning.

Both panting, both sweating, he released her wrists and they collapsed onto the mattress.

“Oh, Jack,” Mira gasped. She was sticky wet between her thighs and she ached everywhere. Still, she'd never felt better or more satisfied in her life. Her body still tingled with the memory of his hands on her and his cock inside her.

Jack pulled her to him and covered her body with his, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, and her throat.

They stayed that way, collapsed in an exhausted heap and tangled together for a while. Jack finally pulled the blankets over them and they cuddled beneath them, drowsing in and out of sleep.

“Mmm, this was a nice morning,” Mira murmured against the curve of his throat.

His arms tightened around her. “More than nice.” His voice rumbled through his chest, making her feel safe and comfortable.

“I suppose we should think about leaving the room at some point.”

He took a long moment to answer. “Yeah, sure. I'll take that under advisement in an hour or two.”

Mira laughed softly, but someone pounding on the door cut her off. “Who's that?”

Jack glanced at the clock on his night table. Mira followed his gaze. It was almost 10
A.M.

He slid off the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers. “Stay there. I'll be back,” he said as he walked out the door, pushing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair to tame it.

J
ACK OPENED THE DOOR TO FIND
T
HOMAS ON THE
other side.

“Went by her room this morning,” Thomas greeted him in a clipped tone. They both knew who he meant. “She's here, isn't she?”

Jack just nodded.

Last night had been another nail in his coffin. Jack had tried to stay away from her, but he simply couldn't say no. The scent of her had intoxicated him, and the spill of moonlight over her skin had tempted him and that had been it. He had zero self-control when it came to her.

He wanted Mira so much it made him ache. Wanted her not only in the carnal sense, but the long-term one. What was it people said about human nature? People always wanted what they couldn't have. Except Jack wanted Mira because he loved her, not because he couldn't have her. He knew that now.

He loved her intelligence, her insecurities and her strength, her compassion and desire not to hurt others even when they meant her harm. He loved the sound of her laughter and the look she got in her eyes and on her face when she was aroused.

Jack loved Mira, every aspect of her.

Thomas took a moment to answer. “You know I have no problem with you, Jack,” he spoke softly so Mira couldn't hear them in the other room. “If it wasn't for your history and how it intersects with hers, I'd be happy you were together. I'm just trying to protect her.”

“I know that, Thomas. I care about her, too. I wish I could make you see that.”

“Perhaps it's time to tell her who you are.”

“I thought you wanted me to wait until this was over.”

“I do. I still think you're the best man to be protecting her from Crane, and telling her who you are interferes with that.” He paused and then growled, “I just wish you'd stop sleeping with her. Is that so hard?”

It was that hard. What Jack couldn't say was that it wasn't just about sleeping with Mira. It wasn't just about sex. It was about connecting with her in the one way he could, the one way he knew how. It was about joining with her, becoming a part of her, even if it was only for a short time.

Jack remembered the night before, how he'd glimpsed the faint red marks on her wrists and legs made by the rope and cuffs before the candles had gone out. He'd felt a flash of pure satisfaction in that one moment of having marked Mira. Every primal male cell in his body had rejoiced in that one split second of knowing that Mira was his and his alone. His to love. His to cherish, protect, and adore.

No, it was hardly just about the sex.

But Jack couldn't voice any of those thoughts to Thomas. Instead they stared at each other for a long moment in silent challenge.

It was Thomas who finally glanced away. “Get dressed. Get Mira dressed. Both of you come to my office,” he bit off in a voice made of steel. “I have news.” He turned on his heel and strode away.

Jack closed the door and made his way back into the bedroom. Mira lay tangled in the sheets, her long hair spread over his pillows and one slim calf and foot peeking from under the blankets. She had her eyes closed. No wonder. They'd really made a night—and morning—of it.

He wanted to walk over and kiss her awake. Wanted to crawl back into bed, pull her into his arms and hold her. He wanted to spend the whole day in bed with her, order something up from the kitchen when they were hungry, but otherwise spend all their time immersed in each other.

Cold reality slapped him in the face.
Fuck.
He kept making this situation worse.

Thomas wanted him to wait until all this was over before he revealed that he was actually Crane's son. Jack wanted to never tell her. He never wanted to see that inevitable look of hatred in her eyes when she learned of his parentage and discovered that he watched her mother die right in front of him…and had let it happen.

“Mira,” he said gruffly.

Her eyes drifted open.

“That was Thomas. We're supposed to meet him in his office. He's got something to tell us.”

She pushed the blankets away and stood, cloaked in nothing more than morning sunlight. She raked a hand through her long, loose hair. Tight little pink nipples peeked from where the dark skeins lay tumbled over her shoulders. The curve of her waist and hip begged for his lips and tongue.

His cock started to rise.
Down boy.
He turned away and busied himself with finding clothing.

“I need to go back to my room. All I have here is my nightgown and bathrobe,” she said.

He turned toward her, a pair of jeans in his hands. “That's probably for the best. If you stay here any longer, I'm going to push you back down onto the bed and keep you there all day.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Considering Thomas's mood?
Yes
.”

She laughed and slipped her nightgown over her head. “I've noticed he can be a bit prickly sometimes.
Moody
is perhaps a better word to use.” She grabbed her bathrobe and breezed past him. “I'll meet you down there.”

He grabbed her around the waist and dragged her against his chest for a final kiss, wanting the taste of her in his mouth awhile longer.

They broke the kiss, and she stayed there for a moment with her lips parted and her eyes half closed. “Mmmm,” she sighed and bit her lower lip. “Do we really care if Thomas is a little upset?”

“Go.” He slapped her ass playfully.

She went, throwing one last glowing smile over her shoulder at him.

Hell, he loved her.

And he was going to lose her soon. He felt it.

M
IRA HURRIED BACK TO HER ROOM, NODDING AND
smiling at people as she passed them in the hallway like it wasn't at all odd that she should be walking around the corridors in her nightgown and bathrobe this late in the morning.

She ached in intimate places, places that hadn't received much attention since she'd left Jack's Minneapolis apartment. Jack had loved her well. It made her shiver just to remember it. Made her want more.