Kenna moaned, and Erion was lost. He threaded his fingers under her hair and gently grasped her nape. Her fingers curled around his forearm as she leaned in, and he deepened the kiss. The flesh beneath his fingertips heated. But the fire he fought was the blazing need coursing through his body and channeling into his groin. His cock swelled, lengthening and hardening.
Her grip on his arm tightened, and she nibbled his lower lip before finally breaking the kiss. For a split second, he felt his resistance crumble. A picture flashed of him yanking her jeans down, ripping off her panties, and tracing the seam of her pussy with his cockhead, then parting her folds and sliding his shaft into her wet heat.
Would she welcome him, knowing his motives? He could reason he was there to protect her, but he could do that without touching. At the moment, he wanted so much more than a touch or a kiss. He wanted to fuck her more than he wanted his next breath. Kenna’s mouth lifted in a tentative smile, jolting him from the image.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what got into me.”
Erion swallowed hard. He had.
She surprised him by pushing away. “I’ve planned a special piece.”
Kenna crossed to the end of the wire shelf near the corner where a small crate sat on the shelf. She paused. The distance between them allowed him to breathe, force reason back into place. Whatever she wanted to show him was obviously important. He commanded his legs into motion and stepped to her side.
“What is it?”
Kenna gave him a tremulous smile that tugged at his heart, then pulled the crate from the shelf. He followed her to the table. She set the box down and lifted the top, then pulled four twelve-inch pieces from inside and laid them on the table.
Erion’s heart jump-started. The thick bubble wrap that protected the glass distorted the pieces, but there was no mistaking the color and shape. He stared as she unwrapped the first piece and set it on the table. The reds, greens, and yellows were more muted than the real-life dragons, but there was no doubt.
Kenna was blowing Drakaura.
The dragon shape-shifters’ ancestors once stood alongside the Element Champion Ryalda to protect the world of form. But those days were gone. Today, the Drakaura policed his kind. Judge, jury, and executioners, they enforced their own brand of justice.
Erion’s mind raced. But how did Kenna know of them?
A chill slithered down his spine. Aiden. The Drakaura were hunting the Fire Element. They had been known to chase an Element for centuries to catch him or her. They must have inadvertently revealed themselves to Kenna.
Erion’s blood chilled even more. Just how close had Aiden gotten to Kenna that the dragons could appear in her dreams, for that was how she would have perceived them.
Had Aiden been in Kenna’s bed?
Steely resolve threaded through Erion. He would find the Fire Element and tear him apart molecule by molecule.
Kenna unwrapped the fourth dragon and gently set it on the table before looking at him.
Fear, rage, and, worse, jealousy, clouded Erion’s mind. But he forced a level voice. “They’re quite unusual. Where did you get the idea?”
Her expression faltered. Erion recognized the hurt in her eyes and cursed. It wasn’t her fault Aiden brought the Drakaura to her doorstep. He turned his attention to the pieces and forced himself to pick up one of them.
“I’ve never seen anything like them.” He ran a finger along a red-feathered wing that was tucked tight against the dragon’s sleek body. Erion looked at her. “Dragons aren’t usually depicted with feathers.” He grinned. “I’m in awe of your imagination.”
Relief flooded her face. “I…I’ve never told anyone. Well, my family, but my parents—my mother—thought I was crazy.” Kenna blushed. “Of course, it was just my imagination, but as a kid, I didn’t know that.”
“A kid?” he burst out.
She blinked, and he feigned a sheepish look. “You’ve been a genius since childhood?”
She blinked again, but this time, the blush deepened. “A childhood dream, nothing more. I can’t really take credit.”
He wanted to hug her and swing her around. Aiden was just some guy who was trying to get into her pants—at least, as far as she was concerned. That still left the question of why the Drakaura had come to her. He’d never heard of that before, but he’d find out. And when he did, he’d kick their asses back to Ghen where they’d banished his ancestors.
Chapter Five
Kenna hoped the key wouldn’t slip from her damp palm as she fumbled it into the garage door lock. Eric had followed her home from the gallery. She wouldn’t have thought she was the love/lust-at-first-sight type. Yet, here he stood, dark and beautiful, his breath hot on her neck and smelling like a wet dream. Wait. That would be her. She was the one dripping cream from her pussy and imagining his cock in full glorious detail. She’d never considered her art sexual, but the direction her thoughts were taking now, the only pieces she’d be able to blow were erotic.
Her reaction had to explain why she’d invited him back to her workshop. At the art store, he’d ask if she did private showings. She hadn’t declined outright, but taking him to the gallery clearly said no private showings. Yet when she sat with him and Michael after the preview, she’d offered to show him how she created her magic, as he’d put it. Damn. Flattery was one powerful aphrodisiac, after all.
The lock clicked, and she pushed open the door, practically falling across the threshold. She caught herself as Eric said in a near whisper, “Magnificent.” He stood in the doorway staring at the three furnaces.
Pride swelled within her.
His gaze shifted to her. “You tamed those beasts?”
A thrill sent her heart racing. He understood. She nodded, afraid even a word would break the spell.
He returned his attention to the furnaces. “Where do you keep the whip?”
Kenna laughed—hard.
When her laughter died, he lifted the bag of supplies. “Where do you want this?”
She pointed to the left. “My bench.”
He headed for the table, and she followed. Satisfaction rippled through her as he paused in setting the bag on the bench and stared at the shelf that displayed Twilight Gold.
Eric finally placed her supplies on the bench and crossed to the shelf. Kenna held her breath as he traced a finger along a wing, down the dragon’s back to the stem, before finally resting on the base.
He twisted and looked at her over his shoulder, his gaze so intense, she sucked in the breath she’d been holding. “The colors in this piece are more intense than those in the pieces you showed me at the gallery. I thought those were the special projects you mentioned.”
Kenna shook her head. “None of them are the special piece. They’re going to accentuate the real Drakaura.”
“Drakaura?” he repeated in a quiet voice.
Her breath caught. The look in his eyes reminded her of…Aiden. What was it with men and dragons? Did the mythical creatures somehow threaten them? Or was it just her dragons?
Eric’s gaze shifted back to the piece. “You really have captured their essence.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He spoke as if he knew…as if he understood. An odd sense of gratitude spread through her. This man was nothing like Aiden. She touched her cheek. Was she blushing? Kenna dropped her gaze to the bag of supplies, then reached inside and fished for the valve.
“There won’t be any dragons unleashed today if I don’t get the fire to burn in the belly of that iron beast.” Her fingers closed around metal. Kenna pulled the valve from the bag and crossed to the glory hole furnace, then knelt at the rear and began fitting the part into the pipe.
“Can I help?”
She glanced up sharply, heart thumping, to find him standing over her. How had he sneaked up on her again? She hadn’t heard or felt his approach.
“How much do you know about furnaces?”
“I know how to get things hot.”
Kenna fum
bled the valve, barely catching it before it clattered to the floor. She steadied her hand and refitted the valve to the pipe. “Then you know about the crucible, the glory hole—”
“The glory hole?”
“And”—Kenna paused in turning the valve and looked up, eyes narrowed—”the leher?”
“You’re right. I don’t know anything about furnaces or blowing glass.”
“I guess you were lucky that I happened into the store.”
A corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “You could say that.”
Not yet, but he was about to get lucky. Kenna returned her attention to the valve. Demonstrating the art of blowing glass was the last thing on her mind. Carnal thoughts of him fucking her sent a ripple of desire through her. Intense heat burned her stomach. She gave the valve a final turn, then stood and wiped her hands on the seat of her pants. She tugged on the collar of her T-shirt.
The extreme heat of the torches and furnace could raise the temperature in the garage into the triple digits. Heat didn’t bother her. But Eric warmed her in an unfamiliar way. Rather than the radiant heat from the furnace, his presence started a fire deep inside her.
“So, I guess you haven’t had much experience blowing glass,” she said. “What do you do?”
“Investments, overseas mostly, and a bit of importing and exporting.”
She sighed. “Someday, I’d love to see my work in European galleries.” She turned on the controls, and the furnace roared to life.
“I can help you with that.”
“Nope, all fixed.”
“I meant getting your work overseas.”
“Really?”
Kenna straightened and turned toward him so quickly, she stumbled on the discarded valve lying on the floor. She clutched at thin air, her fingers closing over his hand. Cool flesh beneath her fingers startled her, and she jerked back.
He hissed through clenched teeth. “Your hands are hot.”
She yanked her gaze to his face. “And yours are so cool.”
Kenna took a tentative step closer.
Eric backed away. “No,” he whispered. “It’s too soon.”
She paused at his vocalizing her thoughts. A spark jumped between them. Kenna whirled, looking for the source of electricity. Had one of the furnaces—the room swam. She swayed. Strong fingers closed around her arms. Cool air penetrated the places beneath his fingers, then heat seared beneath her flesh as if she burned from the inside out.
“Goddammit,” Eric cursed.
She looked up into his face. Light twisted in the dilated pupils of his eyes. “Wha—” She jammed her eyes shut and shook her head in an effort to clear her vision. “I think you’re making me swoon.”
He gave a hoarse laugh and trailed cool fingertips over her forehead as if to soothe. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Eric?” Fear boiled in her belly. “What did you do to me?”
“I’ve made you want me.”
She tried laughing, but the sound came out a croak through her dry throat. Fever spiked. Breathe. She couldn’t breathe. “I feel like I’m on fire.”
He grasped the edges of her T-shirt. “Lift your arms.”
She obeyed, and he dragged the shirt over her head. Cool air washed over her. Kenna drew in a long draught of fresh air and lifted her gaze to meet his. Gone was the play of light in his irises. The pupils were now mere vertical slits. Cat eyes. A sleek jaguar.
Kenna reached up and cupped the back of his neck. He flinched. She hesitated, then realized his reaction was because her warm hands met his chilled flesh, and pulled him closer. An inch from her mouth, he halted the lowering of his head. She lifted on tiptoes and slid a needy kiss against his lips. Warmth and cool mixed. Her head swam.
“Fever,” she whispered.
He groaned and traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue. She imagined the slow slide of his cock matching the languorous strokes of his tongue against hers. The heat between her legs intensified. With trembling hands, she placed her palms on him and slowly tracked the contours of his sculpted chest. Controlled power simmered beneath his strained muscles. Kenna twined her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.
The temperature rose. Eric yanked her hard against his body and savagely claimed her lips. She gasped. Earthy, clean tastes of rain, spices, and mountain air sizzled across her palate. His tongue curled around hers and sucked it into his mouth. He swept the soft tissues of her mouth and spiraled her senses out of control. His urgent kisses were fierce and needy. She ached for even more. Ached with a desperation she didn’t understand, only intrinsically understood that he could ease the fire scorching her internally.
One hand on her back, he stroked as he crushed her tighter to his chest, flattening her breasts against him. His fingers trailed cool swirls along her back. God, she wanted him. A bra strap slipped down her arm. Kenna rubbed against him, and the smooth cotton of his shirt rubbed against the exposed edge of the nipple. She slipped the straps down both arms, then unhooked the front and let the bra drop. Eric sucked in a breath.
Desire shot through her at the blatantly male response, and her nipples tightened. She needed him, now. Kenna grasped his hand and covered a breast with it. Cool fingers closed around her flesh. She cried out and pressed his palm closer.
“Eric,” she pleaded.
“Kenna,” he said in a hoarse voice and kneaded the breast.
“Cold,” she murmured. “So cold. Feels so good.”
Was she sick? If she was, Eric was the cure. She shivered and burned. No, this wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced. This was almost supernatural.
Eric slathered kisses down her neck. She shuddered at the icy sensation of his mouth. Like hot ice. Kenna threaded her fingers through his hair. Everywhere, she felt him everywhere. She pressed against him, seeking the cool release from the blazing inferno roaring through her body.
“I want to touch you.” She slipped her hands under his shirt and brushed fingertips against pebbled nipples.
Kenna shoved the shirt up and came face-to-face with the broad expanse of tanned chest. She kissed a breastbone, a pec, then a nipple.
With a growl, he yanked his shirt over his head. In a jerky motion, he tugged open the buttons on her jeans then shoved them down past her hips. Kenna kicked off her sandals, then threw her arms around his neck as he lifted her onto the table in one fluid motion. Heat from her pussy burned her inner thighs.
Eric pulled the jeans the rest of the way off her body and whispered, “Spread your legs.”
Kenna froze. Those words. Her dream. Her throat constricted. He pressed his lips to hers, and she breathed easier. He straightened.
She stared up at him. “Who are you?”
Gently, he kissed her, sipping at her lips as he eased between her thighs, then whispered, “I didn’t want to be, but I’m exactly who you need.”
She glanced down at his jeans, tight around his cock, then looked back at his face. “And that is…”
“Erion.”
“Erion? But you said—”
“I know,” he soothed. “But, here, now, I’m Erion for you.”
The name washed over with the hint of a winter rain on the horizon. “I’m hot.” She reached between her legs and slipped her finger between her inflamed folds. “I need you here. Touch me, Er-Erion.”
He pulled back, his gaze piercing clear to her soul. A chill raced up her spine. Not from fear. She wanted him with a ferocity she’d never before experienced. Kenna grabbed the front of his jeans and tugged open the snap. The rasp of the zipper lowering caused her pulse to jump. A thin dark dusting of hair trailed from his navel into his briefs. She slipped a shaky hand inside, fingertips grazing the silken softness.
“Ah fuck.” His head fell back, and his eyes closed.
She fondled the length of his hard, thick shaft.
“Your hands are hot.” He pushed his jeans past his hips, and his cock thrust forward from a thatch of black sp
ringy hair. The heated scent of musk and male strengthened.
His cock was huge, long, and smooth. Dark veins threaded the length and pulsed beneath her fingers. She stroked him from base to tip, but rather than turning hotter with her touch, he cooled in her firm grip. Clear liquid seeped from the slit in the engorged darkened mushroom.
Liquid fire flowed from her pussy. She needed his cold steel inside her fiery depths. “Erion, I need you. Now.”
He shucked his jeans. But instead of plunging his cock where she desperately needed and dousing the inferno raging in her core, he dropped to his knees on the concrete floor. Wrapping his hands around her ankles, he lifted her legs over his shoulders. Closer, his mouth inched, his gaze locked with hers. Feral hunger glinted in his eyes as his breath fluttered her curls.
She inhaled sharply. Last night she’d dreamed of him. “I know you.”
“Yes. As I know you.” He waited, and she did as she’d done in her dream and spread her pussy lips for him.
Wet licks of his tongue coaxed her clit from behind its hood. She moaned. He growled and opened his mouth wider. His tongue swirled around the clit, then flicked lower to lap the hot cream from her tunnel.
One arm on the table, she braced her body and pinched a nipple with the other. A string tightened from nipple to clit. Euphoria clouded her mind. Erion continued to lick her folds, stab his tongue into her hot center, and suck her aching clit. Pleasure rippled through her. Her body vibrated, and sweat sizzled on her skin. Rocking her hips, she thrust her mound against his mouth.
“I’m coming,” she gasped as orgasmic release jolted through her. “Oh God, yes.” Her trembling thighs locked to the sides of his head. “Right there.”
Erion slid his hands under her ass, buried his mouth in her curls, and sucked as she rode her orgasm.
Whoever he was, she needed him—right where he was—between her legs. Kenna’s mind shattered into a million white-hot sparks.
Born Into Fire Page 4
