A Kindled Winter

by Rachel L. Demeter

  A moan emerged from her throat as he ran both thumbs over the taut peaks and stroked her rigid nipples. She lolled her head against the wall. The red curls cascaded down her pale skin, plastered to her flesh from the spring’s water. She appeared impossibly delicate … beyond lovely. Like some mermaid or mystical fire nymph. And tonight she’d belong to him. He’d make certain of it. Emotion weighed heavily on David’s heart, and he ached with a fondness he’d believed he was incapable of ever feeling again.

  He propped a hand on either side of her face and pressed kisses along her swan-neck. She squirmed beneath him, her aroma and heavy breathing swarming his senses like an exotic aphrodisiac. His scarred palms slid down the wall, leaving water tracks everywhere they touched, as he continued a firm downward quest. Moaning, withering, Jeseca squirmed under the pressure of his lips and fisted handfuls of his hair.

  Crouched on his knees, he latched onto the thin strap of her panties with his teeth and slid them down her long legs. The fabric glided over her knees—then plummeted to the ground in a puddle of sexy, delicate red lace. For several weightless moments, he caressed her thighs and marveled at the mesmerizing feel of her. Slender, but strong, soft and wondrously warm. Jeseca Reed was magic. And David had always scoffed at magic. Magic defied logic and reason … it went against everything he believed in, everything he held true.

  But Jeseca Reed had made him a believer. She’d awoken his soul, lit fire to his imagination, and stirred his mind and body from a five-year slumber.

  He hesitated while a blast of wind moaned in the distance. In the back of his mind, Lizzy’s voice echoed, persistent as ever: No. Just stop. Don’t touch me. It’s too soon. The silence stretched on, fractured only by Jeseca’s breaths, as he waited for her objections to come. Unlike the previous night, he was touching her in full view—and he knew every imperfection, every burn, stood out like a brand.

  But Jeseca seemed not to notice or care. She simply moaned, yanked at his scalp, and directed his lips where she craved them most.

  Right there.

  He ran his tongue over the moist seam and taut bud, testing the waters, tasting the dampness of Jeseca’s skin and Blue River, Oregon. Her grasp tightened on his hair while she writhed against the wall, clinging onto his scalp for support. Indeed, she held onto him like a lifeline … and David felt a resounding pang shoot through his heart. Wild with need, he drew the sensitive crest between his lips and drank her deep. His effort was rewarded with an appreciative moan and another tug on his scalp.

  His right hand slid around her thigh and found the damp crease; in a tentative motion, he dipped an index finger inside her core, allowing it to sink knuckle-deep. Her grip on his scalp tightened, and her hips rocked in time with his hand and suckling mouth. The melody of her breaths came hot. Fast. The sound of her cries echoed the entryway and flooded the cottage.

  An unladylike curse burst from her mouth as he withdrew his hand. Swallowing back laughter, he scooped Jeseca into his arms bridal style and carried her inside the family room. Brody followed after with talkative barks and animated twirls. David threw him a pointed look—and Brody vanished into the nearby hallway with his head lowered.

  Jeseca strained her neck and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. Then she gazed into his eyes—and, for a passing moment, he had to remind himself to breathe.

  We are from entirely different worlds. Her dreams are in New York and Los Angeles—in the world of advertising. In the world of people. I am a recluse … a man who can’t step inside a supermarket without drawing looks and whispers. I would only step on her dreams.

  We are incompatible.

  And this … this will only lead to a painful separation.

  Just as he was about to voice his thoughts, Jeseca’s whisper cut through and scattered them to the wind. “Merry Christmas, David Drake,” she said, her hypnotic gaze never parting from his own.

  He rewarded her forehead with a kiss, then carefully sprawled her body across the sofa. Hovering above her and propped on both elbows, he spared a moment to examine her luscious curves. Day turned to night, and fading sunlight slanted inside the room and set her pale flesh aglow. She was remarkable, exquisite … and her beauty was nothing more than a pretty package, which encased an even lovelier soul. He positioned his index finger in between her breasts and tracked it all the way down to the damp apex of her thighs. Her stomach clenched as she sucked in a steadying breath. Her skin tightened beneath his touch, and he watched as gooseflesh steadily claimed her body.

  “Tonight, you belong to me, Jeseca Reed.”

  Then he rolled off the sofa and outstretched his hand. She grabbed hold. Electricity sizzled between their palms. Thinking of nothing but Jeseca, he surged toward the bottom of the stairwell, his eyes never parting from her own, and mounted the steps.

  •

  Jeseca struggled for breaths as David hovered above her body, all darkness, painful secrets, and torn emotion. The moon’s face floated beyond the window, bone white and pristine. Its pearly glow caressed everything. Outside, the snow shone white and iridescent, the home’s panels brightened to a brownish tint, and David’s auburn hair caught fire. Remnants of gold rippled through the locks and claimed a life of their very own.

  All the while, David’s words echoed inside her mind: We’re like day and night. Summer and winter. Fire and ice. And yet something about you whispers my name and echoes inside me …

  She held onto his penetrating eyes, and noticed they, too, were alive with the surrounding light. The blue irises cut straight to her soul, and a fine golden circle rimmed his pupils. Gorgeous, she thought, breathtakingly powerful.

  David closed the door, shutting Brody in the hallway, and a dark thought surfaced in her mind. She’d known David for a little more than a week. And yet, here she was—naked and willing.

  They stood in the heart of his bedroom, silent and still, filled with equal parts apprehension and desire. She scanned the large space, drinking everything in. It screamed masculinity. The furnishings were robust, rich, and carved from elegant mahogany. The walk in closet’s door was propped open, and the full length mirror reflected David’s scarred, muscled body.

  He looked devastatingly beautiful, those eyes overflowing with desire. Scattered moonlight danced in the thick waves of his auburn hair. The scars, which warped his entire torso, upper arms, and neck, stood out like a thousand painful brands. Her eyes filled with tears as she imagined the tragedy he’d endured—and she knew, without a doubt, that these external scars were only the beginning.

  His true scars lay within, seared across his heart.

  Suddenly Jeseca wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anything else. She wanted his body, his spirit, his healing touches and reassuring words. She wanted his playful side, his crooked smile, and skillful hands.

  Most of all, she wanted his secrets. The good and the bad, the happy and sorrowful. She wanted him to share the deepest part of himself … and she wanted him to allow her inside.

  He reached forward and took her hand, enveloping it completely. Then he led her over to the massive, canopy bed and lowered her onto the mattress. Time seemed to stand still, and all breaths purged from her lungs. Her heart thumped as she felt herself falling backward. The sensation left her breathless. She seemed to be floating through time and space … as if she was disconnected from her body and only her spirit remained. In an instant he was right beside her, naked and staring down, his eyes glazed with poignant emotion.

  And the way he looked at her, his stare overflowing with desire and appreciation … it set something wild and fearless free inside. His erection stood long, thick, and turgid, pressing into her belly. Alive with sensation and wild abandon, she wedged a hand between their bodies and massaged her breasts. David released a low groan while she brought a fingertip to her tongue, whetted it, then ran it over each nipple. They grew impossibly firmer, and the crisp air caused delicious chills to race up and down her spine.

  Then Jeseca rea
ched forward, her hand trembling, and set her palm on David’s scarred chest. A shudder raked through his body and vibrated against her fingertips as she tracked them down his sternum. Then he swooped forward and claimed her mouth in a kiss. His hands cupped either side of her face, the rough skin of his palms tickling her neck and chin in an invigorating caress.

  His mouth ventured lower … lower … over her nude breasts and erect nipples … one and then the other. Only minutes before, he’d brought her to the precipice of a mind-blowing orgasm—and now she craved the release with a maddening fury. Damp, wet lips glided across the undersides of her breasts in a featherlight, transient touch. He nibbled lightly, branding her with tender love bites, then soothed the ache with his tongue. His lips moved lower … skimming across her stomach, leaving hot lines wherever they touched. Her insides clenched in anticipation, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to cry out and beg for more.

  Devour me, make me yours, her heart and body screamed.

  Hot breaths wafted against her very core. He blew lightly, and an exquisite tingling sensation roared through her veins. Her thighs grew slick and wet as his mouth hovered inches away—barely grazing her sensitive flesh. It was pure torture. A groan of frustration rattled her body as she grasped at his neck and forced his mouth where she needed it most.

  When his lips at last came in contact with her skin, the effect was mind-blowing. Her knees and buttocks tightened while ripples of pleasure melted her insides into a quivering, hot mass. His stubbled chin grazed her inner thighs, creating a delicious friction. Then his mouth slid over her wet opening—just barely—and a jolt of electricity surged within. Tremors rattled her body—a testament to the pleasure to come.

  This is not like me. At all. I should stop him.

  Conflicting sensations crashed together. Fire and ice. Desire and uncertainty.

  Strong hands elevated her body from the mattress as he’d done before. Meeting her in midair, David parted her intimate folds and circled the sweet bud in repetitive and loving strokes. His smooth tongue—so hot, slick, and pliable—plunged in and out of the moist, tender heat. In, out, in, out … it swirled within … molded around the über-sensitive flesh … pushed those moist folds aside and plundered her very soul, stealing her breaths and making them his own forever …

  “Relax and open to me.” Obeying the whispered command, her thighs grew limp and immobile. Sweat formed on her brow and seeped from her hairline. Moaning, withering like a madwoman, she fisted a handful of the cover between her clammy palms.

  Her thoughts ricocheted against each other as two thick fingertips burrowed inside her body. Sweet, sweet agony. They moved in and out, in and out … circled the tingling bundle of nerves … rocked deep, deep within … then spread her wide … before seizing the swollen, aching mound with two fingertips.

  Then he angled his lips and drew the tip into the hot cavern of his mouth. Her body unconsciously jerked upward, and David drank from her. Good God, he drank his fill. She arched against the sensation while his tongue swirled around the swollen peak. He blew gently … his teeth grazed the flesh, drawing a shallow moan from her gut. Long, firm sweeps fell across the hardened nub, delicate pressure was applied … a little more … then, dear God, just enough …

  Hard moans rocked Jeseca’s body from the inside out. He steadied her hips as he suckled on the swollen mound, drinking her deeper, deeper, consuming her. Colors burst in front of her eyes and spilled through every inch, every cell, every fiber of her being. Then she shattered irrevocably. And she knew, without a doubt, she’d never be whole again apart from David Drake.

  His mouth covered her entire femininity, and his tongue thrust deep within. It swirled inside of her, determined to break her final barrier. Coils of tension released and sent her reeling over the edge. Somersaulting through pure sensation, she fell hard and fast. Poignant waves crashed within and overflowed her mind and body in a luscious, passion-filled ocean. She drowned beneath the pleasure, urging it to wash her clean … immersing herself completely. Swept with pure euphoria, she cried out in a burst of mind-bending ecstasy, every inch of her flesh tingling and on fire. Spasms quaked through her body and purged the breath from her lungs.

  David continued the ministrations, sending a second wave of pleasure rocketing through her core, her limbs, her heart … her everything. Jeseca’s inner walls clenched, demanding him deeper, drawing him into the most intimate crevices of her being. Mumbling endearments into her body, he obliged and eased his tongue farther inside. His strong, scarred fingers sank knuckle-deep, stoking the passionate fire back to life.

  His tongue whipped against the tight bundle of nerves—wet, hot, and fiercely strong. In response, her hips rose on their own accord, meeting his mouth. Finally he took pity on Jeseca. Both of his hands clenched around her bottom, keeping her hips suspended, and his lips latched onto her core. Once more, he sucked her deep, lapped at her insides, parted the feminine folds with his strong tongue, and dove in and out in a wildly suggestive rhythm.

  Delicate nibbles. Tender pulls. Intricately placed thrusts. Fierce circle motions. Swirling and sucking. Expertly applied pleasure right there. They all slammed together in a bundle of exquisite sensation, causing Jeseca’s breathing to grow hollow and irregular. Her legs tightened as the pleasure mounted to a pinnacle unlike she’d ever known. Her hand tightened on his neck, pressing that mesmerizing mouth and tongue deeper still.

  Higher and higher she climbed … ascending to a place she’d never dreamed of reaching.

  “More …” The plea surfaced in a torn whisper. Mind and body buzzing, it took a monumental effort to so much as speak.

  The mounting tension tightened all the way through her body, promising exquisite release. Somewhere in the back of her hazed mind, Jeseca knew she was about to experience the most intense orgasm of her life. And yet, when it came, she wasn’t prepared.

  She held her breath as the wave of pure ecstasy crashed down, releasing the coiled tension in an explosive instant. She threw her head back and screamed out, welcoming the chills and tremors that crushed and overpowered her. Powerful electric jolts raced through her limbs, her mind, her heart, and the entire room seemed to spin round and round. Her breaths came in broken, shallow pants … her skin grew painfully sensitive and hot … the world transformed into nothing more than a surreal blur—and it was David Drake who kept her anchored.

  Trembling and dizzy from the pleasure, she rode the third wave into blissful oblivion. The sensation was so explosive, so unbelievable and beautiful … and it seemed to last forever. She let go of everything, allowing her mind and body to melt into unadulterated sensation. There was no past. No future. Only this moment, with this unbelievable man. Overwhelmed with emotion, she felt tears spring to her eyes—though she fought to harness them back.

  A moment later, he was right there with her as she descended from the erotic high. “Wow. Just … wow.” He climbed up her body and held her soundly in his arms. His heart thudded against her torso at a fierce tempo, strong and sure. She nuzzled against his chest, inhaled his unique essence, and found that her cheeks were damp with tears.

  David clasped onto her face and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. His thumbs danced across her damp skin, chasing away the tears, drawing invisible shapes along her flesh. His eyes darkened with concern as they hooked into her own, unblinking and brimming with empathy. “Why are you crying, Jeseca? What is it?” He drew her into a slow, sensual kiss—and, in spite of herself, Jeseca felt more tears tumble down her cheeks. Then, he added with a teasing note in his voice, “Am I really that terrible at … this stuff? I mean, sure, it’s been a couple years. But I assumed—”

  “Happy,” she said, waving him off and smiling through the tears. “I’m just happy. That was incredible. You are incredible.”

  He returned her smile with a wicked, crooked grin, and traced a fingertip over her lips. His tongue swirled across her skin and traced the rim of her ear as he spoke. “I’m happy
, too. Happier than I’ve been in years. And you’re not half bad yourself.”

  Emotion pressed hard on Jeseca’s throat, constricting her response. The dark forelock slid over his eyes and concealed them from view. She swept the thick strands aside and held his gaze. It was deep, infinitely powerful, and it whispered a thousand unspoken secrets. She longed to acquaint herself with each one—but she knew he wasn’t ready yet.

  Almost. But not yet.

  “Please, David … I need you.” She hesitated, leaned forward, and pressed her lips against his forehead. He trembled in her arms, inhaling his spicy aroma, committing everything about Dr. David Drake to eternal memory. “We need each other.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Every inch of David’s body hummed with desire as Jeseca latched onto his shoulders and shifted their positions. She climbed on top of him, her stunning eyes glazed with wild passion, a wicked grin spread across those red lips. He struggled to let go, to relax, to allow himself to surrender completely. But a lifetime of restraint placed him on edge. Icy barriers still encased his heart—though Jeseca was doing a damn good job of melting them down. Indeed. One by one, they were steadily collapsing and revealing the man beneath.

  The man he’d once been.

  Long curls draped over her shoulders as she hovered above him like some mystical fire nymph. He reached forward, mesmerized by the vision, and threaded his fingertips through those voluptuous waves. They rippled and shimmered, taking on a life of their own, drinking in the moonbeams. Even through the scar tissue and dead skin, they felt softer than silk and caused his heart to pick up pace.