Pyromancist SECOND EDITION: Art of Fire (7 Forbidden Arts Book 1)

by Charmaine Pauls

  He groaned his approval. “I can make you come like this.” He blew over her wet skin, making it contract further. “But not tonight.”

  The sensations were delicious, maybe too much, but before she could process and categorize them, he placed a warm palm on her stomach and gave her other breast the same treatment. Somehow, that hand on her belly grounded her, and when he removed it and straightened, she felt cold.

  Pushing up on her elbows, she tracked his movement much like a bird keeping stock of a stalking cat. Unlike her, he hadn’t dressed up for their unorthodoxed wedding. He was still wearing the same leather jacket, T-shirt, and pants from the morning.

  He gripped the hem of the T-shirt and lifted it over his head, exposing the chiseled chest and abs she’d glimpsed in his childhood house. His tanned skin looked bronze in the candlelight, the grooves that defined his muscles running deep. His shoes hit the floor with a thud as he toed them off. His socks followed. The buckle of his belt made a clinking sound when he unfastened it. The scratch of the zipper was louder in her ears than the crackling of the fires heating the room. Her gaze followed the path of the V cutting to his groin as he pushed his pants and underwear over his hips. She couldn’t help but stare. He was a stunning male specimen, his cock thick and proud.

  Locking his fingers around her ankle, he pulled her to the edge of the bed. Her heart thumped between her ribs as he unzipped her boots and dropped them to the floor. She watched him with growing wariness as he gripped her around the waist and lifted her to the center of the mattress. Instead of pouncing on her like she expected, he knelt over her and pulled her into a sitting position, encircling her wrists while brushing his thumbs over the veins that pulsed there before placing her palms on his chest. She’d come this far. Too far. They weren’t going to stop now. Touching him wasn’t going to change anything.

  Memories from the graveyard rushed back into her mind. She’d touched him then, but only under his T-shirt. Now he was naked, a sculpture exposed for her senses. She could touch and taste him at will, and inhale the manly smell of his skin. He seemed to encourage it, waiting quietly for her exploration.

  She started tentatively, running her palms over his shoulders and down his chest. At the intake of his breath, she turned more adventurous. When she traced the hard disks of his nipples with a fingertip, his eyes darkened. He liked that. He shuddered when she brushed her hands over his stomach. He liked that even more. Her prize was the hiss that escaped through his teeth when she wrapped her fingers around his cock. That, he liked the best. So did she. His skin was warm and soft, the hardness of his flesh a surprising contrast. Wanting more of those sounds that came from his lips, she stroked gently, but he locked his fingers around hers to still her movement.

  “Enough,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “More,” she challenged.

  He chuckled. “So brave.”

  She squeezed. “Are you?”

  He sucked air through his lips, a grimace warring with a smile. “If I give you more, I won’t last.”

  “If I can’t touch you like this, then what do we do?”

  Amusement sparked in his eyes. “You’re a tease, Ms. de Arradon, but I see through you. You’re all bark and no bite.” He pushed her down onto her back. “Now we do this.”

  Lowering his head, he kissed her neck and shoulder. Her skin tingled where his lips touched her. It was sweet and pleasant, and too light. She needed more, but he wasn’t to be rushed. He planted butterfly kisses on her breasts and stomach, making her skin contract. Then, without warning, he cupped a hand between her thighs. A bolt of arousal, bold and consuming, replaced the lingering tingles under her skin. Heat detonated in her core and blazed through her body. Her breath quickened, her body demanding more, but he didn’t touch her like earlier in the woods. He just kept his hand there, infuriatingly still, while a sudden and overwhelming need rushed through her body. Her demise came embarrassingly fast, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. All that mattered was stilling the ache. Lifting her hips, she sought the friction she needed.

  “So greedy.” His lips tilted. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait.”

  He spread her legs with his hands on her knees and buried his face between them. Her body arched off the bed when he dragged his tongue through her folds.

  “I knew you’d taste this good,” he said, humming more approval.

  Instinctively, she tried to close her legs when the sensation became too intense, but he only spread them wider. He teased her clit with his tongue and held her eyes as he bit down softly. Her breaths came in spurts. Sparks detonated under her skin. With hunger blazing in his eyes, he licked and nipped until she felt pins and needles on the soles of her feet.

  “Joss,” she exclaimed. “Please.”

  Pulling away to look at her, he said in a husky voice, “This, my little witch, is worth remembering. I won’t forget this image until my dying day.”

  He draped one leg over his shoulder, opening her wider, and speared his tongue through her folds. Without thinking, she threaded her fingers through his hair. The need was unbearable. Spreading her folds between two fingers, he kissed her clit while slipping a finger inside.

  Her muscles clenched around the intrusion. He was right. It was more intense than earlier. He pulled out and pushed back in, all the while sucking the bundle of nerves where the pleasure coiled tighter. It climbed higher, making her incoherent with desire. The sounds tumbling from her lips belonged to someone else. The need built until she couldn’t take it any longer. Then, without warning, it snapped.

  The release made her eyes go out of focus. His face blurred in her vision. Her muscles contracted, curving her body like a bow. The orgasm kept her locked in a spasm for several beats before it finally gave, leaving her trembling with aftershocks.

  She couldn’t think or focus, but Joss’s voice, carrying a note of concern, grounded her in the moment.

  “You’re so tight, sweet girl.”

  Still high on pleasure, she begged, “More.”

  When he kissed her, not gently but savagely, she returned it, tangling her tongue with his as she wrapped her legs around him. His cock nudged at her entrance. She was slick with arousal, ready, but he grabbed her ankles and planted her feet on the mattress.

  “Like this,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll go too deep.”

  Grabbing the base of his cock in one hand, he angled his hips forward and parted her folds with the crest. She moaned. It didn’t hurt like the first time. The stretch felt good, even if he was barely buried inside. He framed her face between his hands and kissed her again as he pushed in another inch and then broke the kiss to ask, “Good?”

  “Mm.”

  “Tell me if I need to stop.”

  Never.

  “Put your hands on my shoulders,” he said with a tight jaw.

  She took what he offered, holding onto him. The muscles were iron hard under her palms, flexing when he sunk deep. She dug her nails into his skin, moaning with both ecstasy and a bite of pain.

  “Still good?” he asked with a strained smile.

  “Yes. You don’t have to be so careful.”

  He chuckled, but pushed deeper still. “Like I said, too brave for your own good.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Relax,” he said. “I’ll take care of everything. Just take a deep breath for me.”

  The air she inhaled escaped in a gush as he plunged forward with a hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Her knees clenched on his hips. She tightened her arms around him, holding on as he whispered sweet words in her ear. It wasn’t the praise that melted her, it was how he folded his arms around her and how he held her close, dearly, as he started rocking.

  He moved slowly at first, and when he picked up his pace, her need started to climb again. He looked down to where their bodies were joined, his features twisted into a grimace of pleasure. Like this, the tormented boy she remembered looked wild a
nd brutal as a fully-grown man, a very virile man, but he managed to keep his kisses tender. Sliding a hand between their bodies, he pressed a digit on her clit and rubbed in circles. Her hips lifted of their own accord, chasing his rhythm. This dance was easy with him. It felt natural to follow.

  This time, she recognized the signs. Her inner muscles squeezed around him when her lower body clenched. She came with a cry, the sound muffled in their kiss. He thrust twice more and then stilled with a groan, keeping his weight on his arms. He stayed that like for several seconds before the rigidness of his body finally eased. They were both breathing hard. She stared into his eyes, looking for something she couldn’t name, but the crazed heat was gone. What was left was the mask, the indifference.

  Pressing a kiss to her temple, he said, “That was worthy of an eternal memory. How are you doing?”

  She forced her lips around a smile. “Good.”

  He rolled onto his side, pulling out. “You better rest.”

  His seed wasn’t cold inside her yet when he closed his eyes and shut her out. Left to stare at the whimsical light of the candles and to inhale the sweet perfume of the flowers, she’d never felt lonelier.

  Chapter 31

  Sometime in the night, Clelia woke with her back pressed to Joss’s chest and his heavy arm draped around her middle. Stiff, sore, and sticky, she tried to get up without waking him, but the minute she moved he opened his eyes.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  He pushed back the covers, swung his legs over the bed, and picked up a candle.

  She stared shamelessly at his sculptured ass as he crossed the floor and entered an adjoining room. Running water sounded. She was just about to get up when he reappeared in the frame.

  “Don’t move.” He walked to the bed and scooped her up.

  “This is silly.” She pushed on his chest. “I can walk.”

  “I know you can,” he said in a dry tone.

  “Then why are doing this?”

  “Aftercare.” His face darkened. “Contrary to what you may think, I’m not usually the hit and run type.”

  She pressed her lips together. He was referring to their first time when she’d run. If she’d hope he’d leave it at that, she wasn’t that lucky.

  “Why did you run?” he asked, carrying her into the bathroom.

  “I told you, you started acting weird, saying you wouldn’t let me go. I panicked. When I wanted to leave you tried to stop me. We fought, and I ran.”

  He lowered her onto a rug next to a corner tub. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, but you scared me.” Her gaze slipped to his neck. “You’re not wearing your mother’s necklace.”

  “I haven’t had it fixed yet.” Trailing his eyes over her, he added, “I had other priorities.”

  Such as hunting her. Pushing the disconcerting thought away, she turned her attention to the tub that was filling with water. “I expected a bucket or a wooden tub.”

  His lips quirked. “A wooden tub?”

  “Like the ones in the movies that servants fill up with water heated on the hearth.”

  “I had the bathroom renovated when I knew we’d need a place to stay. The rest of the place isn’t decorated or furnished properly. I had just enough time to get the water connected.”

  “You had a hot tub installed in two days?”

  “I have connections.”

  Taking her shoulders, he pushed her down onto a bench, spread her legs, and knelt between her knees.

  When he parted her folds with his thumbs, she exclaimed, “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure you haven’t torn.” He planted a kiss at the top of her sex and straightened. “Everything looks fine down there. You shouldn’t hurt for long.”

  The clinical examination as much as the words sent heat to her cheeks.

  “Come.” After testing the water and turning it off, he took her hand and helped her into the bath.

  The water stung. She couldn’t help but wince.

  He got in opposite her and draped her legs over his. “Sore?”

  “A little.”

  “I’m sorry it hurts.”

  She cleared her throat. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Now the whole world will know you are mine, and nobody messes with what belongs to me.”

  Her chest tightened. “Are you saying you married me only to protect me?”

  He twisted her hair into a coil and draped it over the edge before pushing her with a hand on her shoulder to lie down in the water. “Why else?”

  “I thought…” She stared at him, unable to figure him out.

  “Thought what?”

  “That you brought me here to use me as bait.”

  Something shifted in his eyes. “I’d never put your life in danger.”

  “Only draw out the danger?”

  Instead of answering, he reached for a bar of soap.

  Chapter 32

  At the first light, Clelia woke. She blinked the sleep from her eyes. The candles had burned out and the fires were dead. The room was cold, but Joss’s naked body was draped over hers, not only warming her, but also anchoring her to the bed.

  Lying in the arms of the man who’d chased her over continents, knowing he was now her husband, was even more disturbing in the light of day. The conversation of last night repeated in her head. Joss had claimed her as he’d promised, but he had ulterior motives. She was certain of it. Bringing her back here was meant to draw out Lupien. No doubt Joss wanted to kill him before going back to New York. Until she knew Erwan was safe, she wasn’t going anywhere. Erwan was doing a good job of hiding, maybe staying on the move by island hopping, but Joss had a team on his side, and that team was resourceful.

  Her thoughts stilled when he stirred, and when his cock grew hard against her hip, her mouth went dry. He opened his eyes to stare at her, his silver gaze assessing. Stubble darkened his jaw. He looked hot and delicious, and where their bodies touched his skin was warm, but she shouldn’t forget the heart beating in his chest was cold.

  “Rest well?” he asked in a voice still gruff from sleep.

  She shrugged. She’d been tossing and turning for most of the night.

  He caught a strand of her hair between his fingers. “Hungry?”

  Actually, “Starving.”

  A smile curved his lips. “I was a terrible husband, dragging you straight into my cave without feeding you first.”

  He was baiting her with humor, but she was in no mood to make light of their situation or accept the peace offering. She had no smile to return, no white flag. This was still war. “I was too nervous to eat anyway.”

  At the nervous part, a shutter dropped in front of his eyes. He let her hair slip through his fingers and got to his feet. Like last night, she couldn’t help but stare as he faced her in all his naked and aroused glory. He didn’t seem uncomfortable standing in front of her without as much as a fig leaf. As much as she hated him, she envied his confidence.

  “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll throw something together,” he said, pulling clothes from his bag on the floor.

  She lifted herself up on one elbow, shivering when the covers fell away. Damn, it was cold in here. “Don’t you have to do grocery shopping before you can cook?”

  “The company who set up everything else stocked up with food. How does an omelet sound?”

  She was reluctant to take more from him than absolutely necessary, but she was faint with hunger. “Eggs are good.”

  He walked to the bathroom and paused in the frame. “I’ll take you to the cottage after breakfast.”

  Gripping the covers to her chest, she sat up. “Really?”

  His tone was curt. “Yes.”

  Before she could say more, he closed the door.

  The cottage. Her animals. Throwing one of the blankets around her, she padded to the bag and grabbed a dress. When Joss exited, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie with his hai
r hanging loose around his face, she escaped to the bathroom to do her own grooming. The wool dress had a tartan motif, not something she would’ve chosen for herself, but paired with a jacket it was warm enough. She walked back into an empty room, fitting her boots before going downstairs in search of the food Joss had promised.

  She followed the sounds of cutlery and crockery that came from the terrace. After a wrong turn, she found the doors that gave access to the terrace from a large hall.

  He looked up from setting a table when she exited. “I hope you don’t mind. The inside is as cold as the outside. The central heating system needs to be replaced. At least here we have a better view.”

  The view was spectacular. The flat surface of the lake shone like a mirror while the forest glistened moss-green in the weak December sun. Even with the neglected garden it made a pretty setting.

  She sat down in the chair Joss pulled out for her. “Why did you never have it restored?”

  “I didn’t have the financial means when I left for New York,” he said, taking the seat next to her, “and not for another few years thereafter. Even if I had the money, I’m not sure I’d want to live here.”

  “Yet here we are.”

  The set of his mouth turned hard. “It’s temporary.”

  She studied him. “You still haven’t told me why you brought me here.”

  His eyes were cold, their color like the frosted clouds over the lake, but he made an effort to smile. “Come here.” Taking her hand, he pulled her from her seat and onto his lap. When she shivered, he draped a blanket from the back of the chair over her shoulders. “Better?”

  She nodded, even if being this close to him only made her conflicting feelings worse. She was both apprehensive and appreciative about the warmth of his body that seeped through her clothes.

  He selected a wedge of orange from the platter on the table and brought it to her lips. “Open.”