A Kiss of Fire

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A Kiss of Fire Page 20

by Jacquelyn Frank


  “I’m not saying that,” she said.

  “Then what are you saying?” he asked with frustration.

  “I simply want to know that, if the rules were different, you would have me. To wife. Regardless of whether or not I produce any—“

  “Damn you Ariana!” he ejected, reaching out and grabbing her by both of her arms and giving her a shake. “I love you! I’ll take you any way I can get you!”

  The words were out before he had any hope of recalling them. They fell between them like little explosions and he felt his entire world spinning away. He hadn’t meant to say it. If he had thought she was afraid before, she would be doubly so now.

  “I-I mean,” –oh how to fix such a blunder!—“That isn’t…I just…”

  He couldn’t figure out how to fix the problem. He was afraid to meet her eyes, afraid of the mocking he would find there.

  “You don’t mean that,” she said softly.

  His gaze snapped to hers.

  “I am not a liar.”

  “No. I mean…you won’t take me any way you can have me. You won’t be satisfied unless you can have it all. At first you’ll tell yourself that the physical is enough. But then you’ll want the emotional. Then the emotional won’t be enough. You’ll want to mean more to me than anything else. It won’t be enough until you have every part of me. And frankly, that scares me.” She took a breath. “I’m not sure I can be what you want. What you need. I think you may have picked the wrong woman.”

  “Isn’t that for me to decide? Isn’t it my duty to be responsible for my own feelings? I don’t want any other woman. I have waited a long time to feel what I feel for you. To find what drove my father to my mother’s side against all odds and opposition. I believe we can find a way if we both want it bad enough. I know what I want…do you?”

  She frowned, a light puckering of her brow. “I thought I did,” she said. “But now I’m not so sure.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked her on a sigh. He felt drug out. Defeated. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t have her so close and yet so far out of his reach. “Do you even know?”

  “It means…” she turned up her gaze to his, seeming to be only half present as she said, “It means I am tired of denying myself what I want because my people will not like it. It means I want to be able to take what I truly want.”

  Sin’s heart seized in his chest.

  “And what is it you want?” he asked, almost afraid to ask. Afraid to be disappointed yet again.

  “You,” she said simply. “I want you.”

  She tipped her chin back and caught him as he crushed his mouth down on hers. He kissed her with barely leashed, savage desire. He tightened his arms around her until she was barely able to draw breath.

  Sin couldn’t believe his ears. The words he had waited for were escaping her lips. She was finally realizing she deserved to have more than what her people wanted for her. That she deserved to have love and life independent of their expectations for her. Oh, he knew she did not love him. But that could come in time. The point was, now he would have the opportunity to share time with her. In all possible ways.

  Her hands were clutching at his back, her nails digging in to the fabric of his shirt. He kissed her again and again, not letting her catch breath for fear she would use that breath to recall him. To stop him. But he didn’t think he could be stopped now. Not any longer.

  Sin reached for the sash at her waist and untied the knot with one hand. He stripped it away, letting her blouse fall loose at the bottom. The instant he could, he slipped a hand beneath it and caressed the warm skin of her midriff. Without undergarments to impede his path, he slid his hand up to embrace one full breast with eager fingers. She was so soft. So warm. He had never felt anything like it. His thumb flicked over her nipple and that softness tightened into hardness, the point thrusting out, begging for more from him.

  He made a frustrated sound against her lips and broke his mouth away for just long enough to whip her blouse off over her head. Now she was bare-breasted in his hands and he couldn’t return to kissing her until he had looked his fill. She was so pale and perfect, her nipples so rosy pink. Like the buds of a flower in the stark landscape of winter snow. Only this winter landscape was warm and sweet.

  He was breathing hard as he looked down on her. He had no idea how savage the hunger was that was in his eyes.

  “Now is the moment to change your mind, Ariana,” he said hoarsely.

  She took his face in her hands and made him meet her eyes.

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “But you may come to regret this?”

  “No. I won’t regret this. I promise I won’t.”

  That was good enough for him. He didn’t have the strength to refuse her in any event. He had reached the end of his tether. He hauled her up into his arms again, taking her mouth like a starving man. She let him abuse her, making no complaint. His hands raked up and down her back, her warm flesh filling his eager palms over and over again. When he broke from her mouth to catch his breath, he buried his face beneath the fragrant fall of her curls and kissed and bit at the length of her neck. Then he pulled her up off her feet and up into his body, brought her breast to his lips. He caught at her nipple with his teeth then sucked her into his mouth with one strong pull. She released a long, throaty moan. He switched to her opposite breast and plucked at the nipple he abandoned with his fingers, feeling the wetness of it from the saliva he’d left behind.

  Then, with a savage curse he scooped her up into his arms and walked the few short feet to her bed. He threw her down onto the mattress and stripped off his shirt. He picked up her hands and brought them to his chest.

  “Touch me,” he said. “I need you to touch me.”

  She did. She swept her hands over his skin again and again, her touch divine and warm and curious. She devoured every inch of his torso with her questing fingertips. Then he unbuttoned her skirt and slid it free of her body, leaving her lying beneath him in nothing but her slippers. These he removed last, then looked down at his handiwork.

  She was breathtaking. As beautiful as she was when she was well coifed and dressed to perfection, she was even more so in her natural state. She was perfectly pale everywhere, the only disruption the rosy hue of her nipples and the brassy red curls protecting her sex. These he reached out to touch with light, drifting fingers, reveling in how hot she was, how she was just waiting for his touch beyond them.

  He began to press kisses to all of that bare skin, feeling with his mouth how warm she was. The softly perfumed scent of her skin made him dizzy. He enhanced the scent by bringing her flavor onto his tongue. He kissed her chest, her breasts, her nipples, and her ribs. He dragged his tongue down the smooth plane of her belly and then dipped it into the hollow of her navel. He drifted his lips through her curls then on to her thighs. He worshipped them both inside and out, then moved on to her knees and calves and then, last but not least, her feet. At first their arches, then their insteps, and then her toes.

  Then he reversed his path back up her body and as he came close enough her fingers burrowed into his hair, clutching at his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine. He nipped at the inside of her thigh and he could smell the sweet musk of an aroused woman so close. Then he was determined to taste all of her. All these nights when he had been denied her, this was one of the things he had fantasized about the most.

  Her thighs fell open as his shoulders nudged between them. His lips and tongue darted to trace the crease of her thigh. Then his fingers traced through those damp, glossy curls and he slowly dipped them into the wet folds of feminine flesh. She gasped when he spread those nether lips apart and opened her up to his tongue.

  His first taste of her core would be something that he remembered forever. She was sweet and salty, ambrosia on his tongue. Wet and so very hot. He sucked and nibbled at her succulent flesh and her fingers clutched madly at his hair, holding his head to her…as if he were go
ing anywhere.

  Ariana was gasping for breath, her whole body turned liquid and hot. She felt as though every nerve was on edge and exposed. He found where she was most sensitive and began to work her expertly. Heat burned her up from the very insides of her veins and arteries. Her blood scorched as it pumped through her. Pleasure swirled inside of her in hot, driving pulsations.

  She gasped when he found her clitoris and sucked it between his lips, toyed with it with his swirling tongue. Then he released it so he could tease the entrance of her body with his tongue. Then, suddenly, he was slipping a finger inside of her, thrusting it in time to his dancing tongue across her clit. She moaned as the symphony of touching and tasting worked her up to a wild point of pleasure. With one swirl of his tongue she was launching into an explosive orgasm, her shout filling the room.

  She was panting hard for every breath as he kissed her swollen flesh and let her come down from her peak slowly. But his removed touch made her feel vacant in spite of her still-singing nerves. He lurched up the length of her body and kissed her lips in a wild abandon.

  “I’ve never heard anything so sweet in my life as the sound of my name in your passion.”

  Had she shouted his name? She had not even realized it. She was glad that she had. She so wanted to please him. But again, it seemed so one-sided. He was always seeking out her pleasure and never taking any for himself. Well, that was about to end. She reached down for his waistband and the buttons that closed the fly of them. He caught her hand, much to her frustration, and stilled it.

  “Not yet. If I let you touch me this will be over within minutes. I have waited too long for you.”

  “Then it will be over,” she said stubbornly. “And then we will begin again. I will have you now.”

  She shrugged off his touch and went about undoing the buttons. It was no easy task. His pants were tight to his body and his body was hard and swollen with need. Eventually she loosened the fly and felt warm smooth hardness filling her hands. She wrapped her hand around his erection and he groaned out soulfully.

  “Ariana, please!” He gasped as she stroked him down his full length and around his entire girth. Her thumb swirled over the moist head and she felt him shudder. Then he was shrugging off her touch and leaving her so he could kick off his boots and peel off his pants. When he returned to her it was to come up the center of her body, his hips invading her thighs, pushing them wide apart so his shaft was running through wet folds in an eager slide.

  “I must be inside of you,” he ground out. “I can’t wait any more.”

  Neither could she. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks and pulled him forward. He found the entrance to her core unerringly and began to enter her with a rending thrust. He was so big and so hard. But she knew she could take him. She knew they were built for each other. With two more thrusts he was hilted deep inside of her and he was panting so hard for breath he was rasping for it. He held still deep inside of her and she watched his dark eyes as they were overcome with need for her.

  “I can’t,” he whispered on belabored breaths. “I can’t wait.”

  With that he surged inside of her. Withdrew and surged into her again. He didn’t start off slow. He simply kicked into a deep, rending rhythm. He thrust hard and fast, their bodies undulating together. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, his sides…his hips. His mouth seized hers. Their tongues dueled even as their bodies tangled together. His rhythm was like punctuation. Hard and short and demanding.

  “Oh God,” he rasped. “Arianna! Jova!”

  Sin felt release clawing up through him, from deep deep inside of himself. From the part of his soul that called her jova. Love. The Kiltian word for love. His orgasm descended on him with a fury. He slammed into her one final time and it exploded out of him. Part of him realized he had left her behind, but he couldn’t stop to take care of her even though he wanted to so very badly. She was right. They would need to begin again. But before that could happen he had to survive his release into her. It drained him of all of the tension of the past weeks…months…years. All of it jetted out of him and into her. He spilled seed and emotion into her and became stark and vulnerable. Did she know? Did she understand she had the power to destroy him?

  He had to fight back the tears that threatened to expose him. He buried his face in her neck, gasping for breath and some semblance of control over his emotions. Her hands were in his hair and she was trying to pull his head back so she could see into his eyes. He couldn’t allow it. Not yet. Not until he had regained himself.

  So he hid his vulnerability by kissing her along her neck and shoulder. He listened to the rasp of her breathing, let it ground him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I should have waited for you.”

  This time when she pulled his head back he let her. He met her beautiful amber eyes and hoped he had hidden enough of himself away.

  “I take it as a compliment,” she told him with a sweet smile. “And I know next time you will do better.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “Because I’m beginning to know you. And you always strive to do better.”

  “You are right about that,” he said softly.

  He was still inside her and she was still inside him. He wondered that she couldn’t see it. Or maybe she did but was choosing to ignore it. He wasn't sure his emotions belonged in her world. Not yet anyway. She wasn’t ready to let them in.

  That was all right.

  He would wait.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Dendri?”

  Dendri looked up from the papers on his desk to see his wife in the doorway. He had been pouring over some estate records in an attempt at keeping his mind off the things pressing on him. He owned a large, self-sustaining villa and surrounding estate that included everything from dairy to vineyards to fresh produce. The winter was when everything slowed down and he was able to go over the accounts with the steward. The steward had left him to it about an hour ago, the hour having grown very late.

  “Yes, love, what is it?” he asked, his attention half distracted by his work.

  “I was thinking maybe you should try and get some sleep. You haven’t been sleeping well.”

  That brought up his full attention and he surged out of his chair and crossed over to her.

  “I’m sorry, love, have I been keeping you awake?” He reached her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

  “No the forty-pound weight sitting on my bladder keeps me awake. You I can handle.” She winced slightly and stretched out her back. “Although I do have a devil of a backache today.”

  “That might be the forty-pound weight again. Let’s go to bed and I will massage your back.”

  “Oh that sounds heavenly. Are you sure I’m not taking you from your work?”

  “But you just said—“

  “To sleep. That’s different than slave labor.”

  He grinned at her and placing a hand at the small of her back he guided her out of his study.

  “It’s a labor of love. Better I see you happy than anything else. That is my mantra in life.”

  “Well far be it from me to interfere with your mantra,” she said with a grin.

  He led her through the maze of rooms in the house and into their bedroom.

  “Is Bess asleep?”

  “Yes. We were up late talking. You know how girlfriends can get. Have I ever thanked you for letting her live here with us?”

  “Only about a hundred times. I told you…your friends are my friends. And I hope the feeling is reversed.”

  “I like your friends. Except for one or two. Well…one.”

  “She is no longer my friend. Not since I heard what she said to you. She only comes here because she is Wil’s sister. Otherwise, if not for Wil, I would have barred her from the house long ago.”

  “No. I’m glad you haven’t punished Wil for Olla’s cattiness. He’s a good man and a good friend. Why, just the other day he—“

  Yasra
stopped short. She gasped. Then she looked down at the ground.

  “What is it?” he asked, following her gaze.

  She was standing in a small puddle of cloudy water.

  “What the hell is that doing there? Did you get your feet wet?” Dendri asked.

  “I got everything wet,” she whispered.

  “That’s all right. We’ll just get you fresh slippers.”

  “Dendri…”

  “I’ll have to talk to Tudman. One of the maids must have spilled something.”

  “Dendri…it wasn’t one of the maids.”

  “Then who was it?”

  “It was me.”

  “I don’t understand. If you knew it was there why didn’t you step around—“

  Dendri broke off when she shot him an exasperated expression.

  “Dendri, it was me,” she repeated.

  Dendri’s eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath.

  “Your water just broke?” he demanded of her.

  She nodded vigorously.

  He pounced on her, sweeping her up into his arms and hurrying her the rest of the way into their bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and would have left her, only she clung to him.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I have to go get the doctor!”

  “Get Tudman up and get him to do it. Come back to me.”

  He pressed a hasty kiss to her cheek then hurried out of the room. Yasra got off the bed, changed out of her wet gown and slippers and cleaned herself up a little. She had just put on her fresh nightgown when she felt the first twinge of pain crossing from her lower back around to her front near her navel.

  She took a deep breath and tried to focus past the pain. Her heart was pounding and she wanted Dendri back. As if conjured, he suddenly appeared, a bedraggled Bess in tow.

  “Oh you needn’t have woken Bess,” she said in dismay.

  “Get back into bed,” he commanded her, ignoring her completely.

  “Dendri, we have time yet. The midwife told me first labors can take hours. Sometimes days.” Yasra didn’t know what to wish for. Quickly or slowly, he would be leaving two days after the birth.

 

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