The Fire Within

by Marie Harte

  His legs, however, had gained some muscle due to the amount of walking he did here. Without a horse for transportation, Darius often walked around town, not wanting to remain cooped up in his relic of a conveyance.

  If not for the large interior, which fit his frame, and the fact that his job was too far to reach by foot each day, he would never have bought it. But working at Outpour meant constant exposure to potential brides, and he had to continue his exploration until he found his affai.

  Sighing, he left the bathroom and slid between the sheets in his king-sized bed. The rustle of satin over his body made him uncomfortably aware of how long it had been since he’d last had a woman and how very attractive he found Ms. Samantha Brooks.

  His cock stirred, the memory of her nipples peaking under his hands, of her curvy form locked against him making him hard and throbbing in an instant. Cursing her timing and his tiredness, he rolled onto his stomach and tried to find rest. But throughout the night dreams of her tantalised him, to the point where he woke up in a sweat, his body begging for completion.

  Imagining Samantha’s hands trailing his body, he reached for his cock and began stroking, all the while visualising Samantha on her knees, sucking him deep down her throat. His breath grew ragged and he increased the tempo, growing unbearably aroused at thoughts of her swallowing him, of shooting deep in her mouth. He varied the fantasy, picturing her bent over to receive his cock, riding him with her breasts thrust out, begging for his touch. He felt again the weight of those globes in his hands, the pert nipples standing at attention, spiking in him a powerful lust.

  In his mind’s eye he could see her deep green eyes rich with yearning, her swollen breasts begging to be sucked. The petals of her womanly softness would be plump, her clitoris rosy with need for him and him alone.

  With a sudden groan he climaxed, spending into his fist again and again while thoughts of Samantha filled him with ecstasy. Stunned at the depth of his need, he couldn’t help wondering about Samantha and the strange fascination he felt for her. It had been ages since he’d felt so aroused by the mere sight of a woman, and even longer since he’d felt the need to take care of his own urges.

  After cleaning himself with a nearby towel, he settled into a precarious state of rest, his body humming with satisfaction while his mind raged with the need to reason out this newest puzzle.

  He found it hard to believe a woman of this world could be his affai. Attraction and lust he understood. Hell, he freely admitted to wanting Samantha’s body. But to find an affai here on this plane? A woman to complete his spirit, to join with him into unending life? Despite Arim’s and his mother’s claims to the contrary, Darius doubted he would find a true mate in a world devoid of magic.

  As his mind tired and he drifted into sleep, he realised he would see Samantha again tonight. And when he did, he would set the rules and the stage for seduction, and praise be, get the sexy vixen out of his blood for good.

  Chapter Three

  Samantha moaned and thrashed her head from side to side, needing relief. Darius, however, wouldn’t let her go. His silky black hair brushed her inner thighs as his tongue danced over her folds and sank deeper, seeking her ripe clitoris.

  Again and again he took her to peak, only to leave her dangling perilously close to the edge.

  “Tell me, affai, how much you want me,” he said thickly, the rumble of his voice stirring her to new heights.

  “I want you, I want you.” She reached for his head, running her fingers through his hair as she brought his mouth closer to her centre. “Please.”

  She felt him grin before his mouth completely closed over her. With a small shriek she arched into his touch, completely enthralled by the heady licks and nipping bites that brought her to the verge of climax.

  He sucked hard on her clit and thrust a thick finger inside her, increasing the friction on her swollen nub. A second finger entered her, stretching her, preparing her, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Darius,” she groaned, a hot gush of desire drenching his fingers. “I can’t stop it. Oh yes, yes,” she cried and came, her orgasm explosive as he continued to suckle her.

  He mounted her then, the feel of his thick penis like living heat at the entrance of her core. Waiting until she stared into his eyes, eyes that shone a fiery, inhuman red, he slowly eased inside…

  “Everything okay in there?” A woman’s voice asked from outside the door at the same time the doorknob rattled.

  Shaken and confused, it took Samantha a minute to understand what had happened. Thoroughly embarrassed, she cleared her throat and spoke loudly enough to be heard through the door. “Yeah, sorry. Just a bad dream.”

  “Right, well, I’ll come back later then.” Footsteps and a squeaky wheel faded into silence before a door down the hall opened and banged shut.

  Samantha glanced at the alarm clock on the bedstand. Eleven o’clock. Wiping her sweaty forehead, she threw the heavy comforter off her and swung her legs to the floor. She grimaced when she stood, uncomfortably aware of the moisture between her legs.

  I had an erotic dream. Big deal. Except one of the maids had heard her scream.

  Samantha felt her face heat and tried to shrug off the embarrassment as she headed into the bathroom. But she still couldn’t believe how real the dream had felt. As she stood under the shower’s warm stream, she could easily recall every detail about Darius Storm, what he looked like, what he smelled like, what he tasted like.

  She stilled. She hadn’t had one of those dreams in months.

  Then a detail of her dream flashed before her. Darius Storm had stared down at her with red eyes. She immediately relaxed, relieved her dream was nothing but her horny subconscious screaming for sex.

  Just a dream, not a vision. Nothing to worry over.

  Shaking her head to escape her fanciful thoughts, she forced herself to focus on the here and now.

  “Mundane details,” she muttered as the water massaged her scalp. “Find an apartment, check on storage, and forget about gorgeous dream men and their amazingly skilled mouths.” She ran her fingers through her hair, rinsing out the shampoo as if rinsing away the pleasure she’d recently felt. “And no more orgasms.”

  Orgasms led to needs and desires she’d been working hard to suppress. Hell, she didn’t even touch herself anymore.

  After a year with Josh-the-Asshole, she’d thoroughly finished searching for Mr. Right. The fact of the matter was she kept settling for Mr. Right Now, despite her desire not to lower her standards.

  Samantha didn’t understand her inability to find someone worthy of her affections. She didn’t ask for much. A man to love her, to respect her, and most importantly, she wanted someone in whom she could trust. She thought about her needs and secrets, the deepest core of herself she’d never shown anyone.

  Only a man that truly shared her spirit would understand that which drove her. A strong, intelligent partner to comprehend the oddities that made up the woman who saw things others didn’t.

  She turned off the water and shivered while she sought a fresh towel. Drying herself, she couldn’t help pondering whether Darius Storm had any hidden depths. On the surface he seemed a lewd playboy too confident of his desirability. Sure, he was beautiful with a body to match, but was there anything more beneath his perfect face?

  At thoughts of him her body tingled and she cursed as she dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater. The man had taken advantage of her last night, coming on to her after scaring her half to death in the basement. So what that she’d felt exceedingly needy. It made sense considering how long she’d been without sex. Adding a man like Darius Storm to the mix was like adding a match to a pile of kindling drenched in kerosene.

  No, she would do better to live on her own devoid of men, building a secure life for herself both financially and emotionally before she even thought about dating again. Shrugging on a thin parka designed to keep out the cold and wrapping her neck in a scarf, she exited the room with a fresh out
look.

  She had returned to Seattle to begin anew. New client, new apartment, new attitude. Smiling, Samantha descended to the ground floor and left the hotel with a spring in her step, despite the wintry weather.

  Avoiding several patches of ice, she made her way towards a small but trendy restaurant and ordered a large coffee and a late breakfast.

  She sat by the window as she ate, hungry not only for food but also for the familiar sight of the city she’d missed for the last year. At the time of her break-up, distance had seemed just the cure for her battered heart. But now that she’d returned, she realised how much she’d missed her adopted home.

  Raised in the Northeast, she’d grown accustomed to harsh winters and clustered traffic. Seattle had plenty of snow and traffic jams, yet the spacious outdoors and clear, crisp air made up for the growing population.

  She would never regret the job that had taken her from Philadelphia. It had been exciting to travel across the country to Washington. And Seattle’s bright mix of artistic temperament and lucrative marketing concerns had made her transition to the West Coast remarkably easy. After three years with J. Applet Financial, however, she’d moved onwards and upwards.

  Though her potential for promotion had been stymied thanks to the sexist jerks running the business, she had received plenty of experience and made enough contacts to start her own consulting firm, one that until recently had kept her away from Seattle.

  Digging into her Spanish omelette with gusto, she began to feel a renewed sense of energy when a commotion outside distracted her.

  Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, she watched as a woman dressed in a thick wool coat, which likely cost five times what Samantha’s parka had, argued with a well-dressed man who stood with his back to the restaurant window.

  His height and posture reminded her of Darius, but she couldn’t see Darius Storm owning a fancy suit, let alone wearing one. From what she’d heard of him through Gerry and seen of him last night, he was strictly a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. This man, however, wore a dark designer suit, carried a trench coat over one arm and a briefcase in his hand.

  Agitated, he donned his trench coat and ran a hand through his thick black hair while gesturing something at the woman. Damn, she wished he’d turn so she could see his face.

  Samantha glanced around her, not surprised to see others—specifically the female patrons—staring at the scene outside. The woman’s voice had risen so that occasional shrieks of outrage could be heard even through the thick glass of the restaurant window.

  Shaking her head, Samantha pushed at the remainder of omelette on her plate as she watched the crumbling woman. She forced herself to take another bite, trying hard to distance herself from the woman’s hurt. Men aren’t worth it, she mentally chided. Trust me, lady, I know.

  When the woman started crying, the man finally pulled away from her and strode in the direction of the restaurant. Several gasps and ahs floated around her, but Samantha could only stare in astonishment.

  She’d been wrong.

  Darius did own a suit and looked like a million bucks wearing it. He appeared just as dangerous as the last time she’d seen him, but now he wore a subtle sheen of sophistication from his wing-tipped black shoes to his neatly brushed hair. A corporate shark who’d just ripped the heart from another female victim.

  Imagine ending a relationship with him. Josh had been difficult to part from, but he was only a man. Darius seemed much more than that, a larger-than-life heartbreaker.

  He continued towards the restaurant and for a moment she thought he might enter. But he continued purposefully past, his eyes shuttered, a dim frown on his hard face.

  Before he left her view, however, he turned his head to peer at the restaurant full of earnest gawkers and muttered something under his breath. Returning his attention to the sidewalk, he took a few steps and left her sight, much to her simultaneous disappointment and relief.

  But the remembrance of his polished face staring into the glass stunned her, and she had to force herself to swallow the eggs congealing in her mouth.

  Since when did Darius Storm have blue eyes?

  * * * *

  Darius cursed at the sun peering through the window right into his face. He loved the outdoors, particularly the heat from the golden sun hovering in the sky, but not first thing in the morning.

  Grunting, he threw off his covers and slid out of bed. Needing something to soothe his grumbling stomach, he threw on a pair of jeans and stomped downstairs into the kitchen. Never pleasant in the morning, he felt doubly foul today after suffering heated fantasies about Samantha Brooks all night.

  As much as he felt attraction, he now felt annoyance, frustration and anger at the infuriating woman for invading his sleep—rest he prized dearly.

  “Well, well, well,” Cadmus drawled from the kitchen table. He sat with a mug of steaming coffee as he perused the newspaper. “It’s nearly noon and you’re finally awake. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were turning into the nocturnal Djinn.”

  Darius glared at Cadmus and subtly focused on his brother’s mug, in no mood for humour. With a curse, Cadmus let go of the now burning cup and glared back.

  “What’s got you so irritable? You just woke up.”

  Darius poured himself some coffee and smiled through his teeth. “I had a lousy night, okay? And what the hell are you doing here? I thought you had a job.”

  Cadmus shrugged. “I’ve decided to try another occupation. I wasn’t meeting many women building houses.” He grimaced. “The primitive construction techniques here boggle the mind.”

  “Not so primitive,” Aerolus denied as he joined them in the kitchen. “It’s a lot easier to build things when you rely on sorcery. It’s more difficult to create from bare wood, clay and water.”

  Both Darius and Cadmus shared a glance.

  “And to what do we owe this honour?” Darius asked dryly as he watched Aerolus settle next to Cadmus with a small smile on his mouth.

  “Arim contacted me this morning.”

  Darius immediately pounced, excitement replacing his frustration. Only Arim could return them home. “What did he say? Did he give you the spell to take us back?” The damned sorcerer kept in contact as often as he could with promises of return to Tanselm. He and the queen continued to lead the fight against the Netharat, who had apparently retreated to regroup.

  “No.” Aerolus paused, his eyes thoughtful as he stared at Darius. “Apparently the spell is within each of us, or ’within our grasp,’ as Arim put it. He intends to visit as soon as the situation settles. Our spellcasters have just recently reinforced the borders.”

  Cadmus snorted. “They should have done that months ago. What the hell have they been doing in our absence? I knew we never should have left.”

  Aerolus sighed. “Cadmus, it’s as I’ve said before. Time here moves much more quickly than at home. A year has passed here, whereas only a few weeks have passed in Tanselm. To our benefit, that gives us more time to find our affai.”

  “Come on, Aerolus,” Darius chided. “You don’t really believe the females here capable of sating a Storm Lord, do you? Even in Tanselm, only a select few could handle our powers.”

  “Yet that didn’t stop you from bedding as many as you could find.” Aerolus’ stare made Darius flush, an uncomfortable feeling of guilt swamping him. But what should he feel guilty about? The women he’d bedded had enjoyed every minute of bedsport and had known exactly what they were after when they invited him.

  Aerolus didn’t so much as blink when he added, “So tell us of your adventure last night.”

  “Adventure?” Cadmus looked from Aerolus to Darius. “What’s he talking about now?”

  Not knowing why but unwilling to discuss Samantha with his brothers, Darius tried to shrug off the question. “He’s talking nonsense, as usual. Just like a certain sorcerer we know.” He turned to Aerolus. “It’s obvious to me now how alike you and Arim are. Annoying and riddled with questions.
”

  Cadmus chuckled. “He’s got a point, Aerolus. You’re as closemouthed as a flatfish and full of sorcerer innuendo.”

  Darius relaxed. The attention had shifted.

  “Maybe so,” Aerolus conceded with a smile that immediately set Darius on the defensive. “But that still doesn’t explain Darius’ encounter with a certain woman last night, does it?”

  Cadmus immediately switched focus. “So it’s a woman that has you breathing fire.” He shot Darius a sly look, overly curious. “Tell us about this female, Darius. What does she look like? How does she feel?”

  Scowling, Darius swallowed the rest of his coffee and poured another cup. “I had a run-in with an attractive woman last night, that’s all. And I have no idea how she feels.” She’d felt like fire, a combustible combination of honey and warmth that went much deeper than her sensual beauty. Seeing the curiosity on his brothers’ faces, however, he had no qualms about keeping Samantha to himself for a while.

  Glaring at Aerolus, he snarled. “She’s a woman like any other. And keep your damned nose out of my business.”

  “Just curious.”

  “How the hell did you know about her anyway?”

  Aerolus flushed. “Arim mentioned her.”

  Darius clearly saw Aerolus’ discomfort, and that made him more interested. He normally never sensed anything from his brother that Aerolus didn’t want him to see.

  “Really?” He shot Aerolus a hard look. “Funny how much he shares with you and not the rest of us.” Darius paused. “Are you sure you aren’t experiencing more of Mother’s gifts than you’ve mentioned?”

  “No, just the teleportation.” Aerolus looked decidedly uneasy, and much as his brother annoyed him, Darius could sympathise. The more time he himself spent in this world, the more strange power seemed to course through him. The ability to funnel heat through his body had always existed. Now however, he found himself possessed by an astonishing and not altogether welcome gift, one no doubt inherited from his mother’s and Arim’s side of the family.