Firestorm

by Donna Grant

  He’d said she didn’t know what she was doing. Perhaps she didn’t. But that wasn’t going to stop her.

  She gripped his hand tighter, silently begging him to end her torment and kiss her. Still, he held fast, watching her with desire that flamed within his gaze.

  Witnessing his yearning made a rush of excitement run along her nerve endings. Her nipples puckered tighter, aching as they pressed against his chest.

  His hand holding her hair tugged downward, causing her face to lift and expose her neck. The moment his warm lips touched her, her lids fell shut.

  She moaned as his tongue scraped sensuously along her skin. He placed kisses leisurely from one side of her throat to the other, driving her wild in the process.

  He was merciless in his endeavor to tease her. And she loved every fucking moment of it.

  But she burned for more.

  His kisses continued down the column of her neck to her collarbone. Then he made his way upward to her jaw. She held still, afraid to even breathe lest he change his mind.

  “Open your eyes,” he commanded.

  She complied to find him watching her. She was panting now, desire flooding her body. If he demanded it, she was sure she could climax right then. She was that turned on.

  And he hadn’t even touched her. Not really.

  A sizzle of delight ran through her when she realized that if she felt this way now, then she would soon be soaring with pleasure once he did begin.

  “I doona share.”

  Excitement tore through her as she realized what he was stating. Words were impossible now. She tried to nod, but his hold wouldn’t allow it.

  The only sound was the crackle of the fire as they looked at each other. Then his mouth was on hers, moving seductively. She returned his kiss, opening for him when his tongue swept against her lips.

  He enticed, he tempted.

  He tantalized, he seduced.

  And it was glorious.

  His kiss was intoxicating, enthralling. He masterfully pulled her along with him into a sea of desire so deep and yawning that she knew she could drown in it.

  She went willingly, eagerly. The more she tasted him, the more she craved. She knew this moment in time would forever change her, and she was glad.

  He deepened the kiss, a moan rumbling in his chest. She flattened her free hand and ran it over his shoulder, along his neck over the tattoo, and up into his hair. She held him as he did her, wordlessly demanding that he continue.

  They could’ve kissed for years or centuries. She didn’t know or care. His taste was addictive, and she couldn’t get enough.

  And when he ended it, she wanted to cry out. Then her eyes opened, and she stared into a face set in hard lines, a visage inflamed with desire and need.

  “You’re mine,” he whispered hoarsely.

  She grinned up at him. “And you’re mine.”

  He issued another growl full of approval before he took her lips in another fierce kiss. She felt his longing, the yearning inside him.

  She tore her mouth from his when he cupped her breast and pinched a nipple, crying out with pleasure so profound that she was sure time halted.

  His lips soon replaced his fingers, and his tongue swirled around her peak before sucking. Her back arched as she clung to his head.

  Finally, he released his hold on her hand. Then he had both of his on her breasts, massaging them as his mouth moved from one nipple to the other, licking, nipping, and sucking.

  * * *

  Dmitri didn’t stop until Faith was crying out for more, her head moving from side to side. He loved her small breasts and sensitive nipples. He could feast on them all day.

  He kept his gaze on her face as he ran his hand down her side to the indent of her waist and over the flare of one hip to her thigh.

  A smile pulled at his lips when he felt a shiver run through her as his hand paused. He altered his path and slid his hand to the inside of her thigh. Her breathing hitched, her body stilling as she waited.

  He didn’t make her wait long. His fingers slid against trimmed curls to her sex. His cock jumped when he discovered how wet she was.

  Unable to help himself, he dipped a finger inside her. Instantly, her hips lifted, a strangled moan falling from her swollen lips.

  It exhilarated him to bring her such pleasure. Her body was an instrument made for playing. And he intended to spend hours mastering her.

  Her back arched, causing her breasts to thrust into the air. His lips sought the puckered peaks once more, nipping lightly. Her cries grew louder. All the while, thunder rumbled so fiercely in the distance, it shook the earth. Flashes of lightning could be seen even in the depths of the cave.

  A storm raged outside. Inside, another type of storm was brewing. One of desire and pleasure, of craving and hunger that wouldn’t be denied.

  He gazed down at her pale flesh accented by the red-orange glow of the flames. Her beauty was incomparable, her spirit unparalleled. Yet it was her thirst for knowledge and acceptance of him that touched something deep within.

  With his eyes locked on her face to see her reaction, he pushed his finger deeper. Her hands fisted in the sleeping bag as her breaths came quicker.

  “Please,” she begged.

  He ignored her plea and moved down her body so that his mouth was over her swollen sex. Then he licked her, lingering at her clit.

  Her cries mixed with the thunder were music to his ears. His eyes closed at the taste of her desire on his tongue. He swirled his tongue over and around her clitoris until she was trembling.

  Then he returned his fingers to her opening and pushed two inside her while continuing to tease her with his tongue. Within moments, she stiffened, and her body clamped around his fingers.

  He looked up and watched the pleasure spread across her face as her mouth opened on a silent scream. As her body convulsed from the climax, a flush covered her skin.

  She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his. Her hands pulled him until he once more leaned over her. He kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

  When she ground her hips against him, he moaned. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard for someone. He craved her, ached for her.

  The top of his cock brushed her sex. Her responding groan sent him to the edge of his control, tumbling past any sort of reason or restraint.

  She turned his face to the side and bit his earlobe before whispering, “Dmitri, I need you inside me. I’m burning.”

  In answer, he rose up on his hands and grinned. Her pupils were dilated, her lips swollen as she reached between them and wrapped her hands around him.

  His lids closed when she squeezed and slowly pumped her fist. Her touch felt so good. He rocked in time with her as she increased her tempo.

  Then she suddenly stopped. His gaze snapped open to see her focus was between them. He looked down to see her moving his rod to her sex.

  She bit her lip as she rubbed him against her clit. His cock jumped at the erotic image before him. She had no idea how she turned him on.

  As soon as he was at her entrance, he pushed inside. The moment he was fully seated, he paused, enjoying the feel of her tight walls gripping him.

  * * *

  Faith dropped her head back as soon as he filled her. Her body stretched to accommodate his width even as her hands wished they were still holding him.

  Finally, he began to move. Her legs fell open as she ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders. As he thrust, one of his hands caressed her neck and face between his kisses.

  It was the first time she’d ever felt so … wanted. And beautiful. The way he worshipped her with his touch and kisses left her floating so high she was sure she could touch the stars.

  Her arms tightened around his neck. She never wanted this to end. It was perfection in every way, a dream come true, a fantasy that she hadn’t known she wanted until that moment.

  Thoughts ceased as the hunger once more took hold. She wrapped her legs around his wais
t and met him thrust for thrust as he plunged harder and deeper with every heartbeat.

  Desire sharpened, tightening inside her and pushing her to the edge of another orgasm. She was on a precipice waiting for … she wasn’t sure what she waited on.

  Then she knew—Muscles.

  She heard her name whispered. When she forced her eyes open, he was looking at her. Once more, she was drowning, but she wouldn’t go alone. He was right there with her.

  He pushed her over the edge, the climax taking her swiftly. She never looked away, even when the pleasure was so intense she screamed. He peaked with her.

  As their pleasure swirled and melded before slowly fading away, they remained locked in each other’s arms, their limbs tangled in the blanket.

  Only when he lowered his head to rest beside hers did she close her eyes. With her breathing evening out and her heart slowing, she heard the fire pop.

  Then she heard the thunder roll around them before the crack of lightning. It seemed right that she’d had such fierce lovemaking in the midst of a storm.

  The woman and her dragon.

  “You’re mine,” he said.

  She smiled. “And you’re mine.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Perth, Scotland

  There were many degrees of rage. Mikkel had thought he’d experienced the top of the arc the day his brother died and the role of King of the Silvers passed to his nephew instead of him.

  But the violence he felt now far surpassed anything from before.

  He wanted to destroy everything around him for a thousand miles. He wanted to find Ulrik and bash his skull in with a rock before cutting his head off with a jagged piece of iron.

  Instead, he stood in the middle of The Silver Dragon at two in the morning and fumed in silence amid the dimmed lighting of the store. He should’ve known Ulrik wouldn’t be there. The coward was running.

  Or was he?

  That thought drew Mikkel up short. He’d underestimated his nephew. To continue to do so might bring an end to his existence, and Mikkel wasn’t ready to die. Not when he was about to have everything he’d ever dreamed of.

  Ulrik wasn’t running. If anything, his nephew was getting things ready. It’s what he would do in Ulrik’s place. But what could Ulrik be planning?

  Mikkel walked through the shop, seeing through the priceless antiques and looking for something that would be important to a Dragon King.

  His gaze landed on the desk. But a thorough search yielded nothing. Mikkel didn’t bother with the computer. Ulrik wouldn’t put anything on it that could be used against him by humans or dragons.

  In order to discover just what his nephew was up to, Mikkel was going to have to find him—and leash him. It was what he should’ve done to begin with.

  But he’d believed Ulrik was still attempting to get his magic back. It was the first—and last—time his nephew would get the upper hand.

  Mikkel hadn’t waited ages while his father and then brother ruled as King of the Silvers only to step aside for Ulrik.

  He’d thought he could control Ulrik as he had before his nephew’s banishment from Dreagan. The exile from Dreagan had changed Ulrik in ways Mikkel hadn’t expected.

  Then again, that could be used to his advantage.

  For all of Ulrik’s hate and rage, there was one thing he couldn’t change—he was a part of Dreagan. No matter what Ulrik said, he wanted to return to the place he’d helped to create.

  Ulrik might have more magic than he, but that didn’t mean Mikkel didn’t have ways to overcome such an obstacle. His plans were larger than merely becoming King of the Silvers. His goal was to remove Con and lead the defeated Dragon Kings back to their original glory as King of Kings.

  The door to the shop was thrown open as a leggy brunette walked in. He turned and smiled when he saw her standing with one hand on her cocked hip.

  She wore all black, from the leather pants to the sheer tank that showed her lace bra to the leather motorcycle jacket. She tapped the toe of her stiletto boot and raised a dark brow.

  Eyes an exotic mixture of green and gold watched him. He put his hands behind his back so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her mocha skin.

  The fireball before him was lethal in more ways than one. And Eilish was an ace Ulrik knew nothing about.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  Few people dared to talk to him in such a way. Most did it without realizing who he was. But she knew exactly who—and what—he was.

  And she didn’t care.

  He allowed her to speak in such a fashion because he enjoyed her American accent and the way she faced the world as if everything rested in the palm of her hand to do with as she pleased.

  “What do you think of the place?” he asked.

  She didn’t take her eyes from him. “I was working.”

  “I think that distasteful pub in the middle of nowhere can do without you for a while.”

  “My pub can run without me for decades. That’s not the point.” She dropped her arm and walked a couple of steps to him. Light glinted off her left hand where she wore silver claws that ran down her finger to her second knuckle in elaborate Celtic designs. “Don’t dis my place.”

  He smiled at her, wishing she wasn’t immune to his charms. But no matter how he tried to woo her, Eilish would have none of it. “You could have the best pub in the middle of Dublin. Why settle elsewhere?”

  “It’s what I want. Now,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at him. “I’ll ask again. What do you want?”

  Mikkel held out his arms. “This place is Ulrik’s.”

  “Good for him. Shall I clap?” she asked sarcastically.

  “You were right.”

  She continued staring with undisguised annoyance. “Which time?”

  “He has all of his magic.”

  At this, her arms slowly dropped. Her attitude shifted as she suddenly became interested in everything around her. “I knew it.”

  “Can you stop him?”

  Eilish walked past him, touching and looking over items as she passed. “You want me to stop a Dragon King?”

  “You can do it,” he said as he turned to watch her.

  She shrugged. “Of course, I can.” She came to a stop at the back of the shop and pivoted to face him. “Ulrik is more powerful than you now. You’ve lost your chance.”

  “Not with you by my side.”

  “True. But you still need Ulrik to kill Constantine. I might be able to help you with Ulrik, but I wouldn’t be able to do it so soon after with Con. It’s one or the other.”

  Mikkel wasn’t going to accept that. “It’s both. I know what you can do. I’ll even let you choose how you kill Con. Make it quick or make him suffer. It’s your choice, my dear.”

  She held his gaze before slowly smiling. “Consider it done.”

  He drew in her scent of lavender as she meandered her way to him. Eilish slowly walked around him before she went to Ulrik’s desk and sat.

  “I’m going to need some time here. Alone,” she quickly added.

  “I’ll see it done.”

  Mikkel waited until he was outside before he smiled. Ulrik only thought he would win. The anticipation of looking into his nephew’s eyes as Ulrik realized that he’d lost and was dying eased Mikkel’s anger.

  It was going to be a glorious beginning for the new age of dragons.

  Dark Palace, Ireland

  Balladyn walked the halls of the palace. He wanted to return to Rhi, to hold her in his arms again. Although it was ridiculous, he worried that she might still feel something for her Dragon King.

  Rhi was nothing if not loyal. She’d loved her King for too many centuries. Even if she had closed herself off to that love, it was still inside her.

  It would always be inside her.

  Balladyn stopped by a window and braced his hands on either side of it as he stared into the night sky. Before him lay Ireland at its best with fields of green and fores
ts thick with life.

  Yet he saw none of it because his mind remained on Rhi. He wanted to bring her with him, to have her by his side. First, he had to get rid of Taraeth. Then he could rule the Dark Fae with Rhi.

  Except she wouldn’t come. He knew it, but he still held out hope. Rhi belonged with him, and he with her. He’d loved her for so long, then had sat back and watched as she fell in love with the Dragon King.

  It was his turn now. She had come to him. They were lovers, and he would do anything for her. Destiny had given him this opportunity to rule. He wasn’t about to let it pass him by. Eventually, she would understand that.

  It was the sound of several pairs of boots approaching that caught his attention. He looked into the window’s reflection and caught sight of Mikkel along with four Dark making their way to the throne room.

  He turned and quickly hurried to the room by a back hallway, reaching it before Mikkel. He entered to find Taraeth finishing off a human female.

  The king of the Dark patted the woman’s now pallid face and said, “Thank you, dear. You were delicious.”

  Taraeth rose and zipped his pants one-handed as two guards collected the now dead human and left the room. Balladyn noticed that Taraeth continued to reach for his missing left arm.

  “A new shipment has come in if you wish to sample them,” Taraeth said.

  Balladyn inclined his head. “Thank you, sire.”

  There was a knock at the double doors before they opened and Mikkel strode inside and greeted Taraeth with a bright smile.

  “I didn’t expect a visit,” Taraeth said and motioned for his guest to take a seat.

  “I didn’t expect to make a trip, but something has come up.” Mikkel’s gaze stopped on Balladyn, his annoyance visible.

  Balladyn remained by the throne as Taraeth poured two drinks and walked to Mikkel, handing him a glass.

  “Do tell,” the king urged.

  Mikkel nodded at Balladyn. “Perhaps this is better done in private.”

  “I trust Balladyn above all others. He’ll be the one carrying out my orders. He stays,” Taraeth stated.

  From the beginning, Balladyn hadn’t liked Mikkel. It wasn’t that he particularly had an affection for Ulrik either, being that he was a Dragon King, but Balladyn had already chosen to side with Ulrik when the time came for battle.