“You aren’t wearing any panties.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had access to clean underwear,” I reminded him. There’d been no underpinnings left with my gown in the dressing room. “Do you remember my dress from the gala?”
“How could I forget it?”
Asher’s gaze bathed me in a lusty haze. It was impossible to forget how he looked at me, but it had been so long since he’d made me feel this way I tingled all over. I’d been numb without him. I took advantage of his reverence, and slid his open shirt and jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall in a pool on the floor next to my dress. Black and gold. Lace and leather. We looked good together, no matter what the form. His pants were next, and His Majesty had taken a page out of his Queen’s book, forgoing underwear. I lost my train of thought for a minute. I wanted his thick and ready shaft inside me more than I wanted to breathe.
“There was no wearing anything under that dress. You have no excuse.” I grabbed his shaft, running my hand along the length. Asher groaned, his long lashes fanning out as he closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see to meet my lips in a kiss. He tried to keep time with my rhythm, but he’d stutter and stop when I circled the tip.
“You’ve got to let me take the lead.” He could barely speak. “It’s been too long since we’ve been together. You make me crazy, and I’m out of practice.”
I nodded. We only had one chance to get everything right. Neither of us had the instruction sheet on the Blood Moon mating ritual, but I was pretty sure we had to fuck. And climax. We needed that primal connection to prove we belonged to one another.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
Asher licked his lips. “Lay on the bed.”
I backed away from my King, slowly, giving him a chance to catch me if I changed my mind. But he didn’t have to, he knew he had me. It wasn’t a physical thing. It was spiritual. A bond that could never be broken.
I crawled back on the mattress, awaiting Asher’s next move. He never looked more like a predator than when he approached me. Hungry. Wanting. Refusing to be denied. Not in a creepy way, but in a way that started tremors deep inside me.
He sunk to his knees. I opened my legs, offering myself to him, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Instead he grabbed my wrist and brought it to his lips. He kissed the brand, tracing its outline with his tongue, then running it along the cut.
I sucked in a deep breath.
He jerked his head up. “Am I hurting you?”
“No. It burns, but it feels right.” It was a stupid explanation, but words weren’t coming to me quickly. “Keep doing it.”
Asher chuckled. “Anything you wish, my Queen.”
He finished with kissing each of my fingertips, and then guided them down between my legs. Moving my fingers over my pussy, he guided me. I knew my own body well, but I let him take the lead, using my own fingers to get me off.
My back curled off the bed, and I sat up, steadying myself by pulling Asher’s hair. He flicked his gaze up to my face, a questioning grin playing across his lips.
“I wanted to watch you,” I explained.
He nodded, and let my hand drop on my thigh. I snatched it back, putting my fingers in my mouth and licking the taste from my skin. Asher moaned, and I offered the last finger to him.
Sucking hard on my finger, he didn’t leave anything behind. Kissing my fingers one more time to signal he intended to move on, he dropped my hand in its original spot, on my thigh. My pussy pulsed, it had only been minutes since he’d touched me there but it was too long. I needed him.
I couldn’t tell him. Anything I’d try to say would be an unintelligible mess. He knew.
He kissed the spot just below my belly button. My stomach trembled under his touch, the tremors intensifying as his kisses dipped lower. He ran his tongue along my cleft, looking up at me with those golden eyes. I clutched big handfuls of the comforter, his touch was sending me into freefall.
I cried out at the first flick of my clit. Asher kept his promise, working slowly, making this last as long as he could. He took the sensitive skin between his lips, sucking on it until my vision blurred. Squeezing my eyes closed, all I saw were shades of yellow, orange, and red. Fire. Asher knew how to stoke the flames.
I’d been waiting forever to burn like this.
His fingers joined the party, he slid two of them inside me. His strokes started slow, but there was only so long any man could keep his composure, even His Majesty, Asher MacKay. The movements became more frantic, and the only way I could keep watching him was to grasp his shoulders. I was losing control of my body, and I dug in, leaving a trail of blood in my wake.
Asher climbed onto the bed as I reached my next climax, pulling my body up with him. He whispered to me, but I couldn’t understand anything. I’d become a slave to him as he pulled pleasure from my body.
His face was over mine as I caught my breath. “Telling you I had to leave you was the hardest thing I’d ever done.” Now I could understand him. “Because no woman has ever reacted to my touch the way you do. I don’t ever want to live without you.”
“Finally.” I hadn’t caught my breath yet. The orgasm hasn’t stopped tripping aftershocks. “You’ve stopped with that I want the best for my people crap and you’re telling me what you really want.”
He grinned. “I thought that went without saying.”
“It does.” I grabbed his hair. “But I like my King greedy.”
“Good. Because I can’t resist you any longer.” He steadied himself, going up on his knees to give me one last look at his body. I drank it all in, sparks were already igniting on his skin. He glowed, the fire burning deep inside him as he grabbed his cock, guiding it inside me.
I missed this.
I hoped he’d come back to me this time, complete with a little more of my madness. My inner muscles clamped down on him as he thrusted inside me. This could truly be the last time we were together, if everyone wasn’t successful with the challenge. Asher lost control, and there was nothing slow or gentle anymore. I loved the way he built to climax, it was rough and unpredictable every time.
Asher tried to kiss me, but his lips couldn’t connect. He nipped my skin, the marks he left would be the only thing I could take away from this night, besides the brand and the knowledge that the King was mine forever.
“I love you, Avila.” Asher said as he climax peaked. “I always have, and I always will.”
“I love you, too.” The bond was complete.
The flames consumed his body, reaching the windows at the ceiling. The Blood Moon would rise any moment, and I’d begin my official reign as the Queen of Chronopolis. Asher’s Queen.
And once again, the Queen of The Bay.
I gathered Asher’s ashes, rubbing them on my skin. I didn’t have to guide him anywhere. No matter what happened, he was exactly where he belonged.
With me.
THANK YOU!
I hope you enjoyed Avila and Asher’s story! Will they be human when the Blood Moon rises? You need to keep reading to find out! Meet a new Fated & Forbidden couple in Fallen Ashes by TF Walsh. Keep reading for an excerpt or visit http://fatedandforbidden.pnrseries.com/
Also keep reading for the first chapter of The Fire Dancer, the first book in the Cirque Macabre series. A very different take on fire than the story you just read. Holly Octane will take you to Vegas for a little supernatural sex, blood, and cirque.
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Fallen Ashes
By T.F. Walsh
Last of your kind? Check. Being hunted by everyone? Check. Waking up magically bound to the world's most cocky and annoying assassin? Wait, what?
Survival has always been on the top of Fallen's To Do List as being the last Dragon shifter in Tapestry had painted a target on her long ago. But after
being captured and magically tethered to an assassin who could kill her in an instant, time is running out. With the fate of an entire world at stake, Fallen has to find a way to get out alive, with or without her unwanted companion...her incredibly sexy unwanted companion.
Exiled from the Kingdom and on a mission to save his stepfather from the Collector, Saber's life is already a mess. But he never could imagine that he'd be hexed into a mindless shadow assassin or worse, being kidnapped and mystically-bound to a hot blonde vixen that has a crazy obsession with fire. Sexy/strange/fire-chick aside, he has got to find a way to get out of there but Fallen isn't in the least being helpful with their escape plan. Seriously, can things get any worse?
Magically-bound, determined, and both fighting an undeniable attraction, can Saber and Fallen work together to free themselves and save their world by defeating the Collector? Or will time slip out of their grasp and all will be lost?
Fallen Ashes is part of the multi-author shared world series Fated & Forbidden. Fallen Ashes is now available for order exclusively on Amazon.
The Fire Dancer
By Kristen Strassel
Chapter One
The crowd gasped as Katrinka tumbled from the sky, only supported by the silks she wrapped herself in. That was my cue.
Compared to Katrinka, I was a chicken shit. She twisted herself in fabric high above the crowd, relying on nothing but her strength and grace to keep her whole. I only relied on my brain short circuiting.
The lights fell so the crew could clear Katrinka’s set. The crowd erupted in a chant. For me.
“Holly! Holly! Holly!”
It hardly seemed fair.
My heart thrummed in my throat. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard to keep the emotions at bay.
Just a few minutes longer.
A piece of me was starting to want this; the cheers, the crowd, and that scared me more than what I was about to do.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” the emcee boomed. “Please welcome the hottest girl in Sin City...Holly Octane!”
I walked slowly to the beat of She’s Gone by The Black Keys as a dim spotlight trained on me. A fire bloomed like a flower, waiting for me in the middle of the ring. My costume shielded me from the crowd. I couldn’t expose much skin. Yet. Bad things could happen. I had no room for error, just like Katrinka.
But if I screwed up, everyone got hurt.
Tipping my top hat to the audience, I circled the fire, then dropped my cropped black blazer. The slow beat of the song was exaggerated by the bustle skirt attached to my blood red corset as I grinded my hips in time to the music. Tossing the hat to the crowd, then running my hands down the length of my fishnet clad thighs, I concentrated on the crackle of the fire.
I plucked the batons from the fire like any other girl would take a rose from a garden.
The burn was my favorite part.
I maneuvered the batons slowly through my fingers. Flames surrounded me as I twirled them over my head and underneath my raised leg. The song ended, and I threw the sticks high in the air, the fire illuminating the audience. Their faces flashed against my soul, scarring it. Fireworks exploded in my brain, and I ripped open the front of my corset, whipping it around over my head, the batons falling in the dirt at my feet. The corset kicked up a cloud of soot as it skidded away from me.
Now just in glittery star pasties, sparkly booty shorts, and fishnets, I dropped to my knees and crawled toward the fire where one more baton waited for me to pluck it from the flames. The crowd knew what happened next. I rolled back on my heels and rose to my feet. As Paul Stanley wailed the opening of Heaven’s On Fire, I swallowed the flame.
The theater fell dark as the song kicked into full gear. Fire coursed through my body, flooding my belly and tingling my limbs. I opened my eyes; with the fire inside me, I could see as if someone switched on an overhead light. This was the first time I let myself look at the crowd each night. They gaped at me, lust in the eyes of some, and disgust in the eyes of others.
Good girls didn’t eat fire.
Every night I saw the same faces. Ugly, twisted, taunting faces. Judging me. Calling me a freak. They were right. And I loved it. They’d never forget me.
Good girls didn’t burst into flames.
Fire dripped from every pore, surrounding me like a cocoon. This is where I felt safe. No one could reach me here. I raised my arms over my head and catapulted myself into a forward flip through the air. The crowd erupted in cheers. I jumped on the metal pole that held up the mock tent, swinging my legs in midair as my hands slipped around it. I shimmied to the top, then slid back down into a full spilt. The flames exaggerated my every move. Coming back to my feet, I put one leg back on the pole, circling it until I landed on the floor in another split.
I rose, my back to the pole, the flames licking the metal. It took three cartwheels to make it to the chemical shower. The lights went down as the song ended so the crowd wouldn’t see my body, exposed. No fabric could survive my act. No human could survive my act. Foam rained down on me, and the only fire that remained was in the audience’s memory.
Silence ushered in the intermission every time.
I didn’t like to talk to anyone right after I performed. Emotions conjured my flames. I saw things I shouldn’t. Things I didn’t want to. The same things over and over. It was a vicious cycle I didn’t know how to stop. It brought me to a place that was raw and unfiltered, and I needed to be alone until I could get my thoughts in order.
Darkness greeted me in my dressing room. I never turned the light on right away. Instead I always leaned against the door and listened to my heart throb against my eardrums.
Let it drain, Holly.
“Bravo.” A male voice startled me in the dark. My eyes flew open. No. Not again.
One person applauded. Was there more than one of them? Heat rose inside of me. Not now, not here. Too dangerous. I squeezed my eyes closed to tamp down the fear. The flames.
When I could move again, I wiped my hand against the wall looking for the light switch. My eyes widened when I found Cash Logan in my dressing room.
He laughed when he saw my expression. He liked scaring people, and he definitely liked scaring me. It was too soon for company, screams and cries swirled around him. I saw his scars, the ones that ran down into his beard; even a glimpse of the story caused me pain. Time had made them faint, a human eye might have missed them.
Moving around the room, Cash ran his finger over the clothes I’d laid on the back of my chair to change into. He left no marks, but now they were dirty. I shuddered. The most powerful magician in the world had paid me a visit, and was now violating my things. He might as well have put his grubby fingers right on my soul.
There had been rumors that Cash would move his show from New Orleans to Las Vegas. No one in our show wanted that. Cash Logan in Vegas would mean the end of Le Cirque Macabre. But my Aunt Lucille had been waiting for this moment.
This was the reason she’d brought us here.
Why didn’t Rainey tell me he was in town? Her booth was right in the lobby. My girlfriend was a Seer, more than a fortune teller, more than a medium. She could see the future like most people watched the evening news. She’d never keep a secret like this from me. Unless…
Shit. Cash Logan was a vampire.
“What do you want from me?” My voice shook, still weak from performing. I had to scream to make it more than a whisper.
He approached me, coming way too close, pawing at a handful of my plush robe. I couldn’t breathe. “How do you do that, Holly?”
“Do what?” It was as good a time as any to play dumb.
His beard rose as his lips spread into a lopsided smile. If I wasn’t terrified, maybe I could appreciate the view. Long, caramel colored hair that looked like it had been kissed by the sun, even though that was impossible. His rugged, chiseled features showed the wear of a man who’d fought for everything he had. He looked down at me, unblinking, his free hand resting on the door above my h
ead. His hazel eyes were like the evening sky, mesmerizing, limitless, and beautiful.
“You know what I’m talking about.” His lips moved against my cheek, the tips of his hair tickling the opening of my robe. “Your fire dance. How do you do that?”
“I’ve always been able to do it.” I looked away from him before he caught me in a lie, but he moved my face back to his, his cool fingers burning my skin worse than any flame ever had.
“No, you haven’t. Something happened to you. It brought the flames to life.”
I couldn’t breathe. He knew. “Stop it,” I whispered. “I’ll ignite again, I know you can’t survive fire.”
“That’s why I need you,” he said. “You know things you shouldn’t. It’s the past that makes you burn.”
How did he know that? I’d only told Rainey. Rainey would never rat me out to some freaking bloodsucker.
“You think I’m going to help you? You’ll put us all out of a job.” I wrestled my face free of his grip and pushed myself off the wall.
Cash grabbed me, fast and hard. Any harder and he’d snap the bones in my forearms. “This is more than just a circus act, Holly. I’m talking about survival for my kind. For you.”
Survival for his kind? Lucille wanted me to help her destroy monsters like Cash. “If you’re going to kill me, do it. I won’t let you use me then suck me dry.”
“You don’t know what you are, do you?” He loosened his grip, surprised, and I rubbed my arms to bring the feeling back to them.
I sighed. He was right. I opened my mouth to speak and closed it more than once. I had no snappy comeback. No need for bravado. “What am I?”
The truth couldn’t be any worse than not knowing.
“My God,” he said, almost to himself. “I think you need me more than I need you.”
Keep reading The Fire Dancer!
Fire Brand Page 14