Wanton Fire

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Wanton Fire Page 9

by Sherri L. King


  Steffy glanced down, blinking water away from her eyes and gasped. Cinder’s eyes met hers unflinchingly, as if he’d been waiting for her to look at him thusly. The picture he presented was one so explicit, so blatantly erotic that it took her breath away. The lower half of his face was buried in her flesh, his mouth working on her so that he appeared to be drinking her, eating her. His lips, his teeth and his tongue—they played upon her like a storm across the water until the flood of her response filled his mouth.

  Involuntarily she began to ride his mouth. She could barely stand yet she swayed and undulated against him until she wanted to scream with the pleasure. But she had vowed not to give him a scream—simply because he’d boasted that she would. He’d told her once that he couldn’t resist a challenge and she was no different. She would not scream.

  Her hips bucked against his face.

  The scream lodged in her throat, became a gurgling wail instead. Her body clenched, pulsed, throbbed. Her orgasm swept her away, wracking her body beyond the point of pain until she was consumed in bliss. It was frightening the ease with which he brought her. It was magical.

  When Steffy came down from her high Cinder was already sliding his thick, heavy girth into her pussy. Her heart thundered; her head swam. The strength of his hands steadied her as he began to thrust his cock in and out of her. Unbelievably she came again, almost instantly, as he began to increase the tempo and power of his penetrations. Short, breathless moans escaped her lips every time he reached deep into the core of her. He caught each noise with his mouth, licking at her lips in the brief silences.

  With surprise Steffy felt him jerk free of her, felt the hot splash of his semen on her stomach as he found release. She reached down and stroked him as he came. His powerful body shuddered and trembled with the force of it. Steffy rubbed the essence of him into her skin, reveling in the knowledge that she could affect him so strongly. Another powerful spurt of hot, creamy come and he was spent, resting his head heavily into the crook of her shoulder and neck.

  Steffy dipped her finger into the hot spill of his release and brought it to her lips. Before she could taste it, however, Cinder captured her hands and brought them up around his neck. “Now we both need a bath,” she said, reminding him of the first time she’d found him coated with sperm after her bath.

  He chuckled and took her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. His hands trembled as they fisted in her hair, bringing her face even closer to his. The water ran cool long before they managed to leave the shower.

  * * * * *

  Two weeks passed in relative peace and tranquility. Steffy and Cinder spent their days in bed, loving and resting and loving again. Their nights were spent in a state of constant alert. Cinder wouldn’t let her leave the confines of her apartment during the hours of darkness, unless it was to work at the club. Even then he remained always at her side, in a constant state of readiness.

  There were no attacks. No signs of danger. Steffy began to wonder at the need for Cinder’s ever present guardianship. Not that she disliked having him around. He was a wonderful lover. He was becoming a wonderful friend. But she hated being penned in as she was, hated being looked after, however pleasurable the experience was proving to be…most of the time.

  Steffy was growing tired of having black poster board taped to her windows to block out all vestiges of sunlight. But she’d learned the hard way that Shikar flesh blistered and burned in the light of the day. She’d left a small sliver of a crack between poster boards on her bedroom window that first day and a hairline ray of the sun had left a red welt on Cinder’s naked thigh.

  She’d been sure to cover every possible peephole after that. The sun hadn’t entered her apartment in a fortnight. Not that she needed the sun, because she’d always been more nocturnal anyway. The fire that burned in Cinder’s eyes had become her sun, moon and stars in recent days. That was really all she needed for the present.

  But that didn’t mean she was complacent in her position of house arrest.

  She missed her freedom. Her independence. She’d never spent much time with anyone besides Raine, had always led a solitary, private existence. But now she was being forced to let that go. Everywhere she turned Cinder was there at her side, and while it was usually a warming experience—figuratively as well as literally—there were times when all she longed for was privacy or a stroll out in the sunlight to a local café or shop. Cinder would have none of that. He felt it was still too dangerous for her to venture forth without him, too risky for her to leave the relative safety of her home.

  Steffy had a horrible case of cabin fever.

  And Cinder seemed no better than she. When he wasn’t thrusting deep within her body he was prowling around the apartment like a caged tiger, checking and rechecking all the locks on the doors and windows as if he expected them to try and sneak something by him. He was obviously unused to such small quarters as her home, was more used to open spaces in his home and in his work.

  By the beginning of the third week they had begun to grow testy with one another. Steffy genuinely like Cinder—she just couldn’t be around him twenty-four/seven without feeling some agitation. The man was just too stubborn for his own good. And she suspected, at times, that he deliberately baited her out of sheer boredom.

  “I’m not going to listen to that Dead Can Dance CD one more time, Cinder. I’m sick and tired of it already. Can’t you find something else you like in all my music?”

  “I’ve listened to most of your other stuff and this is my favorite. I can’t stand the caterwauling of your other CD’s.”

  Steffy growled in frustration as she watched Cinder insert the CD. “Try The Smiths, or Fiona Apple. Anything but this again, please.”

  Cinder ignored her and the haunting ballads of the band flooded her apartment. She gritted her teeth against the urge to shout at him as he plopped down in his favored position on her couch. She jerked out of her chair and began to gather her things for the evening ahead.

  “It’s a little early for that, isn’t it? You aren’t due at the club until ten.”

  She flashed a smug grin his way. “For your information I’m not working at the club tonight. I’ve got a gig at a private party.”

  Cinder shot upright, instantly alert, and sent her a hard look. “Where is it?”

  “About a two-hour drive away.” She relished the perturbed look on his face with wicked glee.

  “Why wasn’t I told sooner?”

  “I’ve been planning it for a month. It’s a well-paying gig with the possibility for more freelance jobs in the offing. You don’t think I’d cancel just because of this perceived Daemon threat of yours, do you?”

  “Are you mad, woman? Don’t you realize the folly of such an endeavor? Leaving your familiar territory for a new one is sure to give the Daemons a tactical advantage should they choose to strike.”

  “It’s no big deal Cinder, chill out.” American slang, always there to save her.

  “It is a very big deal. Daemons are becoming known for their ability to sense weakness—any weakness—and use it to their benefit. You are putting yourself at risk and for what? Money? Excitement? These things mean nothing when weighed against the value of your life.”

  “You know what I think?” Her voice rose along with her ire. “I think this whole thing has been a set up from the get go. A ploy to get me in the sack with you. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of these Daemons since that first night. I think there is no threat to my safety. I think you’re just here to get your rocks off.” She didn’t really believe that, but she was so angry she felt the need to strike out at him somehow.

  Cinder stalked over to her and stared down into her eyes. The temperature of the room rose several alarming degrees. “You do yourself no favors in accusing me of such duplicity, woman.” His words were biting in their formality. “I wanted you, yes. I seduced you, yes. But you wanted me just as much as I wanted you and we both know it or I wouldn’t have pursued. I would have kept my distan
ce all this time but for your willingness. Don’t think to insult me with such harsh words, for I won’t have it.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” She hastened to placate him. “I let my temper get the better of me. But Cinder, you have to admit that these past weeks have gone on without any sign of danger. I think you’re wasting your time here.”

  “Would you have me leave you then?” His eyes were twin flames burning into hers.

  “No.” There was no question of that. “I just don’t like feeling so trapped in my own home.”

  “If you came back to my home you would have all the freedom you desire.”

  “My place is here. My life is here. I’d be even more a prisoner if I went back with you now.”

  Cinder sighed and backed away. “The Traveler will bring my team here tomorrow night for their weekly check in. I will ask Cady what she thinks. She senses the Daemons far better than any of us can anyway. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps Tryton overestimated your allure to the Horde’s minions. Cady will know.”

  The thought of his leaving her caused an ache to spread from her heart to the rest of her body. But she wanted her freedom. She wanted her life to go back to the way it was. Didn’t she?

  “Get ready then.” Her voice was hoarse, strained. “We’ll be leaving in an hour.”

  “Fine.”

  Steffy concentrated on the rhythms in her mind as she gathered her things and ignored the weeping music that resounded in her heart.

  Chapter Eight

  “Stupid heater isn’t working,” Steffy growled, her numb fingers fiddling awkwardly with the heat controls on the dashboard of her old Austin mini. She’d driven nicer cars in her day, it was true, but this one she had bought and paid for through honest work.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Freezing,” she admitted.

  “All you had to do was ask,” Cinder teased and suddenly the confines of the car warmed up considerably.

  Steffy laughed. “I forgot. Thanks.”

  “Anything for my lady.”

  The long country road lay winding and solitary before them for miles in the darkness. Steffy tapped her fingertips on the steering wheel in a ceaseless, ever changing rhythm, breaking the silence between them. Cinder had begged her to leave the stereo off during the trip. He couldn’t stand the ever-present noise she was so addicted to.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked in a rush. The silence was grating her already and they hadn’t been on the road for more than thirty minutes. “I’ve got some hot dogs in a baggie in the back seat if you like. The last time Cady stopped by she told me how much you like them.”

  Cinder shuddered. “No thank you. I like my dogs better alive.”

  Steffy laughed. “You’re so weird.”

  “You’re the one who’s weird. I know you like dogs—living dogs. You pet your neighbor’s poodle every chance you get. How can you, in good conscience, eat something you love so much?”

  Her laughter stopped. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course. Doesn’t it shame you at times, your penchant for ingesting ‘man’s best friend’?”

  She roared with laughter. “They’re not real dogs, you nut. They’re just called hot dogs. They’re usually made of pork or beef byproducts. No dog. At least… I don’t think so.” She frowned, suddenly thinking of those nameless byproducts that made up hot dogs. She’d never been much of a fan of them herself.

  Cinder seemed to ponder her words. “Why would a food bear so misleading a name?”

  “It’s just a gimmick name, Cinder. I don’t think there was any real intention by the inventor of these things to trick you into thinking it was a real dog.”

  “Humans are so strange.”

  “Shikars are the strange ones.” She paused, took a deep breath, and finally spoke of the thing that had been bothering her ever since she’d met up with the Shikars. “I mean think about it. You spend most of your lives guarding these Gates of yours against Horde invasion and for what? So the Daemons will get wise and find a way to sneak past you into the human world. So then you spend the rest of your lives tracking these things down to protect the world from their evil threat. Why? You don’t like humans. You protect us, yet you don’t care for us at all. Why is that?”

  “It’s just the way it has always been for my kind.”

  “Why? Haven’t you ever wondered why?”

  “Well yes, I guess. When one is young, one always questions these things. But as time passes the why becomes unimportant.” He fell silent for a long moment and then blurted out in an almost defensive rush, “It is my sworn duty to protect humans against the threat of the Daemon Horde. As you said, it shouldn’t matter why. It just is.”

  “Why do you resent humans so much?”

  “I don’t resent them. I don’t,” he stressed. “But your kind confuses me. You are so oblivious to the world around you as it is. You seek to control and change everything you come into contact with. And yet you’re so innocent as you do it.”

  “I can assure you that most of us aren’t innocent at all in the things we choose to do,” she said wryly.

  “But you are. There are so many wonders that you are unaware of, my kind being the least of them. But you would do anything to live in ignorance of those wonders. You have no pride in your race, only in yourselves as individuals. Your history seems to have no value outside of the schoolroom. Nothing matters to you but your immediate pleasures. You live so short a time and struggle so hard to ignore that fact. You should make every moment of your life count for all it is worth. But most of you throw it away on frivolous, meaningless pursuits.”

  “Like me, you mean. I entertain people for a living. People who are ‘throwing away their lives in the pursuit of pleasure’ as you said.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “It is what you meant.”

  “Your music is brilliant. You are brilliant. But where you could be orchestrating your own music, you are remixing the music of others. And where you could be sharing your gift with the masses, you choose instead to share it with a few drunken wildlings at a small club in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Hamburg is not in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You know what I mean. You have potential and yet you do nothing to obtain the fullness of it.”

  Steffy thought for a moment, his words bringing her no small amount of pain. “You’re right.” Her voice was weak with the realization. “I’m not really trying. But I tried once, went to college, studied hard, tried to train for a professional career in a recording studio. It didn’t work out. Nothing like that ever works out for people like me.”

  “What do you mean, for people like you?”

  “A nobody. A loser. I came from nothing. From trash. My mother lit out when I was three, leaving her family for one of her endless string of boyfriends. I haven’t seen her since. My dad was an asshole who hit me every chance he got, after she left, in order to feel like he actually controlled at least one thing in his life. I left home as soon as I could get out of school and lit out on the streets because I had nowhere else to go. I thought I could make it fine on my own, thought I was so smart.” She sniffed derisively.

  “It wasn’t a week before I was into some pretty shady stuff. A couple of weeks and I was part of a street gang, a ring of car thieves. I was pretty good at it. I had an instinct for when cops or security might be close. I liked to steal cars right off the lots of the dealerships—I hated stealing directly from people, as lame as it sounds. I stole prime pieces only because it was all a game to me at the time. I still hold the record for the most scores in one night. Not that I’m proud of that,” she hastened to add.

  “How did you get away from such a life?” he asked gently.

  “One day I woke up and realized there was no future for me beyond jail or rape or a knife in my stupid back. So I took some money I had saved up—money I’d earned from stealing and stripping cars—enrolled in a foreign school and left on the earliest available f
light to America. I was lucky, really lucky, that I had my academic history to fall back on. People tend to ignore any minor red flags when you possess the right I.Q.”

  “Then I was wrong. You haven’t wasted yourself. You’ve come a long way in your years. I am sorry.”

  She snorted inelegantly. “Be still my heart. An apology? From you? There must be icebergs at the Gates right now.” They laughed together. “But you’re right. I’m not really going anywhere. I am having fun though, so that’s something, I guess.” She smiled at him.

  The car sputtered and jerked beneath them. Steffy downshifted in an effort to rev the engine, but to no avail. The car shuddered, coughed and died.

  “What the hell?” She tried to turn the engine over, pumping the gas as she did so. The engine caught, held, then died again. Steffy tapped on the gauges behind the wheel and groaned as the fuel gauge’s needle abruptly fell from half a tank to empty. “Damn it. I thought they fixed that at the garage when I took this in for service.”

  “What is it?” Cinder’s voice was alert, ready for action.

  “Fucking petrol meter doesn’t work. I told the mechanic to fix it. The asshole charged me for labor on it so it should work.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked slowly, as if talking to a fussy child.

  Steffy glared at him. “We’re out of gas. And we’re probably miles away from the next petrol station.”

  “Can’t you use your cell phone to call for help?”

  Steffy was way ahead of him; had, in fact, pulled her cell phone out of her purse before the words left his mouth. She pressed the button to illuminate the face and groaned at the message that greeted her.

  No service.

  “We’re too far out of range. My coverage doesn’t extend all the way out here, I guess, or the phone just can’t get a signal through all these hills.”

  “Do you mean we’re stuck here?” he growled dangerously.

  “We’ll have to flag somebody down.”

 

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