The Chilling Change Of Air (Elemental Awakening, Book 3)

by Nicola Claire

  I whimpered, not understanding them, then the dust devil parted and there was Theo, still out cold on the hard stone floor. And I had to reach him. I had to reach him. I just had to reach him.

  So I clasped Mark's shoulder, used him to haul myself closer to that prone form. He realised what I was doing and dragged me a step nearer. The wind picked up, the flames in the brazier flared, somehow not being snuffed out in all of this, the ground shook beneath our bodies, and the water dripping from my face danced a dazzling twirl around us.

  And something sparkled. It could have been inside my head. It could have been stars in the night sky.

  Then, thank you Aetheros, my hand wrapped around Theo's ankle; he sat bolt upright and stared at my face. Gold blazed. Matched by my green and white and Mark's ice blue. And then everything lifted, rose up off the floor, and came crashing back down again in a final sonic boom.

  Ringing resounded in my ears. My vision blurred. My jaw felt locked tight. My muscles trembling. But Theo stood before me, Fire dancing from the tips of his fingers, and hopping across the distance between us to land on my nose.

  I sneezed, the ringing turned to crackling, and Mark threw his hands towards Theo and snuffed out the flames with what appeared to be a bucket of water.

  The last crackle and pop sounded, and then noises came rushing into my ears, as I heard Theo say, quite calmly, "My Stoicheio is back, Alchemist. Try that again and I will burn you to a crisp."

  "Go ahead," Mark growled in return, moving to his feet and puffing out his chest. "But I'll steal your oxygen and cut through your flesh with the power of a water-blaster."

  Theo took a step closer, his large chest butting up against Mark's slightly smaller one. The fury, though, in both of their eyes pretty much matched.

  It was Theo who opened his mouth, but I managed to stumble to my feet, and pushed my way between their Neanderthal bodies.

  "Stop," I gasped. "Just... stop."

  "Cassandra," Theo immediately turned me into his body. "Are you hurt?"

  I tipped my head back, feeling all kinds of exhausted but otherwise OK, and lifted my hand to his cheek infusing my touch with Pyrkagia. Oh, blessed return of Pyrkagia.

  He closed his eyes, groaned low as he hauled me hard against his chest, and then rasped, "Fuck," under his breath as his body shuddered.

  "Um, what are you doing?" Sonya asked, eyes wide, a pink flush up her cheeks at what she was watching.

  "Sonya!" Nico exclaimed and rushed over, as Aktor gingerly stood, and Isadora discretely hauled Mark away from my side and out of possible Theo blasting range.

  "Alone," Theo instructed, quietly in my ear. "Now," he added more urgently.

  "We need to check that everyone else got their Stoicheio back," I argued, half-heartedly.

  "No," Theo argued back, much more forcefully than me. "I need to be inside you."

  Oh.

  "Now."

  There was no freaking way I wanted to argue with that.

  He grasped my hand, flicked a cursory glance over everyone else, and then marched us down the closest corridor into the darkness.

  And all I heard, getting quieter the further we went, was a tired sounding Aktor chuckling quite contentedly, as the rest of the room went about recovering from our latest Elemental encounter.

  Chapter 24

  Take Me, Oraia

  I shouldn't have felt so desperate. So hungry for his touch. For him. Something miraculous and totally unexpected had just happened. Something that I was sure had returned Stoicheio to at least Theo, Mark and myself, maybe the rest. I couldn't think clearly enough to work out the mechanics, though.

  All I could think about was Theo's hot hand in mine, the Pyrkagia he was throwing around with abandon, and my body's own eager response.

  Pyrkagia are sensual beings. Part of what makes them Fire Elementals is their call to all things heated. Passion and lust are forms of heat. Something a Pyrkagia can manipulate, feed off and fuel. They need it. They can be blinded by it. It can rule their actions and thoughts, direct them, almost control them. Especially if it comes back in a rush off adrenaline and takes them unaware.

  For several days we'd been without it. Theo, a prince who commands his Stoicheio with regal perfection, was completely at its mercy right now.

  He pulled me down a series of narrow corridors until we must have been as far away from the others as we could get in the cellar. It was cooler here, which was a relief because my skin was burning. The light from the candles and fire didn't reach this corner either, but the glow from our eyes was all we needed to see.

  Theo stopped in front of a large wine barrel, and then turned and picked me up, placing me down on top of the surface, spreading my legs and stepping into the V. His lips found mine, his hand fisted in my hair, the other working its way under my t-shirt and wrapping around my breast.

  He made a sound, a desperate, hungry, needy sound, then pressed himself deeper into my groin, rocking his hips. His erection was already impressive, but when he felt the dampness through the layers of clothes that separated us, I felt him swell and harden even more.

  It was like placing petrol on an open flame, heat flared between us, becoming uncontrolled.

  In an instant he had my jeans undone, and encouraged me to lift my hips enough to pull them and my panties down my legs, then threw them all to one side. The t-shirt was next, then my bra. I was left in socks, which felt ridiculous, but right then with Theo's tongue dancing with mine, and the furnace that was igniting between us stealing all thought, the socks were soon forgotten.

  My hand roamed freely over his top, and then with a pained moan I began hauling it up and off. He accommodated me, pulling away from my bruised lips and lifting his arms, baring the sweat soaked glory of his torso. My tongue lapped at his nipple, while my fingers followed the contours of his muscles. I realised distractedly that I was squirming on the barrel top, unable to assuage that consuming need to find friction.

  Theo's hand slipped between my legs, a thick, long finger running up between the soaked folds and dipping in. I bit his pectoral muscle, digging my fingers into his obliques. He groaned, pumping his hand between my thighs, flicking just in the right spot inside.

  Starbursts before my eyes, my head tilted back and I let out a muffled cry. Muted because Theo had placed a hand over my mouth to contain my release, even as he sought more from me with his fingers and the pad of his thumb on my clit. The reminder that we were in the same room as the others had an unusual effect on me. I am not experienced, Theo has been my one and only lover, yet in that instant I had never felt as turned on as I did right then.

  I whimpered against his hand, then bit down gently on his palm. He made a rumbling sound, deep inside his chest; appreciative, eager, encouraging.

  "Lean back," he growled low, a sexy, roughened whisper.

  I obliged immediately, finding a wall behind me to prop myself against as Theo pulled my butt to the edge of the barrel's top, spreading my thighs wider, opening me up to his perusal. He licked his lips, gold eyes I couldn't stop looking at flicked up to mine, and then he was down on his knees, his face at just the right height, his tongue delving between my folds and making me shudder.

  One hand held firmly to my hip to keep me pressed against his mouth, the other pinched one of my nipples, making my back arch, a sound escape which wasn't muffled and my hips to begin to rock, seeking more, needing more, desperate for more.

  The hand at my breast reached up until he could cover my mouth - I hadn't realised I'd started to moan loudly - and the other at my hip moved between my legs and two fingers slipped inside. He sucked and licked as he pumped and flicked, and then just as I thought I couldn't take anymore, he gently bit down on my swollen nub and sent me skywards.

  His lips replaced his hand at my mouth and the taste of me and him on my tongue made me jerk and twitch and then he was there, just at my entrance, his trousers somehow gone, his hard, broad head pressing in, seeking entry, stretching me deliciously
as he slowly slid inside.

  I was so wet he met little resistance, and within seconds he was buried deep, holding himself still as a breathless grunt escaped his lips, swallowed by my mouth.

  "Oraia," he groaned against me. "I'm going to make you come around my cock now," he added, still not moving, but I could feel his hard length twitch inside me and my walls clench in response, stroking him wickedly. "Oh, Aetheros," he exclaimed and started to rock his hips steadily.

  I was thinking that maybe it would be Theo who came next, the desperate thrusts he made were evidence of his heightened arousal. His hands moving feverishly over my skin, his lips brushing, kissing, tongue licking, soft noises escaping on each pump and grind.

  But as I rocked back, meeting him on each forward thrust, pulling him deeper and deeper with each quiver that rolled through my centre, I realised I was once again so very close to that edge. Skin smooth against skin, Pyrkagia burning between us, tangling together in a way that I'd forever crave, making our movements frantic, our heartbeats desperate, our touch scorching and beautiful at the same time.

  His lips wrapped around a nipple and with exquisite perfection he timed each pull with every single thrust, until I wasn't sure if I was being fucked or being sucked to orgasm, and that decadent thought sent my skin blazing with a flush of embarrassment, or maybe that was arousal as my mouth opened, I sucked in a breath of air, and Theo's hand clamped down hard over my lips again and held my scream of release inside.

  Holy freaking sparks of blissful sensations. My entire body shuddered, not just my centre where I climaxed, but everywhere. My skin tingled, Fire licked up my arms, sweat rolled down my back, my joints locked, my chest threatened to burst apart, and then Theo's golden eyes were right there.

  "Stunning," he whispered, no small amount of male satisfaction gleaming back at me. "Once more, I think," he added and I might have moaned in distress or desire, it was hard to tell.

  He gripped my butt cheeks, pulled my rear further off the barrel's top, left me balanced precariously as he started to really pump into me. Each thrust rocking the unstable surface beneath me, sending me back against the wall, making the breath rush out of my mouth in a gasp. A soft exhalation accompanied each rock of his hips, and then the look of utter adoration on his face stole me from the world and left me floating in a star studded space I'd never known existed before now.

  "You are mine," he somehow managed to whisper between the thrusts. One hand moving between our bodies, making my legs wrap more tightly around his waist for fear of falling off the barrel without his hold.

  A thumb rubbed over my nub, then stroked back again, and then repeated. I was so sensitive, almost too sensitive, I whimpered, my eyes rolling back as he determinedly sought my orgasm, his thumb pressing harder, the sweeps coming faster, my insides clenching and rippling and threatening to explode.

  And then I was up off the barrel, Theo's magnificent strength holding me aloft as my arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, my ankles crossed at his back. Our hips rocking, skin slapping, breaths grunting. Oh dear freaking God, this was insane. I couldn't catch my breath, I couldn't stop making little whimpering sounds, I desperately rocked back against him as he less and less steadily pumped his hard length into my core.

  One of his hands was up my back, supporting my head at my nape, the other was holding my body aloft with a hand on my butt cheek, fingers digging, squeezing, pulling, making me experience sensations in parts of my anatomy I never knew were erogenous zones as well.

  "Casey," he groaned, his face falling into the crook of my neck. "I have to bite you," he whispered against glistening skin. "Oraia," he pleaded, asking permission for something that he knew would hurt, but couldn't seem to deny himself.

  A need as strong as this coupling was. A desire that came from deep within him, as intrinsic a part of his make-up as Pyrkagia.

  "Do it," I said, gritting my teeth as I felt an orgasm begin. If I came while he bit, it wouldn't be as bad. The sensations of discomfort and disappointment washed away in utter blissful release.

  I felt Theo thicken, harden even further, if that was at all possible. He'd been big before, stretching me, filling me, taking me somewhere I'd never experienced except with him. The thought of biting me turned him on, and he'd been pretty well beyond turned on to begin with, but now with the permission to go ahead and claim me as only a Thisavros would claim his mate, he was about to explode.

  It didn't matter that we both knew it wouldn't work. Nico had been right, even without the supernatural connection, Theo and I were Thisavros in our hearts and bodies and minds. Our souls may not have had that honour, but the rest of us willingly accepted it as fate.

  His lips pressed against my skin, his tongue licked, sending me over the edge and falling, falling, falling, and then teeth bit down, skin depressed and I waited, waited, waited, for the pain of flesh tearing.

  But it didn't come. The climax too great. I cried out, my mind blanked, and then as stars exploded and lights flashed and somewhere in the world, but feeling too close by far, lightning struck making glass shatter and ozone to mix with burning wood and the scent of the fresh grass and thick forests to assail my nose, I felt it.

  Joy. Happiness. Desire for more, for him to never stop, to keep biting and licking and pumping and thrusting and sending me dizzyingly up and up and around and around until I came with a shout of surprise and awe, and Theo followed with a loud groan of triumph.

  He panted as he kept pumping, his teeth free from my skin as his lips found my ear and he whispered through the fog of utter completion, "Take me. All of me. Take my body, my heart, my seed. Thisavros."

  He shuddered, buried himself deep, and emptied all of what he was inside in an exquisite display of virility and sexuality and golden, love-filled eyes.

  Thisavros. I closed my eyes as realisation hit and the world, for that small moment, felt perfect and right.

  Theo sank to the cold floor on his knees, my legs still wrapped tightly around him, my chest pressed hard against his, my face buried in his neck and my arms holding on for dear life as I sobbed. Body racking convulsive gasps, tears streaking down my cheeks and falling on his still too hot skin; ugly, desperate noises and too frantic clawing to stay connected and close and never let him go.

  It was embarrassing. It was cathartic. It was the release of months of agony, days of torment, and a lifetime's - no, an eternity's - worth of love for this man, this preternatural powerful being. This beautiful creature who had chosen me as his mate and despite everything everyone threw at us, despite separations, and memory loss, and the world coming to an end, he chose again.

  He let me cry. He held me tenderly, whispering in Greek in my ear, words I didn't understand but needed, soft touches, smooth strokes of his hand down my back, gentle kisses against my temple, in amongst my hair.

  Then when I finally cried myself out, so exhausted, but invigorated and full of life and hope and utter blissful contentment, he pulled back and looked down at me, such tenderness in his golden gaze. He brushed my hair off my face, our bodies still intimately connected, Pyrkagia still dancing along the surface of our skin.

  "It's back," he said simply, and all I could do was nod and sniff and offer a wide, watery smile.

  We stared at each other for what felt like minutes, soaking in features, letting the sensation of a Thisavros connection sink in. Savouring it.

  Then Theo sucked in a shocked breath of air and I swear, even in the dim light I saw a sheen over his eyes, as he whispered, voice reverential and in awe, "I remember. Cassandra, I remember."

  "What?" I said, ineloquently.

  "Everything. Laying eyes on you the first time I walked in your store. Flirting with you every day for almost a year. Watching you blossom and gain courage and start to flirt back. The day Gi showed itself in your kitchen out the back. The green that shone in your eyes and nearly brought me to my knees. Our first kiss. Taking you for the first time. Everything. Every single beautiful, frightening mo
ment. I remember."

  "How?" I really wasn't up to stringing words together. This was surreal. Unbelievable.

  A dream.

  "The Thisavros connection," Theo guessed. "Whatever my father did was tied to that."

  "I don't understand," I managed.

  "We'll talk to Aktor, he may know something. But, Oraia, I remember." His smile said it all. The boyish grin he rarely showed the world, the joy and excitement that reached his eyes.

  And then I felt him harden inside me. The grin turned wicked. The glint in his eyes sensual.

  He reached out and pulled our clothes over, spreading them behind my back and then laying me down on top.

  "Again," he purred, starting to rock his hips, growing evermore thicker and longer and harder inside me. Stretching me and making a flood of wetness invade my core.

  "Theo," I gasped, as he circled his hips and ground against just the right spot.

  "I have a mind to fill you with my seed again," he advised quite reasonably against my neck. His lips smoothing over pebbled skin and finding his Thisavros mark. He kissed it, then licked, then sucked.

  My back bowed.

  "Now is not the time to get pregnant," I commented in a puff of air as his thrusts increased in force. All this talk of "seed" sounded a bit too purposeful. I'd always known how difficult it was for Athanatos to procreate, but maybe saying it aloud while doing the deed helped.

  "It's my need to mark you," he rasped against my cheek, hot breath fanning my skin, hot body gliding over hotter flesh. "A Thisavros reunion, when significant time apart has transpired, is primal," he explained, managing to get words out between thrusts, the punctuation of his hard pumps inside me making him grunt on the end of each segment spoken.

  It was such a turn on.

  "Oh," I managed and he rumbled in laughter, twirling his hips and pushing up on muscled arms to watch me fall apart beneath him.