Blazing Fear

by Leisl Leighton

She nodded, bit her lip as his gaze flickered down to the movement before lifting back to hers, the fire sparking there so hot, so needy, sparking an equal needy heat in her. She wanted him, so badly. ‘What kind of a distraction?’ she asked, unable to stop herself from teasing, just a little.

  He stared at her for a moment, then smiled. ‘This.’ His fingers didn’t tighten on her face as he lowered his mouth to hers, giving her the ability to pull away if she wanted.

  She didn’t want.

  She’d never not wanted to do something so much in her life before, even though she knew this was foolish. Even though she knew she should pull away, should want to pull away. She hadn’t given in to anything like this in years. Ever really. Nothing had ever felt like this before. What was so wrong in taking a little distraction for herself when she needed it so badly?

  She moved up just a fraction, meeting his lips as they came down to meet hers.

  The shock of the contact rocked through her, so much more than it had when they’d kissed before. This time, she knew where it was heading. He’d spoken his intent.

  They were friends.

  They didn’t want to be more.

  But they wanted this.

  It made so much sense. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it earlier. A solution to meet both their desires. Their needs.

  ‘Prita,’ he gasped pulling back. ‘Please say yes.’

  She didn’t have to think about it—many of her best decisions had been made without thinking about it. Especially when they felt right, and good. And by all that was holy, this felt both right and good. ‘Yes.’

  One of his hands was suddenly on her arse pulling her close, so close, but not close enough. She could feel his thick length pushing against her stomach and oh my god did it feel good, but it wasn’t enough.

  ‘Too many clothes,’ she said as his lips left hers to blaze a trail along her chin. She tipped her head back to allow him better access to her neck. One hand was on her breast now, knuckles brushing over her nipple, making it tighten and lift.

  ‘We should do something about that,’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’

  Her hands were in his hair, brushing over his muscled shoulders, clenching his arse. He groaned when she did that and his mouth returned to hers as he lifted her.

  ‘Your knee.’

  ‘What knee?’

  ‘Couch,’ she said as he began to move.

  ‘Bed,’ he said, moving towards the hallway that led to the back of the cottage and the bedrooms.

  She didn’t want to wait that long, and it was obvious he was struggling to maintain his course, as they stopped a number of times on the way to the main bedroom, her back pushed up to the wall as they kissed and touched and they ground themselves against each other. Her breath was coming in pants as they bumped their way through the bedroom door, the bed a metre away, and began to push the shirt he wore over his t-shirt off his shoulders. He let go of her long enough for her to push it down his arms and off and away, but before she could get to his t-shirt too, he was urging her to lift her arms so he could pull her t-shirt off.

  ‘God, Prita,’ he said, looking his fill when she was standing before him in shorts and a bra. They’d not turned the light on, but the moonlight coming through the window was so bright she could see him so clearly, the way his hand trembled as he reached out to touch her. ‘So beautiful.’ His gaze lifted to hers and then back down to her breasts. ‘I want to see. I want to taste.’

  ‘Yours first,’ she said, fingers teasing along the skin of his stomach as she took the hem of his t-shirt and lifted it up. He groaned and shuddered, skin visibly twitching as her knuckles brushed over him, moving slow, revealing his gorgeous stomach and chest inch by slow inch.

  ‘You’re killing me.’

  She smiled and kept moving slowly, making sure to keep the contact with his skin as she went, even as she lifted the t-shirt up and off his raised arms. Oh, she enjoyed his reaction, the moans and shivers and trembling.

  When she finally dropped his t-shirt to the floor, they were both panting, their skin glistening with perspiration.

  Together, they lifted a hand and reached out to touch the other. She wasn’t sure if the moan that left her lips was because of the feel of him cupping her breast through her bra, the knuckles of his other hand grazing up her belly, or because of the way he felt under her hand, his nipple pebbled so hard, the crisp softness of his chest hair, the light scattering of it doing nothing to cover up the hardness of muscle beneath, the arrow of it leading down his rock hard abs making her want to do nothing more than follow the path it indicated.

  So she did. Fingers caught on the edge of his jeans, slipped under. He moaned and rocked towards her, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her breasts just enough to make her moan and rock towards him.

  ‘Prita.’

  ‘Off.’

  The jeans came off much faster than the t-shirt—Flynn took care of it himself this time—and then he was standing there wearing only his knee bandage and dark red jocks. His erection jutted out, begging for her touch.

  She wrapped her fingers around the length of him, the breadth of him more than her fingers could circumnavigate. She ran them down and then back up, glorying in his sounds of pleasure, the jerking of his penis, the trembling of his legs and stomach. She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. He was looking at her, god, how he was looking at her. She was pierced through by that look. Heat and need and a desire so strong it made everything before it go up in flames.

  ‘Now,’ he said, reaching for the button on her shorts.

  He had her shorts and panties off her before she could blink and her bra followed, then they were on the bed and his jocks were gone. He went to move on top, but she wouldn’t let him—worried about the pressure on his knee—so flipped him over and settled above him. His hands fell to her hips and he pushed up as she slid down and in one glorious glide, he was inside her, buried so deep, she thought he could go no further. She arched her back, their combined moans mingling as they froze in that moment of joining.

  Then he moved and she moved and incredibly, he went even deeper with each stroke and she was trembling and running her hands over his chest, his shoulders, into his hair, lifting his head from where he had been suckling the base of her throat and brought his mouth back to hers.

  Hard, open mouthed kisses, breath and tongue and taste and wet.

  Yes.

  Yes.

  He moved harder, faster and she moved with him, hands sliding over slick skin. He reached down and slid a finger between them, finding that spot that, oh! Oh! Sex had never felt like this. Ever. This was … it was …

  She cried out as she came in a cascade of pulsing muscles and trembling nerves. He followed her, lifting her higher and then they fell and fell and all was darkness and sensation and sound.

  She dropped on top of him, the weight of his arms around her, and she’d never felt so whole before.

  It should have frightened the hell out of her, but astonishingly, it didn’t.

  Chapter 20

  Flynn woke sometime later, the feel of Prita a warm weight in his arms. The room was dark. They’d been too desperate for each other when they came in here to stop and think of something as mundane as turning on a light, and after the explosion of that astonishing release, he’d been in no state to think let alone move. He’d actually fallen asleep before he’d had much of a chance to think about anything at all except, wow. But now he wished they’d turned the light on because he wanted to see her. He’d barely had a chance that first time to savour her, to marvel at the light that glowed golden on her tawny skin when they’d been in the lounge room, to see the dark brown of her nipples that had been hinted at behind her bra.

  He shifted so that he could look at her shadowed form in the bed beside him. The curtain was open, but clouds had moved in, the light sprinkle of rain tapping on the tin roof above their heads. He was glad for the rain—they needed it—but he would have lik
ed more light to see her by. Light spilled in from the hallway outside, but only enough so he could see the dip and rise of her shoulders, waist and hips as she lay on her side and the dark spill of her hair on the white of the pillow.

  Her hair! Hell, how he loved her hair, the dark, silken weight of it in his hands, winding around his fingers as he sunk them into the thick warmth of the strands to hold her head just at the angle he wanted as he took her mouth.

  Her mouth. He loved her mouth too. Full and soft and spicy and sweet. The taste of her beyond those full lips was something he’d not been able to get out of his mind and he wanted to taste it again. Not just her mouth. He wanted to taste her. Everywhere. He bent down and kissed the tip of her shoulder that was angled towards him, taking a deep breath as he nibbled the skin there. She smelled as good as she tasted. Her scent had always driven him a little mad.

  She made a little muttery-moaney sound as he nibbled along to the crease where shoulder met neck and bit down lightly there. He lifted his head to see if she was awake. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing deep. He wanted her to wake up so badly. He wanted to take his time with her, but he also wanted to turn the bedside lights on so he could see her as they made love again.

  Patience. He didn’t need to rush this.

  His cock flexed and throbbed, indicating how much of a lie his body thought that statement was. But his cock wasn’t in control this time, and the rising tease of desire growing again from a heated warmth into a raging blaze would be ever sweeter if he took his time and savoured every moment. He didn’t know how long this would last, how long Prita would agree to be a friend with benefits, so he wanted to make the most of every moment they had together while he could because it was going to have to do him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like this was something they could keep doing every fire season to help get him through. Or maybe it was. How could he get her to agree to that? He didn’t know. He should just be glad that she’d agreed to it for now. He would leave later to later, because he didn’t want anything to ruin this moment. This night. He wanted to spend it lost in the wonder of her.

  She made a kittenish sound of appreciation as he ran his hand down her side, sliding the sheet across her soft skin, off and away, so that he could see her. Well, as much of her as he could in the dim light from the hall. He could see the shadow of her nipple nestled against the back of her hand. He wanted that nipple in his mouth. But he wanted more than that.

  He wanted to roll her over onto her back and watch as he ran his hand through the silk of her hair, teased her with the soft ends of it, see the flare of her pupils right before he took her dark nipple in his mouth. He wanted to watch as he ran his hand along her stomach, see her muscles twitch at his touch as his had twitched at hers. His cock flexed at the vision of his fingers disappearing into that dark thatch of crisp hair between her thighs and sunk lower, lower, into her wet, fragrant warmth. He wanted to taste her there too. Wanted to look up as he licked her and put his fingers inside her, one, then another and another, bringing her to climax, see the way her face changed, the glow deepen and heighten and then lose focus as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. He wanted to see as she arched her back, her head dropping back, as he did to her what he was certain no man had ever quite done before—lose herself to the passion inside.

  He shouldn’t feel such a surge of pride over the fact she’d become so wild in his arms. But he did. And he wanted to see it this time. Not just feel it. Not just hear it.

  ‘Are you just going to tease me or are you going to do something about the fact I’m wet and throbbing?’

  He lifted his gaze to her face. Her eyes were still closed, but there was a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. He moved up and over her, lips meeting hers, sipping at her lips, delving inside to taste the spicy sweetness of her. She moaned deep in her throat as their tongues met, rolling onto her back so that his body leaned into hers, weighting her down into the mattress. The need to take, take, take, was so strong, he was trembling with the effort to pull back. Especially when she lifted her legs to wrap around him, positioning herself just so for the taking, and said, ‘Take me. Now.’

  He pulled back, keeping their bodies separate, and smiled down at her. ‘So demanding.’

  ‘I’m a demanding woman.’

  ‘Yes, you are.’ Always challenging him and everyone around her to be the best they could be. It was one of the things he liked about her.

  She tried to grip him tighter, pull his cock into her slick, warm depths, but he resisted, pulling his mouth from hers and staring down at her, then flipped them over and reached out to the light switch to turn on the bedside lamp. She went to open her mouth in protest as light flooded around them, but he flipped her back over onto her back and silenced her protest with a kiss. When he was done, he leaned back. His knee twinged a bit, but he didn’t care. If he got his way, soon he’d be feeling nothing but rushing heat and driving need as he took her higher and higher and savoured every moment.

  He pulled away to look into her eyes.

  ‘The light.’ She waved at it.

  He gripped her hand and held it above her head. ‘I want to see you. I want to see you as I take you slow and steady and drive you insane with need.’

  ‘I like a man with work ethic,’ she said, her voice husky, trembling and yet teasing.

  ‘Good,’ he said, chuckling, then before she could respond, kissed her again, long and slow and deep. And when she was practically purring and vibrating beneath him, he left her mouth—he’d return to it later—and nibbled and nipped his way down her throat, savouring the dip at the base before moving across her collarbone and down to her breast. He lifted and shaped the round mound—surprisingly full, hiding just how tiny her waist truly was, how gorgeous and rounded her arse. She tended to wear loose, flowing tops and dresses so that he’d never fully appreciated the shape of her, but he did so now, running his hand over the dips and heights, the slight softness of her belly, the flare of hip bones that angled down to the place he wanted to bury first his tongue and fingers and then his cock.

  First things first.

  He took her nipple in his mouth and watched as her gaze fogged and her head dropped back, the little airy gasp that came out ratcheting his need up to almost unbearable heights. But this wasn’t about taking his pleasure. It was about giving to her. Worshipping her. Thanking her for the relief and strength she was giving him by agreeing to his plan. Because right now, he felt stronger and more in control than he’d felt for years. Ever, in fact.

  Making love to Prita, having her as his distraction from his weakness, it was a hell of a crazy plan, but it was working.

  He licked over and around the bud of her nipple, nibbling to the underside, and back up to suck her whole into his mouth before making his way over to her other breast and giving it the same treatment. She rocked underneath him and moaned his name, the vibration of the sound pulsing through him. He looked up at her face as he took her other nipple in his mouth and it was as good as he’d imagined it would be. She was glowing, her eyes when she opened them and looked down at him, hazed with pleasure and focused solely on him at the same time. She moved to stroke his cock and he groaned at the deep pulling need that such a simple gesture could bring. Her touch turned insistent in a moment and he smiled as he licked over her breast and down to her ribs. ‘Not yet,’ he whispered against her skin and moved beyond her touch, enjoying her whimper of protest, a whimper that turned into a gasp as he dipped his tongue in her navel. He bit the soft skin underneath and stroked her breasts with his fingers, teasing her with the wetness his tongue had left in its wake. Her eyes shuttered closed and her head dropped back, body arching up a little off the bed as he moved down, down, sliding his hand down her sides to her beautiful bottom, cupping and lifting her as he settled between her legs and looked at his objective nestled in that dark thatch of hair. He breathed in the scent of her, so much fuller and richer a scent than what was held in the skin of her neck, her
breasts. He dipped his tongue in, once, twice, holding her steady as her hips jerked. The breathy sounds she made were his favourite sounds in the world at that moment and he wanted to hear them again. And again. And again.

  He licked up her centre and back down, one hand sliding from her bottom, over her stomach and down through her glorious dark curls and into the wet, heat of her centre.

  ‘Flynn,’ she breathed.

  Fuck, he loved the sound of his name on her lips. He’d always thought his name was just an okay name, nothing special, but when she said it, it was like it held the secrets of the universe or something. It was like she’d said the name of a god.

  And right now, he felt something like a god. The god of sex. Of desire. Of coming. Yes, he was going to be the god of her coming.

  He slipped his finger inside her and watched as sensation lit up her face, the way her lips moved, the hazy pleasure in her eyes as they fluttered open and looked at him and she said, ‘More.’

  He smiled and then gave her exactly what she wanted. Because if he was a god, then she was his goddess.

  And he would worship her until they were both sated and full and nothing else in the universe mattered. Not his weakness nor her worries. Just them. Just now.

  He tasted her and used his fingers on her and made her come, screaming his name, and then he did it again and as the magical sound of his name died on her lips a second time, he entered her, bringing her to another orgasm just before he fell over the edge, her name on his lips and nothing else filling his thoughts but how fucking great he felt.

  He’d wanted to spend the morning with Prita, repeating last night’s endeavours, but she’d woken up some time before dawn and suggested that it was probably best if they weren’t seen coming up from the cottage together.

  Reluctantly, he’d had to agree. This was between the two of them and nobody else needed to be aware of it. They’d all think it was something that it wasn’t and neither of them were prepared to try to explain exactly what it was about.