Witchlight

by Sonya Clark

  Vadim dragged himself off the chaise and into the small bathroom next to his office. Cold water on his face helped wake him up. The sight of his retreating hairline did nothing for his mood. For years he’d taken his good looks for granted. Now he was starting to look a bit frayed around the edges. What had made Lizzie come on to him that first night they met? He would have guessed her for the pretty-boy type, the type he’d been before his lifestyle began to take its toll. Any ordinary forty-two-year-old man would be in bed now, sleeping hard after such a long day of work. But then, he’d spent his day organizing supplies, stealing money from banks in other cities online and planning a possible heist. Ordinary had never been his thing.

  After a quick shower he dressed in his best black suit and a blue tie he glamoured to match the deep red of Lizzie’s hair. It was well past midnight by the time he pressed his hand to the security keypad at the back door of her parents’ house, pushing magic into the circuits to override the system and enter without an alarm blaring.

  The solar was dark and empty. Her perfume lightly scented the air, suggesting she’d been in the room recently. Something else was in the air too—a thread of magic that led him upstairs. He found her in the same room as the previous night. A red bird made of witchlight provided the only illumination, lapping the ceiling in lazy circles.

  Lizzie stood against the wall with her hands behind her back, facing the door. Her blood-red dress was little more than a collection of straps, hugging her curves and revealing delectable creamy skin. It came to a stop high on her thighs, showing miles and miles of long legs that ended in matching strappy sandals, the heels of which might have been high enough to make her taller than him. Her long hair flowed down one shoulder in waves. Her stance went past confident into aggressive, from the set of her face to the way she cocked her hip to one side while he stared. For all the heat on display, though, it didn’t reach her eyes. Their blue depths were chips of pure ice.

  Heat he could handle. It was the ice that had him worried. “I thought there was some fashion rule about redheads not wearing red.”

  “When you’re a redhead that looks like me, you can wear whatever you want.”

  Vadim stepped into the room and put his hands in his pockets. “Can’t argue with that kind of logic. Going out?”

  “Staying in.”

  The intensity of her gaze combined with the slow comedown from nightshade was making him twitchy as fuck. “Is there some club that delivers late-night man meat for consumption by femme fatales? Because if there is, I want to know what they’re charging. That’s a sideline I could offer at my place.”

  “You might say you already offer that service. After all, you did show up.”

  The roving red light of the bird was getting annoying. Vadim flicked on the overhead lights with a small push of magic. “I’m here for business, Lizzie. Not pleasure.” Even he could hear the lie in his voice.

  “You’re here for whatever I want.”

  He licked his lips. “Look, sweetheart. Not that it wouldn’t be fun—”

  She cut in. “Fun isn’t the word I’d use.”

  “I don’t think I want to know what word you’d use.”

  She laughed, the sound as cold and sharp as her eyes. “Oh, come on. Aren’t you curious what it would be like?”

  Vadim shrugged. “Curiosity and cats, you know.”

  She pushed off the wall and took a predatory step toward him. “If I hadn’t left you for shooting your mouth off, what would you have done? Skipped right to the blackmailing, or fucked me first?”

  “I really don’t know.” He looked her up and down, taking another good look at the dress and the skin and the long, long legs. Looking never hurt. Looking wouldn’t get him in trouble. “So what’s got you on edge?”

  “You.” She advanced with lethal grace, indeed an inch or so taller than him in those deadly heels. Gods damn it, that was hot. Desire rattled the last of the nightshade torpor from his system. She reached for him, snaking her hands in his hair and pulling his mouth to hers.

  The kiss matched the rest of her. Burning hot on the outside, all the right strokes and bites and dirty hunger. But there was a taste of frost to it that didn’t sit right with him. Reluctantly he pulled away. “What are you doing?”

  The witchlight bird exploded in an angry torrent of red sparks over his head. She shoved him, teetering on the dangerously high heels. He caught her wrist and drew her into the circle of his arms. “Lizzie?”

  She beat her fist on his chest. “So you’ll fuck me one way but not the other? I don’t even know what you want from me.”

  “I need information. Passwords. Security codes. That sort of thing. I’ve got a list of places. Whatever you want in exchange, I’ll do it.” He brushed her hair from her face. “I’ll teach you all the magic you want.”

  Her face crumpled, the ice in her eyes melting into tears as a quiet, ragged sob slipped out.

  Vadim held her tighter. “It’s business, Lizzie. Not blackmail but a business arrangement. That’s what we agreed.”

  She twisted out of his embrace and turned away from him. Her shoulders shook and she wrapped her arms around her midsection.

  “People like us don’t cry over business arrangements,” he said. “What happened?”

  Gradually she stilled. She smoothed her hair back and straightened her posture.

  “Lizzie.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing.

  “Can you teach me how to forget? Can you make me a different person?” She turned her head to look at him. Twin tracks of mascara ran down her cheeks but the tears were over. “Is there a spell for that?” Her broken, sad laughter drove into his heart and made a place for itself there.

  “You might be surprised at what I can do.” I might surprise myself at what I would do.

  “Take me to bed.” The request was simply stated and she did not look away or act the least bit embarrassed. She simply met his gaze and told him what she wanted.

  Vadim froze, unbelieving. This woman made absolutely no sense to him. He tried to order his thoughts and push away the images driven by his lust. “I don’t know what happened but it’s very clear to me something is wrong.” He removed his hand from her shoulder and stepped away. “You’re vulnerable and needy and I may be a lot of things but I’m not the guy who takes advantage of women in that state.”

  She nodded. “I am vulnerable tonight. I have had a nightmare of a day. My life is falling apart around me and I don’t know how to stop it. But that’s not why I want you to take me to bed.”

  He took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “Okay. Why, then?”

  “Because I’m sick of living in my own skin. Because I want to step outside myself, even if it’s just for a little while.” She curved her lips into a slight, teasing smile. “Because you made a hash of blackmailing me because you want me too.”

  “Again, there’s that logic I can’t argue with. Still, though, I’m pretty sure I’ll go to hell for this.”

  She ran her fingers down his tie, all the way down. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Oh, gods, yes. Yes, you will.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A shiver passed through Lizzie as Vadim placed his hand on top of hers. With his fingertips he traced an agonizingly slow line from her manicure to her wrist, teasing up her forearm and finally reaching the hollow of her elbow. His dark eyes never left hers. Anticipation swelled in a rising wave through every part of her.

  He swept the pad of his thumb across the sensitive skin in that hollow, then wrapped his hand around her elbow and pulled her to him. “What do you want?”

  “I told you.” In her heels she topped him by nearly two inches. So many men seemed to find that intimidating. It gave her a thrill to realize it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

 
“Let’s get specific.” He moved his hands to her hips, exerting just enough pressure on her flesh to cause a hitch in her breath.

  “You just want me to talk dirty.”

  “You have such an elegant manner about you, such a refined way of speaking. Hearing you say fuck just now tickled me in all the right naughty places.”

  She draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned closer. “I don’t want to talk.” She brushed her lips across his. “I don’t want to think.” Another soft kiss, this time on the side of his jaw. “I just want to shut everything out.” She placed her hands on the sides of his face, their breaths mingling.

  Vadim kissed her, a slow dance of lips and tongues and building desire. She tried to increase the tempo but he wouldn’t let her, exerting control in a way she usually didn’t allow. He cupped the back of her head with one hand, his fingers putting a slight pressure on her scalp. With his other hand he did the same to her hip, a degree past gentle. Hunger uncurled like a wakening cat, stretching and sharpening its claws. Hunger for Vadim, hunger to get lost and let him lead the way. To let all that icy control she’d spent a lifetime mastering melt away into sweet submission.

  She broke the kiss as a flash of doubt spiked through her. “Vadim,” she whispered, spreading her hands over his shoulders.

  “Anything you want, Red.” He skimmed his lips down the column of her throat. “Anything at all.”

  So used to giving orders, she didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted. She wasn’t even sure she understood the distinction. She swallowed a lump of uncertainty in her throat. “Take me to bed.” She repeated the simple request from earlier that didn’t feel so simple now that he had his arms around her.

  He tunneled his hands in her hair and kissed her. Scorching heat from the press of his lips and the rasp of his tongue lit a fire on her skin. Every inch of her craved his touch. Desperate for skin on skin, she fumbled with his jacket until he took care of it for her by shrugging out of it. He tugged at the straps of her dress, fleeting touches on her flesh almost driving her mad. He guided her toward the bed, leading her slowly as they kissed until the back of her legs met the mattress. His hands spanned her back, fingers struggling to find the dress closure.

  She was about to tell him how to remove the dress when he tore his mouth from hers. “This fucking dress.” He laughed. “It’s trying to kill me.”

  “I’ll do it.” She reached behind her back and unhooked the single strap that held the rest in place. It fell from her body easily into a tangle at her feet. She wore nothing underneath.

  Vadim stared in open appreciation, his gaze running over all the places she wanted his hands. The brief flash of amusement was now gone from his face and he once again radiated the dangerous power that had first attracted her to him. For the first time it fully sank in that the bright overhead light lit the room and for a second her confidence faltered. Then his eyes met hers and she forgot about the light, forgot about everything.

  He ran his hands lightly over the halo of her hair, sweeping it behind her as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Still with me, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation, no more doubt. Nothing but pure desire and an ache only he could soothe.

  Abruptly, he pushed her down. Caught by surprise, she gasped as she bounced on the bed. Instinctively she closed her legs and then sat up on her elbows.

  He wagged a finger. “No shyness allowed.” He reached for her ankles.

  Lizzie moved them before he could, hooking the heels into the old comforter, knees bent and body on display. A reckless abandon filled her. Giddy with it and intense arousal, she smiled. “What is allowed?”

  His gaze dropped to her feet, then back up to meet hers. “You’re allowed to keep the shoes on.”

  “You like that I’m tall.”

  “I like a lot of things about you. Now shut up, will you? We’ve got better things to do than talk.” He removed his tie, leaving it on the bed. His shirt went to the floor next.

  “Why am I not surprised you’re the bossy type?”

  He unbuttoned his pants and quickly left them with his shirt after removing a condom packet and tossing it near the tie. “Oh, please. Like that’s not exactly what you want.”

  This time when he reached for her ankles, she let him catch them. He knelt at the foot of the bed, pressing a kiss to the top of her right foot, just above one of the shoe straps, and then repeating the gesture on the other foot. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to curb her impatience. He worked his way north with torturous deliberation. His lips were firm and warm on her calves, his fingertips teasing with light touches that barely counted as contact. Once he’d gone as far as he could from his kneeling position, he pushed her legs farther apart and mounted the bed. Her heart hammered, the echo of it loud in her ears.

  She started to speak. He stopped her with a warning look and pressure from his hands on her thighs, just above her knees. She bit her lip and moved her elbows to lay flat on her back, frustration grinding at her nerves. More kisses sprinkled across her thighs, his hands finding the sensitive spots behind her knees.

  Aching with need but refusing to beg, she stifled a moan and gripped the comforter, balling the material with her fists. Vadim angled her legs to plant kisses on the inside of her thighs. She shut her eyes against the bright overhead light. For a few seconds she considered how exposed she was in this light and this position. He raked his stubble across the tender flesh of her inner thigh and she almost forgot to breathe.

  He kissed his way up to the curve of her hip, bypassing the part of her that needed his attention the most. She nearly lost control then, wanting to shout orders and beg for ease at the same time. He covered one hand with his, squeezing her fist in an oddly comforting gesture. Lizzie opened her eyes to find him studying her intently. She took a shuddering breath to calm herself, then relaxed.

  The sensual torture resumed as Vadim ran his fingers lightly over her breasts, the sensation making her skin tingle and tighten. She moved restlessly, wanting his body on hers. Still, he denied her, holding himself just out of reach above her as he dropped kisses on random places. The underside of one breast, the nipple of the other. The hollow of her throat and the sharp ridge of her collarbone. A tight circle around her belly button and a zigzag line down her side. All slow and deliberate and excruciating and filling her with an explosive need.

  Vadim rested beside her, bringing the tie and the condom with him. He loosened her hand from its death grip on the comforter and brought it to his mouth, lips brushing the pulse point at her wrist. Another kiss halfway up her forearm, then in the fold of her elbow and farther up until he reached her neck. His lips hovered at the side of her throat, nuzzling, featherlight, gentle.

  He bit down, hard, catching Lizzie completely off guard. She cried out. Arousal so intense it hurt sent shock waves through her body. “Please,” she whispered.

  Vadim took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “What was that, Red?”

  She struggled to focus on his face. He’d heard her, all right. He knew what she wanted, too, but he was going to make her ask for it.

  Unmoored in this strange place of giving up the driver’s seat, Lizzie didn’t know how to put the jumbled images in her head into words. Instead she said, “I’m used to being the one in control.”

  “I know.” He watched her, inscrutable.

  Lizzie faltered, on the verge of changing her mind about the whole thing. For years she’d taken care to never get involved with a Magic Born in any way, lest they discover the truth about her. She’d wrapped herself in barriers of ice and layers of careful restraint, held herself at arm’s length from anyone who might see past it. Nobody got a glimpse behind the curtain. Nobody. Until Vadim burned it down around her with a spell and his dark eyes. Since that moment, had the old rules really mattered?

  “That’s
not what I want tonight. With you.”

  “I know that too,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you did.” He lowered his body to meet hers and kissed her. The crush of muscle and bone pressed her deeper into the bed. His skin on hers—finally—was a rough, silken pleasure. She surrendered to his mouth, letting him take what he wanted. It broke a lock inside her—one of many, but still, it was a start.

  His tongue caressed hers as his hand traveled down her body. Taking his time, continuing to stoke the slow burn that engulfed her. His lips molded hers. His hand shaped her breast. Moaning, she arched into him, wanting to be closer still. His gentle touches took on a bite as he pinched one nipple, then the other, nipping at her skin with his teeth. She tried to angle her body to grind against the heavy erection pressing into the cradle of her pelvis, but he used his weight to keep her still. She bucked, a growl slipping out.

  Vadim rolled to the side. “Since you can’t seem to make up your mind, I think we need to do something to help you remember just what it is you want from me tonight.” He held up the tie, his intent clear in the set of his face.

  Bondage had never been part of her sex life. Letting someone restrain her had always been out of the question. Right now, lying next to Vadim, the idea tantalized. She wanted him to break her apart, remake her into something new. Someone who wasn’t afraid of truth and blackmail and the magic that lurked in her own blood.

  She licked her lips, bruised from the force of his kisses, and nodded. “Do it.”

  The bed was narrow, the frame made of decorative iron. The headboard, with its curling floral motif, offered the perfect spot to bind her hands. Lizzie raised her arms and gripped the cool metal bars.

  Vadim cocked his head to one side, curling his lip. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  He sat up and pulled her with him, turning her body to face the headboard. He looped the tie through the metal and took her wrists. In short order he had her bound with just enough room to rest her hands on the inner petal of an iron rose.