Flying Through Fire (Dark Desires)

by Nina Croft

  Suddenly the room seemed much smaller.

  He tried to think of his earlier argument as to why this was a really bad idea, but his thoughts were in chaos.

  Then she was stalking toward him, hips swaying in those tight leather pants, and even the chaos deserted him, leaving his brain a vast expanse of blankness.

  He liked it.

  She’d clearly decided on the straightforward approach. As she closed in, she gripped the hem of her T-shirt and dragged it over her head. Her hair was loose and hung down her back, curling around her breasts so her nipples peeked through. He stood, turned to stone, unable to move. And his dick was the hardest part of him, pulsing, his balls aching.

  His glance strayed to her face. He caught a brief flicker of vulnerability, but then it was gone, replaced by a grim determination. Halting only inches away, she peered down his body, her eyes widening as they snagged on his groin where he was pretty sure his erection must be obvious. Then she reached down, flicked open the button at her waist and wriggled her pants down over her hips. She kicked off her boots, then the pants, and when she straightened, she was naked.

  And so beautiful that his chest ached. Long, slender legs, her hips a smooth curve, glossy sable curls at the junction of her thighs. He took it all in, his mouth going dry, so he swallowed.

  She took a step closer, and he breathed in the sharp, feral tang of werewolf. Then closer still, and the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest, sending tingles zipping along his nerve endings.

  He should do something. Move. But he stood, hands hanging at his side, heart pounding, blood pulsing in his veins.

  Reaching up, she opened the first button on his shirt with trembling fingers—somehow he’d expected her to be more sure of herself—then the next. Her hand slipped inside, touching his skin, and heat rolled through him from that first simple caress. She trailed a finger down over his chest and paused at the waistband of his pants, where she toyed with the fastener until he thought he might explode.

  As she hesitated, he bit down a growl. Her head lifted, and she gazed into his face, her bottom lip caught between sharp white teeth. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  If she’d said the words any earlier, he would have hustled her out of the room so fast. Now it was too late for that. He knew she wasn’t a virgin. She’d told him she’d slept with Drago. Was that her only time—with that slime ball who had forced her, if not physically, then mentally?

  He’d thought her experienced. Christ, one of them needed to be, and he hadn’t been with a woman in longer than he could remember.

  “Kiss me, Thorne.”

  She raised her hands, rested them on his shoulders. She was tall for a woman but only reached his chin, and she had to come up on tiptoes to press her lips against his.

  At that first tentative touch, he lost it completely. Fires roared in his head. His arms came around her and he lifted her, spun her around, and slammed her into the wall behind him, his body pushing up against her, holding her in place, while his mouth hardened on hers and he kissed her. She tasted almost familiar, and he was lost, totally and completely lost. His lips parted hers and he pushed inside. His shirt was open and her bare breasts pressed against his chest, the nipples pebbling against his skin as she writhed in his arms. Her tongue slid along his, twisting as her hands gripped the hair at the back of his neck and held him tighter against her.

  His mind was a whirling vortex of need, every cell intent on only one thing—getting inside her. And fast. She was rubbing up against him, making mewling sounds against his lips. Reaching between their bodies, he slipped a hand between her thighs. His fingers sank into the hot, slick heat of her. She was soaking, and as he pushed a finger inside, she went still in his arms.

  He raised his head and stared down at her as he pushed inside again and the tight muscles contracted around his finger.

  He couldn’t wait. Not a moment longer. He withdrew, his hands fumbling as they unfastened his pants, a groan of relief escaping him as his cock sprang free.

  She might be inexperienced, but her instincts told her exactly what to do. He gripped her ass and she wound her long legs around his waist, pressing her sex against the length of him, wriggling until he was poised at the entrance to her body. Then he filled her with one hard flex of his hips, and the fires in his mind engulfed him.

  …

  The sensation hovered between pleasure and pain. He was so huge and hard and he filled her completely. He’d gone still, and she opened her eyes and stared into his. Fire whirled in their depths. The scent of spice and smoke filled the air between them.

  For what seemed like an eternity, they stared at each other, and inside her wolf awoke and howled. Mine.

  As though he heard, he shook his head, his nostrils flaring, his fingers tightening on her ass. He shifted her slightly, flexed his hips and withdrew, and her wolf howled again. A red mist rose up in front of her, and she lowered her head to the place where his shoulder met his throat, and bit down hard. The skin broke and warm blood flooded her mouth. She heard his indrawn breath, and then he slammed into her again, smashing her back against the wall. But she didn’t care; she wanted him to lose control, as she could feel her own racing away from her. He held her with ease, his inhuman strength pinning her while he pounded into her. Each stroke pushed her higher, as something strange uncoiled inside her. The pleasure took over, mastering her, wrapping her in steel bonds. She was reaching for something; she needed it so badly, and she was almost there… Thorne’s head fell back, he screamed. His eyes opened, and they were whirlpools of crimson flame. The fabric of the ship shuddered, and she held her breath waiting for them to…she had no clue what. But nothing worse happened, and she exhaled as she felt his release inside her. But his hips continued to pump as though he couldn’t stop himself. Finally, he crashed to his knees, dragging her down with him. He landed on his back, still deep inside her, and a ripple went through him.

  “Holy Meridian. No more.”

  He lay not moving, and she raised herself up so she could stare down into his face. His eyes were closed, the lashes shadows on his hard cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted and his breath ragged. She managed to stay motionless for five minutes. She’d waited so long for this. But there had been something missing. She shifted, feeling vaguely…unsatisfied.

  His eyes blinked open. The flames had cooled to flickers of crimson light. His eyes were heavy-lidded, and held a sleepy, sated expression, whereas she felt most unsettled.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s been a long time.”

  How long? With Thorne a long time could mean a really long time. “That’s okay. I—”

  “No, it’s not.” He rolled over so she ended up beneath him, and she felt him slip away, leaving her empty. She was naked, while he was nearly fully clothed. She wanted to see him. If this all went to shit and he disappeared, this might be the only chance she would have and she wanted to make the most of it; she just wasn’t sure how.

  He straightened, coming up on his knees. His hand grabbed her ankle, tugging her around so he knelt in the V formed by her legs. He swiped his tongue over his lower lip, and all the muscles in her belly clenched. His hot hands slid up the inside of her thighs, his palms rough against her skin, opening her farther. Then he lowered his head and kissed her inner thigh as his fingers slid between the folds of her sex, and the world stopped. She’d been leaning on her elbows watching him. Now she collapsed onto her back, staring up at the curved ceiling but seeing nothing. Every single sense turned inward, focused on the feel of his hand between her legs. For someone who was out of practice, he certainly knew what to do. In seconds she was limp and mindless. His fingers were like tongues of flame stroking her, pushing inside, circling the little bundle of nerves until she thought she would go crazy for release. Her hips rose of their own accord, pushing against him, and he slipped his other hand beneath her ass, squeezed her, held her closer, finally concentrating on that one spot where she needed him the mos
t. He stroked her softly, then harder, so the pleasure swelled into a great mass inside her, taut and ready to burst, and she wanted it so badly. At the same time, something told her this would change her forever. She would be his for always, but he wasn’t hers. At the last minute some glimmer of self-preservation made her try to pull away, but he held her too tightly. He massaged her with the pad of his thumb, and she shattered into a thousand tiny, broken parts. Inside, wolf howled, clawed for freedom, so the pleasure mingled with the pain.

  He didn’t let her go but played with her, stroking her, pinching her clit between his finger and thumb, and she came again—a great roll of pleasure that left her in darkness.

  When she came to, she lay on the center of the bed, and Thorne was crawling up her body. She must have been out for a minute as he’d managed to strip his clothes. She was on her back, and he hovered over her like some avenging demon, his face all sharp angles, his eyes glowing, his wings framing his broad shoulders. A shiver of primitive fear prickled across her skin. Had the demons from Earth’s legends come from one such as him? Had his kind visited Earth of old through some wormhole in time? They believed dragons to be evil, so what did that make Thorne?

  She didn’t have a chance to think it through because he was looming over her, lowering himself, and his mouth took hers in a slow, drugging kiss. If the first time had been fast and furious, this was slow and intense. One hand cupped her breast as he kissed her, his thumb rubbing over the nipple, and pleasure spread out in waves from the point of contact. He released her lips and dropped a kiss on her taut peak, his tongue stroking the glistening point. Then he suckled her in his mouth and warm, wet heat flooded her.

  He was hot and hard against her, and now he shifted so the head of his cock nudged at her. Then he pushed in so slowly, everything tingling, still sensitive from her orgasm. This time their lovemaking—and however much Thorne might argue, he was making love to her—was a slow, intense ebb and flow, like the tides, withdrawing only to return to her. Pushing inside, filling her. She lay back, letting the sensations roll through her, swelling until she thought she might float away like a bubble. Thorne held himself above her on one elbow, his wing tips quivering, his whole body shaking with intensity. His other hand slid around her throat, curved into the hair at the back of her neck, his fingers gripping her skull. She stared up into his face as he lowered his head and kissed her, his tongue filling her mouth in rhythm with the flex of his hips. He was pushing her higher with each stroke, and she hardly noticed her orgasm as it rolled over her, just a continuation of a pleasure so deep and all-consuming she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Her whole body was a swirling mass of crimson flame that entwined around her, reaching out, curling around his huge body, holding him to her, burning.

  Deep in her mind she could hear his murmured words, too low to pick up, and she strained to hear him as he released himself inside her, collapsed on her then rolled over and dragged her on top of him, keeping her close as they burned together.

  Finally, the flames cooled, and his grip loosened. Candy didn’t want to move, didn’t want to speak, but she felt closer to him now than to anyone in her life before. And while she hated it, she needed to use that closeness to persuade him to stay.

  She gave herself a moment longer. If she failed, this might be all she would have of him. The thought nearly broke her. She calmed herself, closed her eyes, concentrated on the thud of his heart beneath her cheek. She could feel the whole length of his body against hers, the solid chest, rock hard stomach, the rough hair on his thighs. His palm flattened against her lower back, holding her close.

  It was Thorne who moved in the end, shifting beneath her, so she had no choice but to push herself up…or cling like a pathetic idiot. She wouldn’t do that. She had to appear strong. Thorne had made it clear that he was taking on no more responsibilities, so she had to present herself as someone quite capable of taking care of herself. And strangely, up until recently, she’d been quite certain she was that person; she could look after herself and anyone else who needed it. But the last week or so had shattered her belief in herself. She’d nearly died, had come so close to giving up, and only Thorne had saved her. Now he was giving up, and it was her turn.

  She slid off him and came up on her knees at his side. He pushed himself up so he was half-sitting. His eyes were dazed as his gaze wandered over her, finally resting on her face. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes.

  “Making love with you is like flying through fire.”

  What the hell did that mean? “Is that a good thing?”

  “Good? Mind-blowing, wonderful, unbeatable.” He studied her a while longer, a brooding expression on his face. “And dangerous. Intoxicating.”

  Intoxicating. She liked that. Did it mean he wanted more? Enough to stay?

  “I can see your mind working. Whatever it is you’re scheming, get it over with now. I’d like to make love to you again before I go.” He gave a small smile. “And time is running out.”

  Bastard. He obviously knew exactly what she was going to say. Had he read her mind? Could he? He’d definitely been inside her head that day he had saved her. Was he in there now, seeing her deepest thoughts?

  I love you.

  Not a flicker of response, no fear flashing in his eyes that she was going to go all soppy and serious on him.

  You have the biggest, most beautiful cock I have ever seen.

  Nope. Still no response. So she was guessing he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, read her mind right now. She glanced down at his cock to give herself time to think how to move next. It was actually a beautiful cock, thick, flaring at the head, the skin silky. She swiped her tongue over her lower lip, and it twitched.

  Wow.

  She licked again. It twitched again, and his hips shifted.

  Then she shook her head. She didn’t know how much time she had. She’d better get on with it.

  “Stay,” she murmured. “Help us.”

  “No.”

  Her face fell.

  “But you could come with me if you like.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Thorne didn’t know where the words came from. He’d had no intention of taking anyone with him. His days of responsibility were over. But then again, he didn’t need to be responsible for Candy. Hell, she’d told him enough times that she was capable of looking after herself. It wasn’t as though she was some weak, pathetic human who needed protecting. She was a werewolf.

  Still, he didn’t want her to get any ideas. “Not forever or anything. But we could travel together for a while.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him. “Really? Could we? That’s so generous of you.” Her tone was saccharine sweet. “Thanks for the wonderful, heartfelt offer, but no thanks.”

  He hadn’t been expecting that. She’d always wanted him. Now she’d had him, and she didn’t want him anymore?

  Right now, his body felt sated, at peace, better than he could ever remember, and he wanted more of that. How the hell had he gone without sex for so long?

  But even as the question ran through his mind, he admitted, to himself at least, that this was about more than sex. That’s why he had resisted her for so long. The new Thorne wanted it to be about sex, because then he didn’t really have to care that she had said no. If it was nothing but sex, then there were other women out there in the universe. Plenty of them.

  He couldn’t even imagine it.

  She pushed herself away from him, off the bed and onto her feet. She was naked, totally naked, and the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

  But she was radiating hostility.

  He watched warily as she paced the room, seemingly unbothered by her lack of clothes. Was that a werewolf thing?

  He wished he could be as unbothered, but his dick was already twitching again. Keeping an eye on her, he got to his feet, grabbed his pants from the floor, and pulled them on.

  She turned from her pacing, scowled when she saw him, and moved to stand
in front of him, hands on her hips. Magnificent.

  “How can you even think of running away?”

  “I’m not running away.” He kept his tone reasonable; she felt as volatile as an unstable blaster right now, ready to go off at any moment. “I’m just going to go do something different.” He’d try one more time. “Why not come with me? Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

  The tension seemed to drain from her, and her shoulders drooped. Turning away from him, she scooped up her pants from the floor and pulled them on. She searched until she found the white vest top hanging off the end of the bed, dragged that over her head. Then sat on the bed and pulled on her boots.

  He grabbed his own shirt and put it on, not wanting to be at a disadvantage, then his boots and he was ready to go.

  She was still perched on the edge of the bed. He kept his gaze away from her face because he didn’t want to see her defeat. She’d always been so strong, and he needed her to be strong now so he could walk away without feeling guilty.

  Not my responsibility.

  “I get it,” she said. “You’re turning your back on us because you’re afraid to lose anyone else. But you’ll lose us anyway. And when you come to your stupid senses, you’ll realize that. Only it will be too late and we’ll all be dead, and you’ll be eaten up with guilt.”

  He wanted to deny it, but something kept the words inside.

  He tried to imagine Candy dead and his mind would not cooperate.

  A faint glimmer of some emotion wormed its way inside the barriers he’d erected.

  But he didn’t want to feel.

  He turned away, and he sensed rather than saw her get to her feet and come toward him.

  “I love you.” The words were almost a whisper and at first he thought they were a figment of his imagination.

  He didn’t want her love. He swallowed. Why would she tell this to him now? Just to keep him here? He didn’t believe the words, but he had to shore up those barriers with everything inside him.