Kings of the Fire Box Set

by Lily Cahill

  When she turned around, Damien was close. Dangerously close. There was only an inch of space separating their bodies, and when she breathed in, she could feel her breasts push against his chest. Her body ached, remembering the way he had held her up, the way she’d wrapped her legs around him, and—

  She shook her head. This wasn’t the time.

  “You’re here,” she breathed.

  “You asked me to come,” he answered.

  It was the perfect thing to say, the only thing she wanted to hear. Even after everything that had happened, all the misunderstandings—he had answered her call, had believed her and trusted her with his safety.

  Better judgment insisted it was the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong everything, but Felicity couldn’t stop herself. She pushed herself up onto her toes and found his mouth with her own, a gentle press of lips. It was everything she wanted to say—I’m sorry and I missed you and please forgive me and please save her.

  Damien, however, didn’t appear to be satisfied with that. As she began to pull away, he chased after her, pushing her back up against the door, pinning her there with the strength of his body. His hands drifted up her sides, fingers hot against her, and she arched her back to be closer to him.

  His mouth left searing kisses against her collarbone, her neck. He panted against the shell of her ear, “Can you forgive me?”

  She was fairly certain she could forgive anything so long as he agreed to keep doing that.

  Those same clever fingers crept back down her body, bunching her skirt so it rose up her thighs, higher and higher. All functioning seemed to leave Felicity’s brain. She needed more. More of his hands on her, more of his mouth, more of the hardness she could feel against her belly.

  Is this really the time, a snide voice in the back of her head murmured.

  Felicity swallowed thickly, her desire a raging inferno inside of her. He was still so close, all of him against all of her, his fingers teasing very wicked things against the inside of her thighs, but she turned her head away and took in a ragged gasp.

  “Stop,” she said.

  Instantly, his ministrations stilled. “Felicity?”

  “This isn’t about—it can’t be about this, not right now. Joy—my sister—she needs—”

  She could feel Damien’s chest, heaving against her own, and she wanted to pull him in closer until they blurred together and were one. She was grateful, however, when he took a step back instead.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low. “I saw you and I—”

  “Don’t apologize. I did, too.” She motioned to her rumpled skirt. “I mean, obviously.”

  A smile curled in the corner of his mouth. His beautiful, beautiful mouth. Felicity tried and failed not to think of it.

  “I saw your press conference. If there’s anything I can do ….” He ran a hand through his black hair, rumpling it. His gorgeous, thick black hair, that looked so good for grabbing.

  This whole not-thinking-about-it thing was easier said than done.

  “We’ll get Dr. Chen. That’s Joy’s physician. She can tell us what to do. I don’t think anyone expected us to have any sort of luck in finding help. Thank you so much for coming, I can’t explain what it means to me.”

  Her arms disobeyed her direct orders and flung themselves around Damien, drawing him close once again. He moved to cradle her closer, and for the first time since she’d gotten that awful call two days ago, Felicity felt safe.

  “You don’t have to explain anything. I understand. And I’m hoping once things have calmed down a little, you will let me show you just how sorry I am for the way things ended between us the other evening.”

  Damien’s voice was close to her ear once again, low and sexy. It made a shiver run directly down her spine, making her want to press her legs together.

  “I’d like that,” she whispered.

  Dr. Chen stared at Damien, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. “So, you’re a dragon shifter?”

  “Yes,” Damien said. He stared back, unflinching, and Felicity reached over to grab his hand with hers, giving it a squeeze.

  “I thought all the dragon shifters died out the night of the coup.” Dr. Chen sounded clinical. Damien held Felicity’s hand in a death grip. “Forgive me if I sound insensitive, I don’t mean to,” the doctor continued. “But I don’t want to get Miss Morningstar’s hopes up for a miracle cure. The texts we’re basing this off of are a century old, and we have no way of knowing if this will really work, even if you are a real dragon shifter.”

  “I can shift for you now, if you want.”

  That seemed to impress Dr. Chen, at least a little. “That won’t be necessary. I have the translation of the potion we need to brew. The medi-witches have already begun the process. Dragon’s blood is the final ingredient, so if I could go ahead and draw some from you now ….”

  Damen held out his arm, a defiant look in his eye. “Do it.”

  “Certainly.”

  She pulled out a hypodermic needle and some tubing, as well as a vial. Felicity glanced away as Dr. Chen pushed it into Damien’s vein. She had no problem with frog’s legs and insect wings or any of the innumerable disgusting things required in potions making. Blood, however, was something that always turned her stomach.

  “There,” Dr. Chen said a moment later. She capped the vial. “The potion won’t be at the final stage for several more hours, but when it is, I will let you know. Are there any other questions you have, or anything else you need?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “Then I suggest going home. Your vigil is very impressive, Miss Morningstar, but we should have some real answers for you soon, and there’s no need to worry by Joy’s bedside. You’ve been here two days straight. Go home, get changed, get some rest.”

  Dr. Chen stood and left the room, closing the door behind her to give them some privacy.

  It was nearly over. Everything was almost done. Relief coursed through Felicity’s veins, making her want to cry. It felt like she had been fighting for Joy’s life for much longer than two days. Soon, her sister would be awake, would be happy. And when she was well enough, she was going straight to rehab, whether the family liked the publicity or not.

  If she was going to be in charge of the Valdez family, then she was going to start acting like it.

  With the relief came an overwhelming exhaustion that Felicity had not before let herself feel. It had seemed selfish, to want to sleep when Joy may never wake up, when there had to be a way to find a cure and to fix things. She’d done all she could, and now the adrenaline was gone from her body, leaving only forty-eight hours with minimal sleep behind.

  Felicity closed her eyes and took a deep, soothing breath.

  “You should go home,” Damien said, gentle. He reached out to stroke her face, and Felicity leaned into his touch. “You’ve done so much. You have to be tired.”

  “I am,” she admitted. His fingers were rough against her soft skin, and she liked the difference.

  “I’ll call a car for you, if you want.”

  She reached up and caught his hand in hers. “You’ll come with me, won’t you? I don’t want you to leave again.”

  He smiled, a small thing, but it made her heart sing. “If you want.”

  “I want.”

  Damien fished in his pocket and pulled out his phone, grimacing with he looked at the screen. “Shit.” He tilted the phone so she could see how many missed calls and texts he had. “I didn’t talk to my brothers before coming here. I knew they’d be upset if they knew what I was planning. We were all scared that you would ….”

  “Your brothers?” Shock went through her. Were all the Dragomirs alive? “They’re … here?”

  Damien nodded. “They were worried you were planning to reveal all of us.”

  “I would have thought the same thing,” she reassured him.

  “I saw the broadcast of your press conference, and I knew that I’d been a fool. You swore to
protect those coming forward, and it felt like you were talking directly to me. Everything felt so true, and I just … came straight here. Flew, walked, ran. Anything to get to you.” He leaned in to press a kiss to her mouth, and she felt his words melting inside of her.

  “Your brothers are safe. I’d never hurt them,” she said, practically whispering. “And I will make sure that no one in my family does, either. The Dragomirs have nothing to fear from the Valdez family, not anymore. I promise you.”

  Damien stood, pulling her to her feet. She felt shaky like a newborn colt. Having the relief of the cure so close made her feel relaxed, loose, and so, so tired. It made her want to act irrationally like—like telling Damien that she loved him.

  But that was crazy, wasn’t it?

  “Call your brothers, let them know that you’re safe. I’ll call a cab while you do that.” She took a step closer. “And then we can go to my place and … apologize to one another?”

  His smile was wolfish. “I’d like that.”

  The cab arrived before Damien’s phone call was over. Felicity tried not to listen in; she didn’t want to pry, but it was impossible not to overhear at least a little bit of the conversation. It was also impossible not to realize that it wasn’t going very well.

  “—know what I’m doing,” Damien hissed into the phone. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. This is for the best.” A pause. “Of course you’re all safe! I would never do anything to jeopardize your safety, you know that. I’m—I’m done talking about this. We are done discussing it. Goodbye, Arryn.”

  His shoulders were tense. They’d moved outside to wait by the curb, which was not the most discreet location. Damien’s harsh whispering was starting to draw attention. Felicity stepped closer to him and laid a soft hand on his back, just to remind him that she was still there. He relaxed under her touch, and it warmed her heart.

  He hung up the phone and turned to her with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. It wasn’t, completely. She hated to think that Damien’s family didn’t like her, but she couldn’t exactly blame them for their reluctance. They thought she was the overweight, party girl daughter of the man who had staged the coup that killed their parents. “We’ll win them over eventually. We have time.”

  Felicity flushed scarlet at her own words. We have time.

  They rang so true to her. They had all the time in the world to figure this out, to make this right. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone but him, ever again. But still—it was so soon. She couldn’t be sure he was feeling the same way she was.

  The smile on his face seemed to suggest otherwise. He nodded and leaned in to give her a soft, lingering kiss. “Time,” he said, the word mumbled against her mouth.

  Goose bumps raced up her arms. Being around him was like touching a live wire. It woke up everything inside of her, made her feel like she was made of electricity.

  The cab driver honked, ruining the moment. Damien pulled back, his skin heating under her hands as he growled. He was in control, not in danger of shifting, but she loved these little moments when she could feel his strength, his power. This second side of him that was so secret, that only she knew about. It thrilled her.

  “You two coming or what?”

  Damien muttered, “Shortly, I hope,” and startled a laugh out of her.

  He smirked at her, dark and sultry, and pulled her toward the cab, opening the back door for her. She gave her address as she settled in, surprised when Damien swung his way into the car and sat directly next to her, in the middle seat.

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing, yet.”

  The cab pulled away from the curb and pulled into the main street. It wasn’t far to The Witch’s Brew—only a couple of miles. There were advantages to living in a smaller community.

  Felicity felt like she hadn’t seen her shop in a thousand years. Time always stretched during the worst moments, and these past couple days with Joy in the hospital certainly counted as that. She found herself excited to see it, to stand behind the counter in her ugly uniform and brew new potions for the ones that were depleted and bake some scones and—

  Not that she’d have time to do all that while she was running the magical world.

  If she took her rightful place, she’d be the Supreme Leader—maybe more of a figurehead than anything else, but still someone with great influence and responsibilities. She couldn’t do that and run a silly little coffee shop.

  But she loved her silly little coffee shop. She loved the way it smelled, and the way it was entirely hers. Her heart climbed up her throat when she considered giving it up. She’d have to, of course she would. And she didn’t regret the decision to take up her father’s mantle because it had saved Joy. It had brought her Damien.

  She just wished she could have all that and The Witch’s Brew, too.

  The hand on her knee abruptly cut off her train of thought. Felicity startled and then looked at Damien, who was staring straight ahead. His face looked completely neutral as his hand dipped below the hem of her knee-length skirt and began to go higher, higher.

  She could feel the rough pads of his fingers on the delicate skin of her inner thighs, leaving blazing hot trails as they climbed. She tried not to squirm, but it was difficult. Her insides felt molten with sudden arousal. All of her worries seemed to vanish as she waited for him to go a little higher and touch her right—

  There.

  Felicity sucked in a deep breath as he brushed the edge of her panties, his touch deliberately slow and teasing. She could feel herself growing wetter with anticipation, dampening the fabric there. Without her permission, her knees fell open, giving him easier access. He traced over her lips, his touch feather-light. She bit her lip to keep back a moan of frustration.

  His clever, clever fingers pushed aside her panties and traced the slit of her sex. Felicity shuddered and glanced at him again. He was still so cool, so collected, his face forward. If she wasn’t very aware of what he was doing to her, she’d never suspect it.

  She couldn’t manage that same cool façade. His fingers circled her clit, and she sucked in a breath quickly—too quickly. Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but their driver had his eyes on the road. She relaxed ever so slightly, only to tense again when she felt one of Damien’s fingers dip inside of her.

  Felicity felt hot all over, and yet she was practically shivering. His finger pulled out and pushed back in once, twice, three times—and then was joined by a second. He quickened his pace ever so slightly. Her arousal built quickly, curling just at the base of her spine, begging for more, for him to touch her there—there—so that she could ….

  Propriety be damned. Felicity couldn’t help herself. She let her head fall back against the seat, her breath picking up. She wanted to come, to break again and again over Damien’s fingers, to sob out his name. She could feel the crescendo coming, nearly there, and barely contained the whine that wanted to be released from her throat.

  There were cool lips on her cheek, and then Damien withdrew his fingers.

  “We’re nearly there,” he murmured, his voice hot in her ear.

  The beautiful climax faded just as quickly as it had arisen, and Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to reach over, unclasp his pants, and chase that sweet pleasure once more.

  She opened her eyes and glared at him. “What was that?”

  Leaning into her space, Damien gave her a brief, chaste peck on the lips. “A preview.”

  The cab pulled to a stop, the driver turning around. “That’ll be $12.50. Cash or credit?”

  Felicity opened up her purse and blindly threw bills at the man, practically pushing Damien out onto the sidewalk in her haste. There was no time to lose. She’d loved the preview, but she wanted—no, needed—to see the full show.

  They stumbled up the stairs to the apartment above The Witch’s Brew, discarding clothes as they went. Felicity
lost her shoes on the steps. Damien tore her skirt off of her as she fumbled with the key to the door, an unearthly sounding growl in his throat.

  It made her entire body tingle to hear it. This man—this gorgeous, powerful man—was entirely at her mercy. It was delicious. She shrugged off her shirt, throwing it across the room as soon as they were over the threshold.

  Instantly, Damien’s hands were on her, tracing lightly over her skin. He turned her so that she was facing him, and she was unhappy to see that he was still mostly dressed. His shirt was unbuttoned and hanging loosely over his perfect body, highlighting his abs and the dark smattering of hair that led down to his unbuttoned jeans.

  The bulge of his erection was obvious, and just looking at it made Felicity’s mouth water. She wanted to pull him out, touch him, feel the hardness sheathed in silky-smooth skin. The only problem was that it was impossible to decide how she wanted him—if she wanted him to fall apart in her hands, or her mouth, or inside of her ….

  It all sounded so good, and even if they had time, she wasn’t sure she had the patience.

  All thoughts fled from her mind as Damien stepped in close, erasing the distance between them. His hands moved up, up, up her arms, to her shoulders, following the curve of her collarbone to the swell of her breasts. He slid the silky straps of her bra off her shoulders then pulled down at the cups, revealing her breasts.

  He stared at her like she was a feast and he hadn’t eaten in days. Before she could ask if she should just go ahead and remove the bra, he’d dipped his head down and licked at her nipple, sending a fissure of heat straight to her core. She threw her head back, crying out as he sucked and licked, only leaving one breast once the nipple was peaked.

  His hands went around to her ass, squeezing. One hand moved forward to rub briefly over her sex, and he rumbled with pleasure when he felt how soaking wet she was. Without moving his mouth away from her breast, he dipped his finger beneath the elastic of her panties and pulled, ripping them away from her body.

  Felicity wanted to shake, to scream, to do anything, but her head felt like it was no longer attached to her body. She was comprised of pure need, pure want, and Damien was the cure for all of it. He moved his mouth away from her breasts, going to his knees and leaving a trail of hot kisses down her belly, tracing the softness there with his tongue. He made her feel like every part of herself was gorgeous.