Prince of Fire: Black Phoenix, Book 1

by Tawny Taylor

  “Has the killer found us already?”

  “No. We’re safe. At least for now.” His gaze met hers. “I’d like to take a shower now. Wash off the rest of the dirt and blood.”

  “Sure.” She brushed past him, her body reacting to his nearness with a surge of heat. “This way. I’ll show you where everything is.” She paused, even though she knew lingering in that position—with him standing so close—would make her melt. “Thank you for getting breakfast.”

  He crowded her and something flickered in his eyes. A dark spark that ignited a blaze in her body. “You’re welcome.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it until her gaze met his. “Maybe you’d like to take a shower with me.”

  That was no question. It was a challenge, the kind she didn’t have the strength or willpower to back away from.

  Chapter Ten

  Things sure did happen fast when one was in the same room with Talen. Less than a dozen stuttering heartbeats ago, Keri had been standing in a hallway, motioning toward the bathroom at the end of the corridor. Now she was bouncing down said hallway, flung over the shoulder of a man who made her knees wobble and her heart bang against her ribcage. And a pair of hands that did the most amazing, naughty things to her body was holding her. One rested on her fanny. The other gripped her leg, strong fingers curled around her ankle.

  Not only did she feel giddy and weightless but also unbelievably aroused. Again. She couldn’t ever remember being so freaking horny. This was insanity.

  Wicked. Thrilling. Naughty craziness.

  Down the hallway her captor glided, his body moving with a strength and fluid grace that reminded her of a jungle cat. The bathroom door was open so he strolled inside, cranked on the shower, then, finally, set her on her feet.

  She reached for him, catching his arms to steady herself. She glanced up.

  Total headrush.

  He smiled.

  She practically fell over. It was odd, how her body reacted to him. So intensely it was almost violent, not quite painful but verging on agony. All it took for her to fall apart was a look from him. That particular look, where one side of his mouth was curled up into a lopsided smile and feral hunger flickered in his dark eyes. He made her feel feminine, attractive, sexy, and a little vulnerable, but in a very good way.

  Steam wafted over the top of the glass shower door, creating a magical, sultry world of damp heat. Her skin felt hot and cold at the same time, prickly and uber-sensitive.

  His gaze slowly wandered down her body. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stood there, hard and hot and tempting, and looked at her as if he was trying to decide what to do with her next.

  She knew what she wanted him to do with her. Just like she knew what she wanted to do with him.

  She stood there, battling silently between the urge to throw herself at him, or turn tail and run away. Something. It was strange just staying put, not moving, not doing anything.

  Weird but also really sexy.

  She felt like he was holding her captive. Not with ropes. Or with chains. But with his eyes. And much to her shock, she liked the way she felt right now, despite the sense of powerlessness.

  There were a lot of scenarios she’d secretly fantasized about. Movie scenes that had curled her hair. Television series that had inspired her to whip out the battery-operated devices and put them to use. Books that made her dream about things she’d never in a million years consider trying.

  But not once had she ever thought any kind of submission was sexy. Until now.

  Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was standing there, still as a statue, because he had told her to. With his eyes. And that little bit of power she’d handed him gave her such a rush, the juices were seeping from her pussy so hot and fast the insides of her thighs were slick.

  “Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

  She complied, her gaze fixed to his as she stripped off each piece. With every inch of skin she exposed, the fire in his eyes grew darker and more violent. It was the most amazing sight.

  Before she realized it, she was completely nude, trembling.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze returning to her face. He walked a slow circle around her, and she literally felt him as he moved out of her peripheral vision. Her skin zapped and stung. She heard the whir of the vanity drawer open. Bottles and jars rattle. The pop of a lid being opened. “Your face. Your shoulders.” He now stood directly behind her. A lubricated fingertip traced the slope of her shoulder blade, and a quiver raced down her spine. “Your back. Your ass.” That finger followed her spine, leaving a path or goose pumps behind. Down it went, to the dip between her ass cheeks.

  She struggled to stand. Her breathing had grown so fast and deep, it sounded like she’d just sprinted a marathon. The breathy echo bounced off the tile and glass, making it that much louder.

  “Have you ever taken a man here?” His finger slid deeper, teased her anus.

  “No. Never.” She’d always been too afraid to let a man try. She’d seen it in porn movies. Pictures. It looked way too painful to even think about.

  Until now.

  Ohmygod, how amazing it felt to have that fingertip teasing, dipping into her hole. Would it be that much more amazing if it was his cock? Or pure hell?

  She needed to find out.

  He groaned. “You see how unkind you are? How cruel, to give me so many sweet gifts, like this, and refuse mine.” His finger slowly worked deeper into her ass as she fought to relax, suddenly desperate to be filled.

  “I’m not trying…”

  “You don’t have to.” He thrust his finger deeper, and she practically fell to her knees. As if he sensed her legs were about to give out, he slid his other hand around her waist. Fingers splayed over her lower stomach while his arm supported her weight.

  Now, she was even more powerless, completely at his mercy. He held her firmly. In place. While he worked a second lubricated finger into her anus.

  The sensitive skin burned. She tightened, her body fighting against the invasion. The hand on her stomach slid lower, over her mound, between her legs. He found her clit.

  “You want me to take you like this. You crave a powerful lover. I sensed it the moment I saw you.”

  “How?” she heard herself whisper.

  “You have the eyes of a submissive. The heart of one too. And your body…mmmmmm…” The second finger slipped past the tight ring of muscles and she was full. Wonderfully, exquisitely full. “It hungers for the chance to surrender to a strong lover.”

  She could buy that right now.

  He gently moved his fingers inside her, scissoring them to test her and she enjoyed every second. More than she ever would have guessed. Fleeting flickering blazes danced through her body. This was such a mind-blowing moment, erotic. In a dark, slightly unnerving way. Sensual.

  He pulled his fingers out, and she whimpered, turning to face him. He pulled her close, cupped her ass. “Time to stop. We’re going to run out of hot water. After you wash me, then you will receive what you’ve been waiting for.”

  She would never—ever!—admit it aloud, but the way he’d said that part about washing him made her all quivery and hot inside. Even more than his promise to deliver what she was waiting for.

  Why did a command from this man seem so sexy when any other man making such a bold suggestion would produce icicles?

  No time to ponder such insignificant things. She was being pushed gently under a stream of hot water. The beat of the drops on her back and head felt wonderful. So did the sensation of Talen’s hands gliding over her head and shoulders as he gathered her wet hair in his fist and tugged.

  He forced her around until she faced the spray. Now he stood behind her, one hand still knotted in her hair, the other sliding down her side, fingers pressing into her skin. “You amaze me. In so many ways. Your body, of course. But also your mind. Your spirit. Your soul.” He tugged on her hair, forcing her to tip her head
back and to one side. And then, taking advantage of his position, he looped his arm around her waist, dragging her against him. His hard cock pressed against her back, and the image of that thick length sliding into her pussy flashed through her mind.

  Her tissues pulsed with heat. Pleasant warmth suffused every inch of her body, from the soles of her feet to the top of her scalp.

  Her hands burned with the need to touch him. To feel his slick skin gliding beneath her fingertips. But as she reached behind her, he caught her wrists and jerked them together to clench them in one steel-fisted grip.

  “Don’t move unless I tell you,” he murmured in her ear.

  She gasped, nodded, secretly thrilled with the game they were playing. He was her captor, a fierce warrior, commanding her every move. She was the maiden. Most definitely in distress, but not the kind you’d read about in a fairytale.

  He placed her wrists on her buttocks, tapping them. Then, he released them, and she left them where he’d placed them, understanding his cue.

  “Turn and face me, sweet Keri.”

  She turned, the water once again pounding on her back. Now facing him, she admired every inch of skin she saw. She’d thought it before, but wow, a man couldn’t be more perfectly formed, beautifully proportioned than this one. Despite the old scar and the new cuts and bruises he’d acquired fighting her killer, he was a living, breathing work of art. And as someone who appreciated art in its many forms, she couldn’t help but become totally mesmerized by the sight.

  Those shoulders.

  That stomach!

  His legs.

  Butt. Mmmm.

  He scooped up the soap. “Your hands.”

  She held them in front of her.

  “Palms up.”

  She flipped them over, and he placed the soap in her palm.

  “Wash me.”

  She gazed down at the blue bar, then at the expanse of smooth skin and smiled. What a treat! But where to begin.

  Undecided, she glanced at his face.

  With his eyes, he indicated lower.

  His chest then? She reached, but he stopped her. “No.”

  Ooooh. His cock? She reached, but he stopped her again, “No, Keri. Lower. Get on your knees. Wash my feet.” He braced his hands against the walls and lifted one foot about six inches into the air.

  She lowered herself to her knees, positioning herself so the water was beating her on the back, and lathered her hands. The crisp scent of the soap filled the enclosed area as she smoothed her hands over his foot, working the bubbles along the sole, over the toes, around the heel.

  It was a bizarre experience. Humbling and yet sensual too.

  Intimate.

  She’d never thought about it before—how infrequently one comes in contact with other people’s feet. She couldn’t recall the last time she had.

  If anyone had told her a week ago she’d be kneeling in a shower, washing a man’s feet, she would have laughed. Strange, the twists and turns her life had taken.

  When she finished both his feet, she glanced up to gauge his reaction. He had his head thrown back, and fat droplets of water fell from his hair. More water streamed down his chest, the water from the showerhead falling in big drops, striking his skin and bursting into zillions of smaller droplets.

  As she watched, caught up in the moment, he lifted his head to glance down at her. “More.”

  The words, yes master, popped into her head, but she didn’t utter them. She wasn’t a submissive, and he wasn’t a Dom. They were just two people enjoying a short time together, sharing an experience she knew she’d never forget. She hoped he wouldn’t either.

  She went for the soap again, worked up a thick, fragrant lather then washed his ankles, calves, knees, thighs. While she worked, she noticed everything about the parts she was touching. His legs were smooth, shaven like a swimmer or bodybuilder. She hadn’t noticed that before. His calves had the most amazing definition when he flexed his foot. He had a scar on one knee, a deep red, jagged line that ran diagonally across the front. His thighs were also strong, defined, heavily muscled. And the insides were extremely sensitive. He flinched when she touched him there, and his cock jumped. He groaned, and the sound vibrated through her body like an electrical charge.

  “Don’t stop,” he demanded.

  More soap.

  Now, she was at his testicles. She touched them shyly at first, unsure whether he wanted her to go there yet or not. He didn’t stop her, so she grew bolder, massaging them with her soapy hands, cupping them, weighing them. She slipped her fingertips between his ass cheeks, smoothing some soap around his anus then resoaped her hands and went for his cock.

  He stopped her this time. “No.”

  Party pooper.

  She gave him a playful pout but he simply shook his head.

  “More,” he demanded again.

  She went back to work, washing his glorious stomach—picture-perfect washboard abs—his lean hips and perfectly rounded butt, his strong back, chest and shoulders. Arms that bulged with heavy muscle when he flexed, hands that performed magic on her body with every stroke. Neck. Hair—shaggy layers that framed his face. So sexy. So perfect.

  He closed his eyes as she worked some lavender-scented shampoo into his hair. She kissed his nose. His cheek. His long eyelashes. Finally, he rinsed. Smiled. Took the soap from her, scrubbed it between his hands and reached for his cock.

  She watched, shamelessly captivated, as he stroked his length, the soap lubricating his hands. Up and down, slowly, his fingers curling over the head before moving to the base again. Finally, he gently pushed past her and rinsed off, head to toe.

  Stepping out of the spray, he motioned to her. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Oooh, was he going to wash her? How fun! “Okay.” She closed her eyes, widened her stance when he nudged her ankles, and let her head fall back as he explored every single inch of her body. Breasts. Armpits. Neck. Stomach. Legs. Pussy. He lathered her slowly, meticulously, caressing her all over, not missing an inch. She had never been so thoroughly touched. Felt so pampered. Ached for release so badly.

  “I want you,” she admitted when he stopped. She blinked open her eyes as he directed her into the spray, ran his hands over her breasts, pressed his hard body against her back. Her head dropped back again, this time resting on his strong chest, and she groaned. Such ecstasy. Such frustration.

  He reached around her and cut off the water, and dazed, she staggered out of the enclosure, swiping a towel off the counter. Behind her, she heard Talen get out as well, and she grabbed a towel for him, twisting to hand it to him over her shoulder.

  “Thank you.” Instead of taking the towel from her, he grabbed her wrist and yanked, and she stumbled around, tumbling into his arms with a surprised squeal.

  He caught her up in his arms, scooping her off her feet, and carted her out of the bathroom. A quick right, and they were in the spare bedroom. A single heartbeat later she was bouncing on the bed, on her back, looking up at a man who was clearly ready to gobble her up.

  She was most definitely game to be gobbled.

  In fact, if he didn’t pounce upon her and take her right this minute, she was going to do something desperate. Yes, a hot shower tended to warm her up, but that shower had done a lot more warming than any had before.

  Thankfully, he did exactly what she hoped. No fooling around. He settled between her spread legs and thrust deep inside her, and oh it was heaven to have him filling her at last.

  Beneath him, she let her heavy eyelids fall closed and concentrated on the wonderful sensations playing through her body. The glorious friction deep within her as he slowly glided in and out of her tight sheath. The thrumming beat pounding in her chest. The tingly burn that followed his every touch, stroke, caress. The taste of him in her mouth as she opened her lips to let his tongue inside. His lovemaking was a complete claiming. He took and took and took, and she willingly gave and gave and gave, allowing him to possess her as thoroughly as he wi
shed.

  Their fucking started at a slow, languid pace but quickly changed. His thrusts came faster, his movements sharper, harder. His touches firmer. Strokes became grabs, pinches, taps. Kisses became nips, bites, hard suckles.

  But her body rejoiced in the change as it carried her away, to a magical place where sensations blended until she could no longer tell one from another, until her body was tight, trembling, on the verge of tumbling over the crest of a mighty mountain.

  “Let me fuck you,” Talen whispered, slamming into her pussy one final time before withdrawing. “Here.” His finger slipped into her anus, stretching the tight ring of muscles.

  A pulse of feverish wanting throbbed through her. “Yes.”

  She’d never let a man take her there. Never had even imagined doing so. But now she couldn’t not do it. He wanted it, and she wanted what he did. It was as if their minds, their souls, and not just their bodies, were joined as one.

  He helped her over onto her stomach, dragged some pillows to prop her upper body up, grasped her hips and spread some of her juices over her anus. “I’ll go slowly, and I’ll stop if you tell me.”

  “Okay.” A shudder swept through her body. She clamped her eyes closed and concentrated on relaxing from the waist down.

  Burning. Pain. She couldn’t help tightening. It was a reflex.

  “You need to relax.”

  Easy for him to say.

  “If you can’t, think about pushing against me, rather than keeping me out.”

  Push against. That might work. She clamped her eyes closed and concentrated, applying gentle pressure out as he pressed to gain entry and slowly, she felt her muscles open. The head of his cock slipped inside.

  She gasped but didn’t ease up.

  “Yes.” His voice was a deep growl. Throaty. Sexy. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her hips. “Oh yes.” He pushed gently, and slowly more of him inched inside her, filling her. “Touch your pussy.”

  Now trembling and on the verge of either passing out from sensation overload or exploding from a supersonic orgasm like none she’d ever experienced, she reached between her legs, found her clit and began circling over it with an index finger moistened with her own juices.