Hot Spell

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by Lisabet Sarai


  Chapter Four

  “How did you find out?”

  Sylvie and Aidan sat opposite one another, across a table littered with dirty dishes. The meal had been more substantial and appealing than Aidan had promised. He’d augmented the chilli con carne with wholegrain bread, chocolate chip cookies and red wine from a box on the shelf above the stove. Sylvie was full as well as a bit tipsy.

  “More wine?” Aidan seemed to ignore her question.

  “No, thanks, I’ve had more than enough. But tell me—please. I’ve never heard of a Fire Elemental.”

  Aidan leant back in his chair and sighed. “All the time I was growing up, I felt…different. There were things I could do… At the same time, I was limited in some ways. I couldn’t read books unless I wore leather gloves. Otherwise, the paper would char. I couldn’t swim. Even with my head above water, I couldn’t really breathe. I was an only child. My mom died when I was born and my dad… Well, I guess at some level he blamed me. Anyway, I lived a pretty solitary life until I met Alisa…”

  He trailed off, obviously beset by painful memories.

  “I’m sorry. Forget I asked. I should mind my own business.”

  “No, no—you should know. I want you to know.” He squared his shoulders and leant forwards, skewering her with his gaze. Sylvie felt naked. No, she wished she was. “After…the accident—after Alisa was gone—I was pretty insane for a while. I ran off into the wilderness. I didn’t care what happened to me. That’s when I discovered I could start a fire with a simple effort of will. I learned that I had other talents, too. I could fly, or something close, riding the wind to go where I pleased.”

  Excitement skittered down Sylvie’s spine. “That first night, at the creek, you disappeared…”

  Aidan nodded. “I knew I had to get out of there. I wanted you way too much for safety. Anyway, I woke one dawn, curled under a tree, to discover that the forest was blazing around me. I hadn’t started this fire. It was probably a lightning strike. Somehow I knew that I could stop it if I wanted to. All I had to do was control my breathing and concentrate. Within minutes, the flames dwindled and died away.”

  “That’s when you decided to become a warden and a fire fighter.” Sylvie could see the logic behind his choices, even though they hadn’t really healed him.

  “Right. When I returned to civilisation, I did some research. It turns out that Elementals—creatures who embody and control the forces of nature—feature in the mythology of quite a few Native American tribes. Not just Fire Elementals, either. That’s how Native Americans explained the upheavals and disasters that afflicted them. Floods, windstorms, landslides, earthquakes—these were the deeds of dissatisfied beings who controlled water, air or earth. Elementals are a bit like the Greek or the Norse gods—personifications of natural phenomena. But it appears that Elementals are real.”

  He slumped back into his chair as if the tale had sapped his strength. Despite his stature and his poise, his handsome, rugged features and powerful body, he didn’t look like a god. Sylvie saw only a man, beaten down by sorrow and guilt, weary from the effort of suppressing his basic needs.

  Aidan was still beautiful enough to steal her breath. His scent stirred her blood, leaving her swollen and aching. She wanted him—God, how she wanted him!—his arms around her, his cock inside her, his heart beating in time with hers. Yet her physical desire was a pale shadow of her crying need to comfort and heal him. Furthermore, with a sinking feeling, she realised that her presence only made things worse for him. When he was alone, he could perhaps forget his past memories and current conflicts.

  She pushed herself back from the table and stood up. “It’s really late. I should get back to my campsite.” Indeed, the sky outside the many windows was black velvet strewn with rhinestones. She peered around the hut, seeking her boots.

  Aidan jumped up to grab her arm. “No—don’t go. You can’t go. It’s much too dangerous. You’ll lose the trail in the dark. You’ll trip and injure yourself.” He gestured towards the cots. “You can sleep here. I’ll take you back in the morning.”

  “Stay here?” Sylvie heard the edge of desperation in her voice. “You’re crazy, Aidan. There’s no way I could spend the night with you, in a separate bed! I couldn’t stand it. Unless you’re asking me to sleep with you…” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her ear to his chest. His heart was hammering away, as fast as her own. “Oh, Aidan! Have you changed your mind?” She slipped her hands into his trousers, seeking bare skin.

  “Sylvie! Don’t!” Her fingers brushed his firm buttocks for an instant before he wrenched her hands out of his clothing. The brief contact made her mouth water and her pussy weep. “I can’t. You know that. You understand, like no one else ever has. We can never be lovers—not physically at least. But I need you here with me. I need to see your face, to hear your breathing. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Please…stay…my love…”

  Something twisted in Sylvie’s chest. Could she make this sacrifice? Stay without touching him, without satisfying the unendurable lust building inside of her?

  And even if she could do it, would that be the right thing for him? If he was determined to keep his vow, having her around couldn’t possibly help, despite his pleas.

  She was in a double bind. Whether she stayed or left, she’d hurt him. In any case, she couldn’t possibly remain chaste in his presence. The pull of his body was just too strong.

  Reluctantly, she released him “I’m sorry, but I have to leave—leave now, and never come back. If I stay, we’ll just torture each other.”

  “Please…I need you…” The anguish in Aidan’s voice made her wince.

  She tied her boots and stood up. “You’ll forget me, in time.” But will I ever forget you? she wondered as she headed for the door.

  “No, Sylvie! Stop! We were meant to be together…” He snagged her arm. She shrugged him off, struggling not to give in to the desire that swamped her whenever they touched. Frustration turned to sudden anger.

  “We’re not together! Don’t be so selfish! You want to have your cake and eat it too.” Hands on her hips, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, she gazed upon his face for the last time. “I can’t do this, Aidan. I can’t be in your presence without wanting you. Maybe I’m weak. But I don’t want to break my promise. And I will, if I stay. I’ve got to go. Goodbye. Good luck.” She rushed out, skinning her knee in her haste to descend the metal ladder, then ran towards the trailhead.

  Sylvie raced down the steep path, stumbling in the darkness. She was eager to put as much distance as she could between herself and the fire tower before she could change her mind.

  She half expected him to follow. However, when she paused after ten minutes, panting from exertion, only the rustle of the night wind broke the silence. He knows I’m right, she consoled herself. It’s better for both of us this way. The knowledge that this was likely true did not relieve the ache in her chest. She fought the urge to cry. Tears wouldn’t solve anything.

  Once she’d caught her breath, she proceeded at a more deliberate pace. As Aidan had predicted, the trail was difficult to navigate in the dark. Her eyes had adapted enough that she could make out the tree trunks and the large boulders, but she wouldn’t be likely to spot a stray root or a patch of loose gravel.

  A bird called to its mate somewhere in the distance. The breeze whispered secrets as it played among the leaves. The plants she crushed underfoot released a sharp tang that tickled her nostrils. The night was alive around her, soothing her spirit. She sent her thoughts winging back towards the mountain top. Aidan, my sweet. Be at peace.

  Probably there was a direct path from Mount Howell to the Sandy Creek campsite. Sylvie didn’t know the way, though. She had to content herself with retracing her steps, back down to the meadow first, then cross-country to the creek. Darkness obscured and distorted landmarks, but the trail looked generically familiar, with its precipitous descents. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she reco
gnised the ledge where she and Aidan had rested. When the path began to climb, however, she knew immediately that she’d somehow taken a wrong turn.

  “Damn!” Her own voice startled her. It was far louder than the subtle sounds of the forest. The trail became steeper, narrower and rockier by the minute, presumably heading for the crest of some other mountain. I should stop, she told herself, and wait for the light. There wasn’t a chance of backtracking to find where she’d made her error.

  Anger, sorrow, frustration and fear all welled up inside her. She wanted to scream, to throw something. She deserved better than this!

  As though triggered by her thought, the ground lurched beneath her, shaking her like a wet dog coming out of a pond. What? She stumbled and nearly fell. The path rose and fell under her feet, undulating like a choppy sea. Before she could process what was happening, though, the earth was still.

  Then a rattling roar came from the trail above her. It sounded like a load of gravel being released from a dump truck. Sylvie froze, listening. The noise grew steadily louder. A pebble bounced down the slope and slammed into her thigh. Suddenly she understood. A landslide!

  She plunged blindly off the trail, seeking shelter among the trees. Stones and clods of earth rattled down from above. The air filled with dust, making it even more difficult for her to find her way. The roar was all around her now. A chunk of rock as big as her fist struck a sapling to her right. She heard the wood snap.

  The whole hillside was giving way. There was no way she could escape. She could feel the slide, sense it barrelling down on her, sweeping away everything in its wake. A massive boulder loomed ahead of her, taller than she was. She scuttled around to the downhill side and huddled against the rough surface. Maybe it would protect her.

  The earth shifted under her feet. A strange calm stole over her. Better this than to die in the city, like a rat in a cage. The noise was deafening, but in her heart all was quiet. Aidan. She held on to his image like a sort of prayer as the brunt of the slide smashed against her rock.

  Suddenly, there was silence. The massive wave of dirt and debris simply…stopped. Sylvie crawled out of the cavity formed on the back side of the sheltering boulder, slipping and sliding in the loose soil. She couldn’t believe she was still alive.

  Spruce and hemlock trunks poked up at crazy angles from the motionless sea of earth. Rocks the size of Volkswagens dotted the expanse, gleaming wet where they’d been torn from the ground. Sylvie realised that she could see far more clearly than before. The moon had risen. It made silvery bars in the hovering dust.

  For now, the slide had stopped moving, but she understood that it wasn’t stable. She had to get away. She headed in what she judged to be north, at a right angle to the slope. She’d taken only a few steps when her toe caught on a half-buried root. The next thing she knew, she was tumbling down a steep incline, her limbs flailing. Her body flew off the edge of some precipice. The moon arced overhead. Her landing drove the breath from her lungs. The moon winked out of existence.

  * * * *

  The sweet, green scent of wild thyme teased her awake. She lay on her back. Tall grass waved over her head. There was the moon, with its idiot grin.

  Pain pounded at the back of Sylvie’s head, but her vision was clear. She could wiggle her fingers and toes. Her arms and legs seemed to respond to her commands. She sat up, swallowing hard. Her mouth was incredibly dry. She remembered she’d left her canteen with Aidan. Damn! Well, at least she didn’t appear to be seriously hurt.

  She had no idea where she was. Still, this was obviously a clearing, so she might be able to recognise landmarks if she got up above the vegetation.

  Trying to stand up turned out to be a mistake. Her left ankle wouldn’t bear her weight. She peered at the injured joint in the wan moonlight. It looked twice as big as the right, and when she prodded the swollen flesh with her finger a red-hot sliver of pain sliced up her leg.

  Damn, damn, damn. She was lost in the wilderness, without water, unable to walk. Nobody knew where she was. On the other hand, she was alive. She’d been sure that she’d been about to die when the landslide had crashed down around her. A sprained ankle was nothing. She might have broken her leg, even fractured her spine.

  Someone would come looking for her, eventually. Aidan knew that she was out here in the forest somewhere. But she’d told Aidan goodbye, dismissed him from her life. If he took her at her word, he’d let her be.

  Aidan. The thought was a knife in her gut. Sylvie missed him—missed him as a physical lack, like someone had lopped off an arm or a leg. She’d been wrong. She needed him. She’d never had that kind of communication with any other man. He had been speaking the truth when he’d told her they belonged together, even if together meant some strange, torturous situation where they could look forever, but never touch.

  She closed her eyes, summoning his face. She imagined stroking the straw-gold hair from his forehead, tracing the arch of his brows, running her fingers over the soft cushion of his lips. She could kiss him, couldn’t she? That would be enough, for them to connect mouth to mouth. She swore to herself that she’d be good—controlling her lust, not tempting him—if only she could kiss him once more.

  There was a whir overhead. Something blotted out the moon. Then Aidan stood before her, as though summoned by her thoughts.

  “Sylvie! You’re hurt!” He sank to his knees beside her and swept her into his arms.

  “Aidan! I’m fine. Now I’m fine, completely okay… Oh yes, everything is finally all right!” His lips found hers then, stopping her from babbling any more nonsense. His blazing hands tore at her clothing.

  “God, Sylvie, after you left… I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t think. My mind whirled in drunken circles, wondering how I’d managed to drive you away, and how I could get you back.” His voice was like the wind in her ear, alternating with the scalding pleasure of his tongue, sucking on her earlobe, tracing the line of her neck. “I’ve been looking for you for hours. When I saw the slide… Oh, Sylvie!”

  Her clothes lay in shreds around them. He laid her naked in the grass and gazed down at her, wonder mingling with desire in his expression.

  “You’re a goddess,” he told her, “shining in the moonlight. I want you so terribly.”

  “Take me,” Sylvie begged. “I’m yours, Aidan. You know I am. I’ve been yours since the first instant I saw you, rising from the creek.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “The only way you can hurt me is by refusing me.” Sylvie seized him by the shoulder and pulled him to the ground. “I don’t believe I’ll die if we make love. But if I do, it will be worth it. I don’t want to live if I can’t be with you—completely with you.”

  She reached down to unfasten his trousers. He groaned as her fingers brushed the hot bulge of his hard cock. It was out in a moment, swaying before her, the bulb glistening in the moonlight.

  Sylvie’s lust took over. She ripped off his shirt, scattering buttons among the weeds. Her fingers danced down his chest, circling his nipples then tweaking them hard. “Fuck me,” she moaned, her other hand busy in her pussy. “I can’t stand it an instant longer. I love you and I swear I’ll die if you’re not inside me in thirty seconds!”

  She tugged at his cock. He reared over her, panting. “There’s no going back,” he warned, between gritted teeth. His swollen penis grazed her pubic fur. Lightning shot through her. “Are you sure?”

  Her answer was the way she wrapped her legs around his hips and drew his hardness into her body.

  “Ah!” Aidan released a choked groan as he slipped into her pussy. He jerked his pelvis, slamming against her clit and driving his cock into the depths of her hungry cunt. She was speared by a red-hot poker, filled with molten glass, stretched to the limit of endurance. She loved every instant.

  She dug her fingernails into his hips, holding him inside her while she milked the heat from his huge, hard organ. Pleasure raced along her nerves, making her jump and twi
tch. He tried to pull back but she wouldn’t allow him to move. She wanted to feel him pulse and glow, radiating power inside her.

  He wrenched himself away then plunged back into her, searing her flesh. It was so far beyond anything she’d ever known—there were no words for these sensations. Ecstasy and agony—the terms were too weak to describe the currents of fire he set moving through her. She arched up, wanting more, deeper, harder. He seized her hips and raised her bodily off the ground, stabbing her with his cock while his nails scored her butt cheeks like electric needles.

  It was everything she’d dreamt of and more…far more. She could feel his heartbeat surging through her own veins. Liquid fire streamed from her cunt, making him slick and slippery. He danced in and out, flickering like a lit candle. Her clit smouldered, hot and heavy, ready to burst into flame.

  She grasped him at the root—heedless of the blisters his fevered skin raised—and squeezed. She wanted him to fill her with his boiling juice and truly make her his own. He responded by pulling out, leaving her moaning in sorrow at the loss. The sight of him squirming out of his trousers was some consolation, and she wasn’t empty for long. With effortless strength he flipped her over, raised her ass, and plunged back into her yawning pussy, filling her more completely than ever.

  “Umph! Uh! Oh!” Each thrust of his cock forced the guttural cries from her throat. His balls slapped against the backs of her thighs. His nails carved bloody crescents in her ass. He was savage, relentless, almost cruel. Yet she sensed his concern. Fucking her wildly, still he held his lust partly in check, afraid to truly let go.

  Without slowing his thrusts, Aidan reached around to capture her clit. His fingers a red hot clamp, he twisted the little knob of flesh, turning up the intensity. His cock in her cunt, his burning fingers on her clit, his other hand tracing down the crevice between her butt cheeks to toy with the tight rosette of muscle hidden there—the sensations tumbled one over the other, leaving her breathless.

 

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