The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 (19 page)

   He envied his fire, for he wanted nothing more than to trace his own fingers across the paths on which he sent them.

   But he could touch her in a thousand places at once with the myriad flames, and it brought him pleasure to imagine her own. So he sent the tiny flickers to her more quickly. Some to warm her back. More to weave within her hair. Yellow flames wove between her fingers, lightly moving her hands as they spun within her palms.

   She pretended to ignore them.

   Dominic traced her cheek with flame, eased more across her lips, and imagined his own mouth upon them when she sighed. He made the flames catch the covers and lift them up, draw them down her body until he could see the curve of her hip, the long length of her legs, the small soles of her feet. A shiver went through her from the chill air and he quickly sent more whorls of yellow to caress her legs, play with her toes, flick over her hips.

   He narrowed his eyes in concentration as she continued to ignore his magic, ruthlessly skimming her bottom with tendrils of flame, finally sending some to tickle the crease between her buttocks.

   Cassandra let out a startled yelp and flipped onto her back.

   Dominic continued to play with his fire as if he stroked the keys of some erotic instrument, his entire being caught up in bringing pleasure to his wife. He hadn't realized what intense satisfaction it would bring him.

Twelve

"What do you think you're doing?" gasped Cassandra.

   "Showing you the pleasure of my magic."

   She knew that as soon as she looked at him she would fall under his spell and would not be able to resist him. And she'd tried very hard to keep her back to him, to shy from his touch. Not that she blamed Dominic for the sins of his father, but she felt as if she needed some distance from him to settle her beliefs with what he'd shown her.

   But when he'd astonished her with that intimate touch of his magic, she could not suppress her reaction. And now she could only stare at his beautiful face and body and feel every fiber of her being long for him.

   He smelled like starlight. Faith, he'd created a starry night above her, small flickers of yellow diamonds atop the wooden ceiling of their bed. But those stars kept falling as his fingers wove a pattern in the air. Falling to land on her exposed skin.

   His midnight eyes reflected those tiny specks of light, his beautiful brow furrowed in concentration as he orchestrated their dance. The rest of his face retained its usual smooth calm, his full lips set in a soft line, the rigid planes of his cheeks and jaw arranged in that ethereal composure of his.

   But when she looked back into his eyes she noticed the subtle difference. They shimmered with a warmth that made her heart melt, that made her want to reach out to him and apologize for her earlier indifference.

   But she could not speak, could not move other than to wriggle beneath the onslaught of his magic. As soon as she'd flipped over he'd rained more of his yellow flames down upon her. She'd watched them fall, anticipated their gentle, warm touch with an arch of her back that she could not suppress. Her breasts had been covered with tiny yellow diamonds, except for her nipples, which felt coldly neglected in comparison. Flames danced across her stomach, burrowed into her belly button, skimmed down the length of her legs, and curled about her toes. Each flame brought warmth and the lightest of touches. Lighter than a feather swept across her skin. And yet they did not tickle… Fie, she could not describe the way they felt. She could only feel. Thousands of caresses that soothed and titillated all at the same time.

   Her scalp tingled from their weaving in her hair, from their strokes along the strands of it. Her mouth trembled beneath the warm flow against her lips. She wiggled her fingers and felt the flames move with her, pulsating around her fingertips and brushing across her palms.

   Cassandra tore her gaze away from Dominic's and glanced down at her body. Merciful heaven, she glowed with fire. Her entire body writhed with it, and it should have frightened her.

   "Look at me," he commanded, and she could not refuse him. Could not help losing herself in the bottomless depths of his dark eyes. He glowed golden in the reflected light, the muscles in his broad shoulders rippling as he continued to sweep his fingers over her body.

   And then he smiled at her. With such tender passion that Cass could not help smiling back at him. And when she raised her arms above her head in absolute surrender, his smile grew wider. Triumphant.

   Fire licked up her underarms and set her to quivering again. And suddenly tiny warm flames entered every crevice of her body. Her ears warmed from the inside. Her lips parted and tendrils stroked the insides of her cheeks, curled around her tongue. She blew out a breath of flame and tossed her head, for the fire had curled between her legs, filled the space between them, a gentle pressure that drove her mad for want of more. It filled her up, but so gently and teasingly that she could not help—

   "Look at me."

   She'd forgotten he would not allow her to look away from him. He wanted to see the pleasure in her eyes, as if it somehow brought him the same. And indeed, he looked just as maddened as she felt.

   Thousands of gentle caresses with only two areas exposed to the cold night air. When the heat finally came to her nipples, to the nub of pleasure between her curls, she could no longer suppress a moan. Some of the flames stroked her; some whorled so fast they created a vortex that plucked at her skin, making her flesh rise higher and higher.

   Dominic's eyes had become fierce. She reached out a hand to him and he clasped it, flames dancing between their entwined fingers. And when the spasms shook her body, he held her rooted to the earth, and when her moans threatened to turn into screams, he leaned down and covered her mouth with his own, taking her cries into his lungs while he continued to weave his magic.

   Her pleasure lasted forever. Her pleasure lasted but a moment.

   Cass had never felt anything like it before. Hadn't imagined such wonders of feeling aroused in her body.

   Dominic pulled away from her. The yellow flames suddenly died, plunging her into cold and darkness.

   And she realized it hadn't been enough.

   "Dominic."

   "I'm here." She felt the bed move, but he did not touch her.

   "You have proven your point. Magic can be wonderful. But…"

   She heard his intake of breath, the shaky release of it. Had her pleasure affected him so strongly, then?

   "But I need more," she continued. "I need you."

   And suddenly the heat of his body covered her, so much stronger than the tiny flecks of his magic. She reveled in the heavy feel of him between her legs, in the firm press of his lips against hers, and then the heat of his breath against her ear.

   "Demanding wench, aren't you?"

   Cass answered by wrapping her legs about his waist and pulling him unerringly into her. Ah, this was the pressure she'd craved, the feel her body had trembled for. She reached up and wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers again.

   He made a strangled sound and ground his lips atop hers, a pleasure-pain that made her tug at his hair and tighten her legs about him. She knew she'd taken him by surprise when she'd guided him so quickly into her, and she didn't want to give him a chance to recover. She pressed against him, not allowing him to pull out of her, deeper and deeper until he shuddered, plunging his tongue into her mouth as his own release rocked him, his groan of surprise muffled by her lips.

   Something wonderful spread deep within Cassandra, a flow of warmth much stronger than magic. She held him to her with a strength she hadn't known she possessed. And in that moment her soul accepted his own as a part of her, and she knew she'd never be able to separate herself from him again.

   Dominic rolled off her, taking her with him, so they lay on their sides facing each other, one of her legs still wrapped around his hip. Cass kept her hands twined in his hair, felt his breath stir the top of her head and the slight pressure of his chin, which rested upon it. She did not want to move. She wanted to stay like this forever, allow the happiness that filled her to stay a little while, for she'd never expected to feel such joy. Had never expected she'd fall in love with the elven lord's son.

   Or that he might care for her in turn.

   But she had to get up to brew the herbs that prevented pregnancy. For just a moment she allowed herself to think of what it might be like to conceive a child with him and felt such a fierce sort of joy it astonished her. She hadn't thought herself capable of such a feeling.

   "Dominic?"

   "Mmm," he replied, sounding half-asleep. Cass knew how much using her own bit of magic drained her, befuddling her mind afterward and sapping her body of strength. He must be so very tired after wielding the greater power he had at his disposal, despite his stronger elven blood.

   But she had to ask.

   "What will happen if we have a child?"

   "You mean when."

   He sounded so arrogant it made her smile. "All right then… when. If the child possesses this black fire as you fear
you
might, what will we do?"

   He stiffened, disentangled himself from her arms, and rolled onto his back.

   "We cannot give our child to your father," she continued. "Now that we know about—"

   "Do not speak of it. Not within these walls."

   Fire appeared in his hands, but not the warm flare of yellow and, fortunately, not the burning heat of red. Balls of orange flame rolled along his palms, lighting up the confines of their bed, the stiff beauty of his face.

   Cass pulled the covers over her and propped herself up on an elbow. Despite the fact that the orange fire could burn her or the bedding, she had complete confidence in his ability to control it. To protect her from it. A very odd feeling for a girl who had been taught to rely on no one but herself.

   Dominic made no move to cover his own nakedness and she guiltily felt glad. She could look at the beauty of his perfect form for years and never tire of it. But since she didn't have years, she tried to make up for it by drinking in the sight of him with desperate intensity.

   Despite the stern look upon his face, he still resembled a Roman statue, with his long, smooth nose and full lips, the high cheekbones and square jaw. But his hair did not curl like the busts she'd seen; indeed, it lay thick and straight down his head, a luxurious fall curving over his broad shoulders and flowing down to his ridged abdomen.

   Cass leaned over and twisted a hank of it about her fist, marveling at the silver glow that shimmered from the strands.

   "I will fight him then," he finally said, "and as usual, it will be my father's whim whether I live or die."

   She loosed his hair. "Then I will be at your side."

   Dominic tossed the fireballs in the air, his midnight eyes reflecting the orange flecks of color in crystal glitters. "You and what army?"

   "We don't need an army, Dominic. We will have God with us."

   He glanced at her in surprise, the fire suspended in midair, twirling like small dervishes. "You still cling to your faith? After what I have shown you?"

   Cass set her mouth in a stubborn line.

   "Devil a bit, woman. If this God of yours exists, why would he allow such atrocities to happen?"

   "Because he gave us free will. Do not blame the devil's actions on him… and do not try to debate theology with me. You shall lose."

   "Indeed?" The orange flames shifted to yellow and danced up to the bed's ceiling again, swirling across the top of it like ribbons of golden light. "We could talk all night and I'd still call you a fool."

   She could hear the anger, the bitterness in his voice. Her mouth softened and she put her hand over his heart. "You shall see. God will help us win."

   He spoke again, and this time she heard the despair. The pain of a man who had felt abandoned for far too long. "Damn it, Cassandra, what has your God ever done for me?"

   She allowed the covers to fall, scooted closer, and leaned over him, her breasts pressed against the smooth hardness of his chest. "He brought you… me."

   He blinked and then gave a great sigh. Her body lifted and fell with his. Dominic brought his hands up to her face, the palms still heated from his magic, and gently smoothed back her hair. Cass half closed her eyes at the tenderness of his touch. His thumbs smoothed over her lips and traced a path across her cheeks.

   His lip quirked. "How can I argue with that?"

   She gave him a brilliant smile. He blinked again and then pulled her mouth down to his, sweeping his lips across her own again and again, until she pressed against him for something deeper. He obliged, opening his mouth, allowing Cassandra to sink into him as deeply as she could.

   When she finally pulled away, they both were breathing hard.

   "I love you," she said, suddenly feeling shy and vulnerable, but unable to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

   "I know," he replied without arrogance or conceit. "I can recognize it in others. But it's been long and long since I've found it in myself. You have become more important to me than my own life. Is that love?"

   Cass couldn't answer him. He would have to discover that on his own. And perhaps if they had enough time, he might. She let her head relax on his shoulder, burrowed her face into his neck. Silky warmth.

   She felt the muscles in his arms contract, and he pulled her close against him until she all but straddled his body full length. "I
will
protect you. And any child of ours. I will find this greater power within me. Ador says I will be strong enough soon. I will make it sooner."

   "Dominic, you are crushing me." He relaxed his hold and Cass could breathe again. "I do not understand how your power could be hidden from you… how the dragon knows all this."

   "Ador is connected to the scepter somehow. And the scepter—fie, I don't understand the half of it myself, only that it amplifies an elven lord's power and therefore possesses magic of its own. But when I touched the talisman as a child—"

   "Touched it? And it did not harm you?" blurted Cassandra. The Rebellion had tried often enough to steal the scepters, much to the instant demise of the thieves.

   Dominic shrugged. "I have seen Father carelessly brush it up against people time and again with no harm to them. But once a foolish courtier tried to wrest it from my father, and the man burned to ash where he stood. Perhaps it didn't harm me because I didn't try to wield it, or because I have so much elven blood running through my veins… I can't be sure. But I do know it somehow forged a connection with me when I touched it. One strong enough to hide my magic from my father. The scepter is… aware. And it wants to return to Elfhame, or so says Ador."

   "And you believe this?"

   "I have sensed the magic within me for years; so yes, I believe he speaks the truth. But they play a deadly game, Cassandra, in their quest to return to their homeland. One in which I do not want you caught up."

   She had no intention, of course, of staying out of it. But it would do no good to argue with him. His will had been tempered in fire, and his strength astonished and humbled her. And despite her belief that God would help them win against the elven lord, she couldn't be sure she would survive the battle.