Burn (Dark in You 1)

Knox prowled toward her like a panther, eyes unblinking and locked on her. “I was born in the flames of hell…and you don’t care?” Pure skepticism.

She shook her head. As he reached out to touch her face, she knew he was testing her. So she held still. Of course, she almost jumped when small flames played over his fingertips. Again, he was testing her. “Pretty. Any more tricks?”

He circled her. “I can smell your fear. My demon doesn’t like the scent of it at all.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t scared.” Only someone with the IQ of a crumb wouldn’t be afraid. “I said I don’t care.” Whatever he was, whatever he could do, he was still Knox. Even the entity inside her, rattled though it was, would accept it.

“You don’t care, despite your fear?”

“You’d never hurt me.”

He stopped in front of her. “How can you be so sure?” Another taunt.

“I trust you.”

A pause. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Stop being an asshole!” And now her temper was kicking in. “I told you I don’t care. If you don’t believe me, fuck you! I’m going to watch some T.V!” Her regal march was hampered by the arm that curled around her and yanked her back against a solid chest.

“You never, ever react how I expect you to,” he said into her ear, a smile in his voice. “I like that.” He held his other arm up in front of her. There was the slightest hum of power in the air…and then his lower arm was in flames.

Whoa. Involuntarily, she stiffened as self-preservation kicked in and the urge to flee hit her hard. But she didn’t move away, didn’t recoil. This was still Knox, her Knox. And the hand that was currently flaming had touched her a thousand times but never once hurt her.

She hadn’t thought it was possible for fire to be beautiful, but it was. In fact, the red, gold, black flames were almost mesmerizing. Yet another example to prove she wasn’t at all smart, Harper reached out to touch his arm. She balled up her hand instead.

“The flames can’t burn you, Harper. Because they’re me. And you’re right, I’d never harm you.”

Ignoring the scorching heat radiating from his arm, Harper skimmed her fingers over a golden flame. It didn’t hurt, didn’t even burn. It was like touching hot, liquid silk. She was about to ask if the heat burned his skin but then she remembered that, hey, he was the flames.

“You do trust me,” Knox marveled. He honestly didn’t know how the fuck she was taking it so well, or how she could let him hold her despite her fear. But then, he was still stuck working out how her fascinating little mind worked. He eased the fire, putting out the flames. “It really doesn’t make any difference to you, does it? Even though you fear what I am, you don’t care.”

She turned to face him, smoothing her hands up his chest. “You’re still you.”

Like that was all that mattered to her. With those words, she fucking owned his soul and she didn’t even realize it. He threaded his hands through her hair, gripping it tight. He wished he had pretty words to give her, but it wasn’t in him.

When she’d said she loved him, Knox’s first reaction had been disbelief. He was a realist, was well aware of each and every fault he possessed. He’d never considered himself a loveable person and, honestly, it had never bothered him. Why? For the same reason that panic had quickly set in at her words. He didn’t believe he had the emotional capacity to feel it.

There were times when he’d picked up the emotion from others as they stared at their mates or relatives, so he knew exactly what it was. And he knew he’d never experienced it himself. If he couldn’t feel it, what did he have to offer Harper in return?

The only thing he’d had to give her was a truth he’d withheld – a truth that had the potential to kill whatever she felt for him, considering he literally was everyone’s worst nightmare. But he’d taken the risk, because it was all he had to give her.

He’d expected her shock and fear, had expected her to struggle to accept the dark reality of what her mate was – who wouldn’t struggle with it? So none of those things had come as a surprise to him. But he really hadn’t known what to expect after that, because he could never predict Harper’s responses.

Some possibilities had entered his head: Maybe she’d try to flee. Maybe she’d ask for time alone to think. Or maybe she’d be too terrified to speak.

What he wouldn’t in a million years have suspected was that she’d give him attitude. When he’d pushed her, she’d called him on his bullshit. She’d refused to let him intimidate her, just as she always did. And when he wouldn’t believe that the truth genuinely didn’t make any difference to how she felt, she’d cursed at him. His inner demon had chuckled.

There was no one like her. She was totally unique. Delightfully complex. And now he had to have her.

He took her right there on the floor, where there was no give and he could bury himself as deep inside her delectable body as it was possible to be. It was fast and hard, and she came screaming his name while he pumped every bit of his come in her.

They migrated to the bed. As he lay on his back with her draped over him, he smoothed her hair between his fingers. “I’m almost disappointed that you didn’t try to flee. It would have been fun having you as my captive. Helpless. Vulnerable. All at my mercy.”

She propped her chin up on his chest. “Such a kinky bastard. Is it an archdemon thing?”