Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy 2)

“This isn’t about fighting; it’s about trying to figure out this new power. It feels and acts differently than my manipulation of fire.”

“How did you learn to use your fire?”

“I studied. My mother taught me how it should work, and I figured out how it actually worked, which was very different.”

“And how did you figure that out?”

I opened my mouth to answer that I had diligently focused for long periods of time each day, but that wasn’t true at the beginning. Memories crowded in—of cold, crisp mornings when my mom would hurl things at me, willing me to defend myself with my power. If I couldn’t protect myself, I’d get hit, often with wooden objects that hurt a lot, or spells that stung my skin. Of warm, humid nights when I’d walk through the shadows, my night vision doing little to protect me from her sneak attacks. The amount of spells she’d lobbed at me would make normal people cry “child abuse,” but my mom had known exactly what she was doing. She’d guided me through the beginning, helping me learn to shape my abilities. It wasn’t until I understood what burned inside of me that I was turned toward the more diligent, thoughtful approach, refining and manipulating.

I stared at Darius with glistening eyes, the tightness in my chest reminiscent of the pain when I first lost her. Of my sudden plunge into uncertainty. How would I learn this new power without her? I didn’t even know where to start.

“We will do it together,” Darius said softly, as if reading my thoughts. He was doing that a lot lately. “I can help you.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“May I?” he asked, his eyes dipping to my neck.

So many emotions were flying through me at that moment, with him and my mother and the sense of impending doom, that I couldn’t do much more than nod.

His movements were slow, syrupy. He was taking the opposite approach this time, giving me time to adjust. To get used to his closeness so that I (probably) wouldn’t fling him across the room again.

“It is a joy being in your presence, Reagan,” he said quietly, his face now inches from mine. “Relaxing and exhilarating at the same time. I miss you when you aren’t near.”

My eyes fluttered as his sweet breath fell across my face. As the warmth of his body, so near, cocooned me.

His eyes scanned my face before stopping on my lips. I felt his hands settle low on my hips.

“Just blood,” I said in a husky voice I didn’t recognize.

“I am at your mercy,” he said, his lips getting closer. “I have always been at your mercy.”

His scent, spicy and masculine, delighted my senses. The power in his large body, the strength, made my mind buzz from his proximity.

When he bent, I was prepared for his face to dip to the side, and for the sharp pinch of his fangs as they entered my skin. I was prepared to fight the chemical effect of his saliva, as potent as the drug ecstasy. I was even prepared for my heart to thump madly, begging me to relent, to enjoy his perfect body and the rise and fall of each hard, defined muscle.

I was not prepared for his kiss.

When his lips touched mine, a jolt of sweet ecstasy cut through me. The fire within me boiled, and the excitement of battle mixed with the sweet heat of desire. I opened my mouth to him. He filled it in a rush, his tongue swirling around mine in an erotically teasing sort of way.

My moan was soft and deep. Liquid fire dripped through my middle and pooled below. Struggling with myself, I clutched his shirt front to push him off. Instead, I pulled him closer, willingly trapping myself between the hard warmth of him and the unyielding wall behind me.

His kiss increased in urgency, our shared fervency rising. I splayed my fingers across his chest, the logical side of me still urging me to push him away, but desire made me dip my hands lower.

I moaned again as his fingers slid up the curves of my hips and dipped under the fabric of my shirt. His touch sizzled against my skin and then sent a flush of goosebumps across it. The woman in me, that sensual beast who loved the feel of leather and lace against my skin, who was warm-blooded and yearned to show it, gripped the lapels of his jacket and pushed them over his shoulders.

His hands came away from me as he shed the jacket, but his mouth stayed connected to mine, his taste wild and exciting. His mastery with delicious, teasing, oh-so-sexy kisses was better than anything I’d ever experienced.

This time his hands connected at my shoulders before sliding up to my neck. One stayed there, curving around that vulnerable area, and the other glanced off my chin as his kiss deepened still.

I yanked the ends of his shirt out of his pants and slid my hands along his smooth skin, lost to his touch. To the ferocity of my desire for him. To this moment.

His hold on my neck firmed up and his other hand dropped down to my butt, squeezing my lower half toward him. My core ached, my logic quieted, and my body keyed up, surprising me by wanting this with everything I had.

My breath came in shallow pants as his face slowly moved to the side. The hint of claw from his hand pricked my neck, sending a jolt of fear through me that I was allowing a powerful, primal being at one of the most physically vulnerable places on my body. Adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream, mixing with my raw passion to create such a potent elixir, I groaned and exhaled in sanguine bliss.

His tongue traced a blazing trail down the side of my neck. I angled my face away, giving him room to work. Melting into the moment. His body. Him.

None of this could be credited to—or blamed on—the chemicals of a vampire. He hadn’t bitten me yet. It was because of my connection with Darius. Somewhere along the way, he’d wormed his way into my world, and now that I was letting myself acknowledge that, I realized my desperate attraction had always been there. That the need was natural, and it was based on his personality, the rough as well as the sweet. The arrogant as well as the protector.

It might not be smart, and I would have to let logic back in eventually, but for this moment, I wanted nothing more than to give in to our needs—his need of an intimate connection while getting sustenance, and mine of deep, personal contact.

The scrape of his fangs on my neck made me shiver. His mouth sucked a spot on my neck that I knew was over my artery. I was about to offer my most precious possession to him—my life’s blood.

The pinch made me gasp and clutch his arms, but the following flood of ecstasy ripped the breath from my lungs. I dropped my mouth open in a silent scream, unable to handle such an onslaught of earth-shattering pleasure. It exploded, flash-boiling my body. I groaned, writhing against him, wanting him inside me to take the feeling to the next level.

His face ripped away and he slammed his hands against the wall, one on either side of my face. Paint and plaster trickled down from each point of contact. He bowed, breathing heavily. His whole body flexed. It was a pity it was obscured by clothes.

“Everything…all right?” I asked, out of breath. I was the one that was supposed to pull away, after all. We were swapping roles just now.

He began talking, aiming his words at his feet. And while the sounds were beautiful and flowing, I had no idea what he was saying.

“In English?” I prompted, resting my hands on his shoulders and dropping my head back to rest on the wall. I closed my eyes and let a smile curl my lips. A shudder of delight racked my body as his unique serum continued to course through my bloodstream. “I had no idea vampires got more potent with age. Wow, this feels good. So much better than that other—”

“Don’t mention anyone else,” he said in a ferocious voice. “I am not rational just now. I am completely out of control.”

I grimaced, because that sucked for him, then went back to soaking in the delicious feeling of his bite. I was doing just fine, thank you very much. I saw no reason for him to ruin my high.

“I cannot describe how good you taste, mon amour. Your blood is truly the nectar of the gods. Sweet, spicy, complex. Better than the finest wine in all of France. Better than I could’ve possibly imagined. The smell does not do it justice. There is nothing on this planet that could possibly compare.” He straightened up, his eyes deep and intense. “I am speechless.”

“Clearly not,” I said with a smile, running my hand along his jaw. I traced my thumb across his full bottom lip. “Round two?”