A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

I just wanted to exist in this moment, with this beautiful, strong, and kind being.

“Thank you,” I whispered, sliding my hand from his stomach. I drew my fingers over the soft material of his pants and over his hard length. I folded my hand around him through the fabric, and his entire body jerked again. I looked up at him. His lips were parted just enough that the tips of his fangs were visible.

“So, the whole I can do anything? What if I want to…?” I smoothed my thumb along him, and my stomach hollowed at the feel of him. “What if I wanted to kiss you?” I ran my finger back up, smoothing it over the curved head. His breath was a song. “Here.”

“Fuck,” he repeated.

“Does that fall under anything?”

His chest rose and fell heavily. “That would be the first thing under anything.

“The first thing?”

“And the last. The second thing would be that nightgown and you wearing it whenever you like.”

Laughing again, I stretched up and kissed him, enjoying the playfulness, the closeness that I had never really felt before when I was intimate with another. Maybe because this wasn’t about stealing a few minutes of pleasure that stole thoughts. It wasn’t even about my duty. This was about him and me. It was just about us, and it was…fun.

His hands skimmed my waist as I eased my hand under the band on his pants. I felt him shudder as my fingers brushed his cool, hard skin. Breathing in his groan, I curled my hand around him and trembled as I moved it along his length. His hips lifted under me, and I broke off the kiss, a twist of pleasure curling deep in my core as those ultra-bright eyes locked with mine. He didn’t blink, not once, as I moved my hand over him. I didn’t want to either, enthralled by the tension settling around his mouth, in his jaw, and how the wisps of eather whipped through his eyes. Pulse pounding, I worked my way down once more, trailing a hand over his chest and stomach, where the shadows had thickened under his skin, creating a fascinating marbled effect.

I reached his pants and tugged on the band. Ash lifted his hips enough for me to pull them down over his thighs. Only then did I look away and look at him. A tumbling sensation swept through my chest and my stomach in a sharp, enticing way. The skin was darker, and he seemed even thicker, harder under my palm as I drew my hand to the tip of the glistening head and then back down his entire length.

He was beautiful.

Strands of my hair fell over my shoulder and against my cheeks as I lowered my head. I kissed him, just below the ridge, and his hips jerked. I pressed short, quick kisses along his length and then licked at his skin, my breath quickening to match his. The tips of his fingers brushed my cheek as my lips coasted over that apparently sensitive spot. I lifted my gaze as he caught my curls, brushing them back from my face. I didn’t think he breathed. Our gazes locked, and I felt the corners of my lips curl up as I closed my mouth over the head of his cock.

Ash’s entire body reacted. His hips lifted, back bowed, and one leg curled as I drew him into my mouth. “Fucking gods,” he growled.

I took him as far as I could, swirling my tongue over his skin, letting my hand reach the rest of him. His salty taste was powerful. The way he danced along my tongue was an aphrodisiac. I sucked at his skin, on his cock, a little surprised by how much I was enjoying myself. Maybe it was this moment, and maybe it was the rough, raw sounds he made. Perhaps it was the way his hand kept tightening in my hair, tugging on the strands and then relaxing. Or how he struggled to keep the thrusts of his hips short and shallow. It could’ve been the way his hand shook. Both of his hands—the one in my hair and the one on the nape of my neck. Maybe it was just him. Just me. The sudden rush of power I felt that came with the knowledge that he was the Primal of Death and I made him shake.

“Sera,” he ground out, hand firming on the back of my neck. “I’m not…I’m not going to last.”

My skin flushed. I moved my hand faster, sucked harder, and his hand tangled in my hair again as his hips moved, pressing deeper against my palm. Against my tongue.

Ash wasn’t just lifting his hips anymore. He lifted me and pulled. “Sera, liessa…”

I grazed my teeth over that sensitive spot, and instead of trying to pull my mouth from him again, he pressed down, his entire body arching under me. I felt his cock jerk against my palm as he drew a leg up again. He stiffened. The deep, throaty groan scorched my skin when he let go, throbbing and pulsing.