Shadow Fire (Shadow Riders 7)

He pulled back and surged forward again, feeding her his cock right through her orgasms, but not with his usual aggressive, wild, out-of-control force he used when they played. Each stroke was a slow, burning entry, pushing through her tight, convulsing folds with deliberate care. She felt the way his hot blood pounded through the thick girth of his cock, stretching the tender tissues of her channel. She felt the heavy vein running along his shaft. She could count his heartbeats through his cock. In spite of the sapphire-and-diamond harness and clamps, every movement he made felt like love to her.

“Look at the sun coming up, bébé. That’s us. That’s the way we are together.” He whispered it against the small of her back, bending over her, pressing a kiss there. “Are you looking, Brielle?”

She lifted her head and looked at the lake, at the first fiery rays of the sun. As she did, his cock moved in her harder. Deeper. The exquisite flame matched the crimson beauty of the sun, that sweep of color falling around the water, looking as if it was rising from it. She could barely think with his cock moving in her the way it was, not fast, but hard, driving through her narrow tunnel, so deep until she felt his balls smacking against her cheeks.

His hot breath was still ragged against the small of her back as he leaned over her body, his arms around her, under hers. Another hard surge forward and the flames raced through her body. Simultaneously, her nipples became engorged with blood as he gently removed the clamps with the grips. The intensity of the fiery chaotic frenzy of signals being sent through her body sent stars dancing behind her eyes and her body once more erupted into a powerful series of orgasms. She muffled a scream, trying to stay on her feet.

Elie wrapped an arm around her waist and began to move hard and fast in her, using the other hand to work the plug between her cheeks in a counter rhythm, so that the orgasms continued rolling through her, building and building until she thought she might really go insane from pleasure. Then he was pulling the plug from her body, gripping her hips hard, pulling her into him as she pushed into him, so they were coming together like two wild animals. She felt the hot splash as ropes of his seed coated her inner walls. Her sheath bit down on his cock, greedy for more, hungry for every last drop he could give her.

They stayed bent over the firepit for a long while, breathing hard, trying to catch their breath while the sun climbed a little higher. As usual, it was Elie who had managed to pull himself upright first. “Thank you, ma belle. You make me feel as if I have a home. Someone to come back to.”

He murmured the words so softly, she nearly hadn’t caught them, especially since he was pulling out of her and the slide of his cock triggered delicious aftershocks and her breathing was ragged and loud in her ears. Unhooking the chain around her hips, he gathered up the jewelry.

“Sit for a minute.” He tucked his cock away and retrieved her robe.

“Elie.” She had to moisten her lips. “You do have a home and someone to come back to. You have a family. Me. I’m your home and family. You’re mine. We may be new, but . . .” She indicated the sunrise. “That’s us.”

He studied her face for a long time. She couldn’t read him.

“Let’s go in before the boats start coming out to play.” He wrapped his arm around her, kissed her thoroughly, tucked her under his shoulder and walked her back to the house.

* * *

• • •

Brielle, we’re starving,” Raimondo yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you ever going to come down here and fix us something to eat?”

His voice snapped Brielle out of her reverie. She put her fingertips on the window as she looked down at the firepit. What had Elie meant by an unexpected emotion? He’d made her sad to think he’d never had anyone to come home to. She didn’t know how to keep her heart safe anymore. She loved everything about Elie Archambault. He was unexpectedly . . . vulnerable. The strange thing was, he didn’t realize it. He was always in charge, something she liked and needed. At the same time, he needed her and she wanted that. Yearned for that. She needed him to need her every bit as desperately as she needed him.

It was important to her that not just anyone would do for him. She didn’t want to be just a warm body for him. There were so many moments with him that told her she was so much more. She just wasn’t certain if she was making too much of those times because she so desperately needed him to be falling for her.

“Brielle.” Now Leone sounded impatient.

She had to smile. Her two boys. That was how she thought of them. She knew she wasn’t supposed to think of her personal protectors that way, but she did. She had confidence in her ability to protect herself. She could slide into a shadow and disappear if she had to. They couldn’t. She didn’t want either of them “taking a bullet” for her. That was absurd. She disliked the idea on principle alone.

“Seriously? You just ate. I made you French toast and eggs.” Not just any French toast and eggs, either. She’d given them fresh maple syrup and caramelized pears with fresh fruit. Along with that, she’d made eggs Benedict. The two had consumed both dishes without a scrap left on their plates. She didn’t see how either man could possibly be hungry for the rest of the day.

“That was hours ago, Brielle. Hours,” Leone complained. “You’ve been up there working. When you’re working, you have no idea how much time goes by.”

“She’s not working,” Raimondo said. “I wouldn’t have interrupted her if she’d been working. She was at the window, staring out at the lake and mooning over Elie again. Really, Brielle, it’s disgusting how often you blank out and lose it over that man.”

She came partway down the stairs and glared at him. “I don’t do that.” She did do that. Sadly. But she wasn’t admitting it. Her nipples were sore. Her clit was sore. Deliciously so. The material of her underwear, as soft as it was, rubbed, causing a delightful friction that kept reminding her of her early morning adventure with her surprisingly adventurous husband. He certainly came up with interesting ideas that she would never have thought of.

“Hungry,” Leone reminded her.

Brielle burst out laughing. “You’re impossible. I’m surprised the two of you can even fit into your clothes. You must have super-fast metabolisms. If I ate like you, I wouldn’t be able to even walk on my treadmill.”

“You could stand to put on a couple of pounds,” Raimondo observed. “Not to say,” he added hastily, “that you aren’t filled out in the right places.”

Leone coughed behind his hand. “Talk like that could get you shot. Elie might have this place wired. He’s a jealous man.”

Brielle rolled her eyes. “He is not.” She made her way down the stairs to stand at the bottom, her hands on her hips. “The two of you just make crap up. You’re the gossip team.”

“You don’t think Elie’s the jealous type?” Leone’s eyebrow went up.

“No, I don’t. Jealousy is a really bad character flaw. It doesn’t say nice things about a man at all. In fact, Leone, it means he doesn’t have confidence in himself, which Elie has in abundance, maybe a little too much. And it also means he doesn’t trust his partner.” She flounced past him to go into the kitchen.

Leone exchanged a grin with Raimondo. “I see. No one would ever expect that Elie could possibly have a character flaw.”