Fire and Flame (23 page)

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Authors: Anya Breton

Tags: #Paranormal, #Witches

BOOK: Fire and Flame
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Several times he forgot to call her princess—instead hoarsely calling her name. Brent had work to do if he wanted to be able to make her blush when he used the title around others. He wanted her to remember when she’d shook and pled in his arms each time he looked deep in her eyes and murmured the pet name. And he wanted to know she’d be slick for his touch without having to lay a finger on her.

The mere thought of it sent him shooting across the final barrier. Brent went rigid as pure sensation exploded through him. And then he rained seed within her that would one day link Sara to him forever.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sara couldn’t have moved to save her life. She didn’t complain when Brent rolled onto her right side and left his arm circling her waist possessively. A mind that had been pleasantly mush slowly woke. He was in her bed nestled within the pink frills he’d mocked.

His searing tongue closed over her nipple. Her eyelids snapped wide.

“Brent!” she exclaimed when she found him, in fact, bent over her, helping himself to what she had to offer.

With a wicked smile hovered over her nipple he replied, “Princess.”

She hardly knew how to react. He’d insisted he didn’t mean the term as an insult. Looking at him now with a mischievous gleam in his eye, she believed him. And then she caught sight of something truly disturbing.

“Good god!”

Brent immediately sat upright, exacerbating the problem because the erect organ between his thighs was fully visible. “What?” He asked warily.

“You’re…you’re already hard?”

His dark eyebrows lifted in the dim light cast by the moon. Brent glanced down at himself then back to her. “Yes? Is that a problem?”

“It’s only been like two minutes!”

The rest of his features widened in surprise. “I could have been ready after two seconds.”

“Two seconds,” she heard herself practically scream. “That’s not… That’s not even natural!”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Sara, it’s completely natural for a witch.”

Brent set his palm to her mons, slipping his fingers within her folds for his torturous massage. Her body immediately reacted with a lifted temperature from the remembered pleasure.

His eyes held hers when he asked, “You’ve never been with a witch?”

Sara shifted her head toward the window. After a beat she shook her chin from side to side in answer.

He delved his fingers inside her, mimicking the sex act they’d recently completed. Her breath caught. She was every bit as ready for another round as he was.

Yet he wasn’t finished with his questions. “Not even in Pennsylvania when you were away from Fintan’s influence?”

Again she shook her head.

He ground his hand against her clitoris while thrusting those same fingers into her, driving her half out of her mind.

“Why not?”

She found it difficult to breathe with him touching her like this but she didn’t want him to stop. “Daddy said I couldn’t until I’d done my duty.”

“He wasn’t there. He wouldn’t have known if you’d been careful. Did you avoid the local covens?”

“I couldn’t avoid the local covens,” she quickly replied. “Not as the regional high priest’s daughter. Daddy made me join them for their monthly activities.”

“Then was there no one you liked?”

“Not really.”

“You weren’t in the least bit curious?”

“Sure I was curious but Daddy said no.”

“You regularly ignored Fintan’s wishes on other things. Why not this?”

Sara forced her eyelids open. His face was set with several deep lines around his eyes. Waves had formed in his ordinarily smooth forehead. Was that confusion or anger? Why was he getting worked up over this particular topic?

She couldn’t resist a little taunting. “Did you want me to, Brent?”

“No,” he nearly roared.

His vehement answer pleased her but they were back to the original problem now. “Am I a freak because I was never with a witch?”

“No, you’re not a freak.” The lines around his features eased as he allowed his gaze to sweep down her, warming her everywhere it touched. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not beautiful compared to most witches.”

Brent’s response was a quick, surprised laugh. “You don’t really believe that?” The lifting of his pitch at the end implied it was a question rather than a statement.

“I do believe that. I always have.”

“By the Phoenix, Sara, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Each time I see you, I think you’re prettier than the last.”

That had been a firm tone. He truly believed it. This wasn’t one of his little white lies to smooth over a tender ego. Sara didn’t stop her smile.

“And like this,” he reverted to his huskier tone as his fingers resumed their motions between her legs, “you’re ethereal.”

“Ethereal,” she repeated with a shaky chuckle.

“Let me show you what else a witch can do that a human can’t.”

Her mouth formed a perfect circle. “Oh.”

Concentration lines formed between Brent’s eyes. His fingers warmed noticeably—just on the edge of pain. A human would have screamed but for a Fire witch…it had to be foreplay.

“Oh!”

He twisted them within her in a mind-blowing fashion. Brent withdrew the digits only to lower his head. The slick slide of his tongue cooled the throbbing flesh. Brent repeated the action a mere four times before she exploded into another perfectly amazing orgasm.

“Princess,” he groaned as he covered her with his feverish body then slowly pushed his still erect organ within her.

Weak from the second orgasm, she could do nothing but lay motionless, allowing him to use her body. Sara didn’t particularly mind him using her this way. Because what Brent lacked in size or girth, he made up for in heat and skill. Her mouth even curved into a small smile at his use of the hated nickname.

He soon showed her what he’d done with his fingers could be done with any skin. Sara dug into her scalp each time he’d heat himself nearly scalding before immediately resuming body temperature to give her a quick thrill. Perhaps the reminder they could both hurt each other intensely yet chose to bring each other pleasure instead was what made sex spiced with magic twice as sexy.

Whatever the case may have been, Brent’s thrusts soon quickened and she lost all thought. Body primed, the metaphorical flame of orgasm engulfed her a half second before he shouted, “Phoenix,” to the ceiling. Together they collapsed on her pink bed, panting from another wonderful coupling.

****

Sara awoke gradually. She was rather warm. She wasn’t alone. And she was tender in places she hadn’t known existed.

Gingerly she opened her eyes and discovered Brent curled beside her. Though he was facing her, his legs were drawn up nearly to his chest, and his face was buried in her pillow in a strangely boyish pose. How could he be comfortable with his bare back nearly hanging over the edge of the bed? Surely he was cold. He could have at least shared the blanket stretched over her torso.

Brent came awake all at once. He lifted his head, eyes wide and wary. His attention darted around the room as though searching out foes. They soon settled on her face. And then he dropped his gaze to the breasts she hadn’t covered.

A low groan escaped him. The organ quickly stiffening beside her caught her off-guard.

She made no effort to hide her focus. Pink spread across his cheeks. Was he embarrassed by his body’s rapid reaction? If he were, it didn’t last long. Brent’s mouth closed over the breast closest to him. She automatically arched against him, shocking even herself with how quickly she’d come alive at his touch.

Neither of them heard the footsteps on the stairs but they were both startled by the knock on the door. Brent quickly covered her breasts with the blanket then grumbled against her neck. He was still hard and ready along her thigh above the blanket. A whimper was stifled though Sara didn’t know who it had belonged to.

“Sara,” the deep voice belonging to Derrick called from the corridor. “Is Brent…with you?”

Sara’s face heated because the entire coven was about to find out what she’d been doing with Brent for the past two nights.

He cast her a brief glance then turned his attention to the door. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“Vanessa just got here,” Derrick replied with little opinion coloring his voice. “She thinks she knows who owns the black pickup you saw out in Franklin.”

Sara’s body stiffened beneath Brent.
Vanessa
was why they’d been interrupted.

He quietly cursed their patron the Phoenix before responding. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Derrick paused a handful of seconds, perhaps awaiting more orders, before his steps pounded down the stairs. Neither Sara nor Brent moved until the other witch’s feet hit the first floor.

Brent focused his attention once more on her face, tilting his head slightly to the left. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He flashed her the mischievous smile she’d seen only in moonlight until now. “Leaving you quivering.”

A surprised laugh escaped her before she could hide it. “Oh, I’m quivering, am I?”

His gaze widened slightly before his lips set in determination. With a quick motion, he drug away the security of her blanket and then plunged his mouth to the junction of her thighs.

Within a heartbeat she was quite literally quivering as his tongue dove between her folds, finding the sensitive bud they hid. And then he was scrambling off the bed. Brent’s wicked grin as he reached down for his jeans where they lay on the floor made her quiver even more.

“That was evil.” Her lips pursed in a childish pout she did nothing to ease.

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

As if realizing what he’d said, his expression shuttered into something taut. Compressed lips and lowered lashes gave him the appearance of grim moroseness. He turned his back to zip his pants and gather his shirt but perhaps the motion had been meant to hide the reaction from her.

Drawing on courage from an unknown source, she said, “Okay.”

Brent sent a look over his shoulder. The dark lines of his brows lifted nearly to his hairline. His jaw was propped on his shoulder as if it needed the resting place to avoid dropping to the floor. “What?”

Damn him for making her repeat it.

She drew in a quick breath. “I said, ‘Okay.’”

Slowly he faced her as he drew his knit top over his toned chest. And slower still he moved toward the bed, bending toward her like he meant to give her a kiss.

Perhaps his sudden shift from playful to morose could be explained by the same emotion that had led him to be cruel to her for years. Wanting to see his smile again, she grabbed hold of his cheeks, bringing him closer, and then she infused the passion she felt for him into her kiss.

His chest rumbled with a deep moan as his hands slipped around her neck. When he tried to climb atop her again, she laughed against his mouth, gently pushing at him as a reminder he had places to be.

“No fair,” she told him. “You have to leave quivering just as much as me.”

Brent chuckled in genuine amusement while drawing to the edge of the bed. He was smiling! And Brent had a beautiful smile. Had she thought he wasn’t gorgeous by witch standards? Now she saw her mistake.

Dimples formed in his cheeks when they were spread wide. His teeth were surely the model for orthodontists the world around. But above all, it was the warm squint of his laughing eyes that improved his appearance.

“Princesses aren’t supposed to be evil,” he teased.

Thanks to the oddity of a seemingly happy Brent, it was a moment before she understood what he’d said. Sara cackled madly. “Just you wait.”

“I’m not good at waiting.” After a beat he winked at her and added, “It makes me surly and miserable.” On his way to the door, he called back, “Come down when you can.”

She stared at the back of the door once he’d disappeared behind it. What had he meant? If he’d actually wanted her involved in the discussion, he would have told her to hurry up and ready, wouldn’t he? But if he hadn’t wanted her involved, he could have said nothing at all.

Maybe if he hadn’t muddled her mind with winks and smiles, she would have been able to ask him what he’d meant.

But Sara decided she wouldn’t trade a happy Brent for anything…even understanding.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Brent had never understood what people meant when they used the phrase, “like winning the lottery,” until now. He’d never been happier than when Sara had kissed him without a seduction being involved. He felt richer than the billionaires on the Forbes list.

He was still beaming when he stepped through the office door and found Derrick standing over Vanessa. The female witch sat in front of the desk facing the bookcases. Though she hadn’t been smiling, the witch hadn’t looked legitimately angry until she’d noted Brent’s arrival. Her eyes scanned down him, scrutinizing his rumpled T-shirt and messy hair. Brent lifted his eyebrows at her as he continued into the room. He took up the spot to the left of Fintan’s desk.

Derrick made a slight rocking motion toward her, perhaps a nudge. Vanessa spoke up. Her expression echoed her sour delivery. “I think the pickup that went after you belongs to my boyfriend’s brother.”

After a blissful night, Brent had almost forgotten he had violent problems to tackle. “Where can I find him?”

“He lives in a trailer park in Muncie.”

He and Derrick exchanged a knowing look. “I guess we’re going to Muncie.” Brent hissed softly. “But I said we’d replace Sara’s car as soon as possible.”

“He works until six on Saturdays,” the female witch added.

That Vanessa sounded helpful now when she’d been pissed a moment ago was strange but the news suited Brent. He’d have time to dirty Sara a little more before he let her get clean, and then they could go car shopping. Brent liked the idea of making a large purchase with her. It would bond them together.

Water slapping the tile floor in Sara’s shower echoed from above. Damn. It was too late to dirty her before the shower. But perfect timing to join her.

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