Read Online Darkfire Kiss by Deborah Cooke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deborah Cooke
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alive, whereas she had been marking time, going through the motions. If this was a dream, she wanted to experience every facet of its splendor before she woke up.
Melissa locked her fingers into his hair, loving the luxuriant thickness of it, and hauled him closer. This was no time to be shy, or coy. She wanted him, and she wanted him to know it.
She closed her eyes, slipped her tongue between his teeth, and felt the jolt of his surprise. His pulse pounded beneath her palm, evidence that he was flesh and blood, just like her, independent of his other powers. She felt bold and daring, and his kiss awakened that impetuousness she thought she’d lost forever.
She was alive, and he was here. What else did she need?
Not one thing. Melissa angled her head and tugged him closer, feasting on his mouth. His one hand was spread across the small of her back, under her shirt. His fingers were fanned out, his hand warm and still against her flesh. They were pressed together, the heat of his erection between them, her nipples taut against his chest.
Melissa liked that he was as aroused as she was. He slipped his other hand around her nape, a possessive move that made her feel feminine and fragile; one that made her keenly aware of his power and heat.
Her blood simmered.
Other parts of her hummed.
Then he made a little growl, deep in his throat, and lifted her off the floor, trapping her between his hips and the wall. He felt good—hard and ready—and Melissa purred in response to his ardor. She stole a glimpse of him through her lashes as she wound one leg around his thigh. She’d never been so bold, but he seemed to like it. His eyes glimmered, dark and dangerous; then he pinned her there, both of his hands in her hair. He deepened his kiss until Melissa thought he’d taste her very soul.
He slid his hands down her throat, pushing her crisp white shirt over her shoulders with impatience. It caught against the wall, behind her waist, but Melissa didn’t care. His fingers wandered over her curves, caressing her breast, sliding over the indent of her waist, all without breaking his feverish kiss.
He lifted his head, then, and looked her in the eye, almost willing her to deny him as his hands slid around her collarbone. His fingertips traced eight lines, then halted at the top button of her blouse. He surveyed her, looking very pleased with what he saw, and smiled. Melissa’s heart leapt at his intensity, and her mouth went dry.
“No questions?” he asked, his breath as soft as a summer wind.
There was that knowingness in his eyes, along with the challenge in his words, and Melissa understood what he was asking. The very fact that he asked told her she had nothing to worry about.
At least not immediately.
But still. “Do you ever change without choosing to?”
He shook his head once, so resolute that she knew there was no chance.
She had to know for sure. “During sex?”
Again, he shook his head. “It’s a fighting posture.” He turned his hand and slid his knuckles up her throat, the proprietary gesture and the heat in his dark eyes making Melissa tremble with desire. “We change to defend what matters to us.”
“There are even more of you?”
He smiled, looking a little more dangerous than he had before. “It’s not important now,” he murmured, and Melissa understood.
He was claiming her, for a night at least. If any others chose to attack, he would defend her.
It was more than she had expected him to tell her.
And it pleased her more than she could have anticipated. She wasn’t a woman who needed someone to protect her on a regular basis, but when there were dragons around, it wouldn’t be all bad to have one on her side.
She let her hands dance over his shoulders, then opened his jacket to her own scrutiny. “Maybe I imagined the fights,” she whispered.
“You don’t seem the type to be uncertain of what you’ve witnessed,” he purred.
Melissa slipped her hands into the heat under his
Melissa locked her fingers into his hair, loving the luxuriant thickness of it, and hauled him closer. This was no time to be shy, or coy. She wanted him, and she wanted him to know it.
She closed her eyes, slipped her tongue between his teeth, and felt the jolt of his surprise. His pulse pounded beneath her palm, evidence that he was flesh and blood, just like her, independent of his other powers. She felt bold and daring, and his kiss awakened that impetuousness she thought she’d lost forever.
She was alive, and he was here. What else did she need?
Not one thing. Melissa angled her head and tugged him closer, feasting on his mouth. His one hand was spread across the small of her back, under her shirt. His fingers were fanned out, his hand warm and still against her flesh. They were pressed together, the heat of his erection between them, her nipples taut against his chest.
Melissa liked that he was as aroused as she was. He slipped his other hand around her nape, a possessive move that made her feel feminine and fragile; one that made her keenly aware of his power and heat.
Her blood simmered.
Other parts of her hummed.
Then he made a little growl, deep in his throat, and lifted her off the floor, trapping her between his hips and the wall. He felt good—hard and ready—and Melissa purred in response to his ardor. She stole a glimpse of him through her lashes as she wound one leg around his thigh. She’d never been so bold, but he seemed to like it. His eyes glimmered, dark and dangerous; then he pinned her there, both of his hands in her hair. He deepened his kiss until Melissa thought he’d taste her very soul.
He slid his hands down her throat, pushing her crisp white shirt over her shoulders with impatience. It caught against the wall, behind her waist, but Melissa didn’t care. His fingers wandered over her curves, caressing her breast, sliding over the indent of her waist, all without breaking his feverish kiss.
He lifted his head, then, and looked her in the eye, almost willing her to deny him as his hands slid around her collarbone. His fingertips traced eight lines, then halted at the top button of her blouse. He surveyed her, looking very pleased with what he saw, and smiled. Melissa’s heart leapt at his intensity, and her mouth went dry.
“No questions?” he asked, his breath as soft as a summer wind.
There was that knowingness in his eyes, along with the challenge in his words, and Melissa understood what he was asking. The very fact that he asked told her she had nothing to worry about.
At least not immediately.
But still. “Do you ever change without choosing to?”
He shook his head once, so resolute that she knew there was no chance.
She had to know for sure. “During sex?”
Again, he shook his head. “It’s a fighting posture.” He turned his hand and slid his knuckles up her throat, the proprietary gesture and the heat in his dark eyes making Melissa tremble with desire. “We change to defend what matters to us.”
“There are even more of you?”
He smiled, looking a little more dangerous than he had before. “It’s not important now,” he murmured, and Melissa understood.
He was claiming her, for a night at least. If any others chose to attack, he would defend her.
It was more than she had expected him to tell her.
And it pleased her more than she could have anticipated. She wasn’t a woman who needed someone to protect her on a regular basis, but when there were dragons around, it wouldn’t be all bad to have one on her side.
She let her hands dance over his shoulders, then opened his jacket to her own scrutiny. “Maybe I imagined the fights,” she whispered.
“You don’t seem the type to be uncertain of what you’ve witnessed,” he purred.
Melissa slipped her hands into the heat under his
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