Burning Violet_Lick of Fire Page 9

  “I haven’t touched a woman in five months,” he said gruffly. “I’m not going to last.”

  “Who asked you to?” she shot back.

  She held his gaze until he realized that she meant it. He didn’t let go of her hair but allowed her to lower her mouth to his cock once more. She redoubled her efforts, keeping an eye on him as much as she could, although she didn’t try to figure out what he liked best. She’d have plenty of time for that later. For now, all she wanted was to give him the same pleasure he’d offered her—and the release he must sorely need after months of isolation.

  She didn’t try to tease him or make it last, and merely settled on making him come. As he’d warned her, it didn’t take long before he did, his wordless cry filling the room.

  The heat coming from him felt luxurious as she nestled against his chest. She listened to his hammering heartbeat, content to wait until he was ready for the next round.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, and she was drifting into a comfortable half-sleep when Idris spoke, his words quiet, a hint of forced derision coloring them.

  “A blowjob isn’t going to change my mind, you know.”

  She made a little sound, low in her throat, before managing to push words out.

  “About what?”

  “About going to that Sanctuary of yours.”

  It took a few seconds for the words to make sense. She’d certainly not been thinking about this now, which made her wonder why he had. Could it be that the gentleman protested too much and wanted to be convinced?

  “Is revenge really that important?” she asked gently, keeping her voice neutral.

  His body tensed against hers.

  “Five months of my life were stolen from me. I was starved. I was beaten. I was experimented on. I was—”

  She stopped him with the gentlest of kisses, caressing his face with her fingertips in what she hoped was a soothing gesture.

  “I know,” she murmured. “I know what they do in those places. That’s why I joined the squad. To get as many paras out as possible.”

  He tilted his head to one side, pressing his cheek a little more into her hand as he considered her.

  “If that’s so important for you, why did you throw it all away to come after me? You haven’t even tried to take your motorcycle key from me.”

  She regretted suddenly that she hadn’t managed to tell him they were mates much sooner. She’d had time to wrap her mind around the idea, and even after only a day she felt like she’d known him all her life. But how did he feel? What did he think of her? He enjoyed her company enough to be in her bed right now, but could he see anything beyond that?

  “Idris,” she started, choking a little on his name, “I—”

  But the confession she wanted to offer died on her lips when he grabbed her hands from his face and pushed her off him, sitting at her side and looking down at her.

  “What did you just call me?” he asked, a hint of panic seeping through his words before he caught himself. “Who told you—”

  “Your brother. Back in the safe house, when you stole my bike.”

  For a moment, he looked completely bewildered, as though she were speaking in tongues.

  “My brother told you my name?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Why?”

  He sounded genuinely confused, and Violet had to hide a smile. He’d been so sure of himself since they’d met, taking everything in stride, it was odd to finally see him off balance.

  “Take a guess,” she said.

  All he did was stare at her.

  “You still haven’t asked me what my name is. I think maybe that’s because you know. Or suspect.”

  “I don’t…” he started, but didn’t finish the thought and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment. Did he think it’d be enough to make her disappear?

  She waited until he’d dropped his hands again before she said, “My wrist has been bare practically since you entered the room. Haven’t you been tempted to peek, not even for a second?”

  She raised her hand toward him, her wrist out like an offering, but he closed his fingers over it without glancing down at his name.

  “Don’t,” he said quietly.

  “Don’t what?” she challenged. “Wear your name on my skin? I don’t have much of a choice about that, do I? Even if I burned it off like you’re doing, it’d still be there. Pretending otherwise won’t change anything. I’m here, and so are you. And I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

  Hadn’t she always looked for him? Hadn’t she waited with a half-formed hope, every time she’d met a new boy when she was a child, a new male teenager when she was adolescent, a new adult man when she’d grown, to hear them say they were called Idris?

  In answer, he gave her a twisted smile that made something tighten painfully deep inside her.

  “And I’ve been hoping I’d never meet you for probably just as long.”

  Letting go of her hand, he turned away and sat on the side of the bed. Afraid he’d leave now, she rested a hand on his back, a silent plea for him to stay. He felt even hotter now than he had earlier, and she shivered.

  “We met just one day ago,” she murmured, “and yet here we are. Sharing a bed. There’s something between us. You can’t deny it.”

  He snorted, his body moving under her hand but without dislodging it.

  “I’d have taken anyone to bed tonight,” he said harshly. “Any woman’s pussy would have done the job.”

  The words were meant to wound Violet and push her away. She refused to let them touch her. If he wanted to scare her off, he’d have to try a lot harder.

  “Is that so?” she asked. “Turn around, look at me straight in the eye when you say that, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

  She wanted to crow when he did no such thing, but contained herself. This was a battle she wouldn’t lose, whatever it took. But Idris wasn’t done fighting yet.

  “You don’t understand.” His words turned deathly cold. “I burn things. I burn people. Every person I ever gave a damn about has paid for it. Every woman. If I ever had a mate—”

  “You have a mate,” she cut in softly. “She’s right here. And she sure as hell isn’t worried about a little heat.”

  He stood and turned to her, his eyes flashing. Warmth radiated from him in suddenly stronger waves.

  “A little heat?” he repeated, a growl in his words. “Have you heard a single word of what I said?”

  “I have.” Violet kept her voice calm in response to his growing agitation. “And I believe you. I believe you’re scared as hell to hurt me. But do you know what I believe in, too? This.”

  She extended her arm toward him, once again showing him the tattoo. His eyes remained on hers for a long moment, burning bright, before he finally looked down. He blinked, a visible shiver shaking his body. All the fight seemed to drain out of him at this tangible proof that something had existed between them before they’d ever laid eye on each other.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed, still staring at his name on her skin.

  “You won’t,” she murmured, taking his hand in hers. “I know you won’t. I trust you.”

  She drew him forward. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to her. She kept his hand in her own and cupped his face with the other one, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she kissed him gently once, then twice. The third time, he seemed to wake up from a daze and surged forward, pushing her back against the pillows as he covered her body with his own.

  If things had been intense earlier, he was now kicking the heat up a notch, devouring her mouth before pressing ardent kisses to her neck and shoulders that she returned with interest.

  They rolled back and forth on the bed, their hands roaming and fanning the flames of their mutual desire. His cock was hard and burning against her, leaving wet trails against her thighs and stomach. She took hold of it to give it a few hard strokes, reaching out toward the night table with her free hand. Sh
e had to let go of him and pull away to grab a condom—Linda kept her rooms stocked with anything her guests might need.

  Soon Violet was tearing off the foil package and stealing just a kiss to the tip before she started rolling the condom down. His arms crossed behind his head, he watched her intently, his breaths already coming out short and quick. When she moved to straddle him, he uncoiled all of a sudden and rolled her over.

  Poised over her, his cock merely nudging at her opening, he gave her a long look, his gaze seemingly plunging right into her soul. He was barely touching her, and yet she was burning, inside and out.

  “Please,” she breathed.

  The word spurred him back into action. He hiked her legs up around his waist and, with a push of his hips, entered her hard.

  He took her fast, grunts accompanying each thrust, and it was all she could do to cling to him. Small moans rose from her lips every so often as he inexorably pushed her onto the path toward the light. His eyes never left hers, and she wondered what he was seeing there. Earlier, he’d claimed any woman would have done the job, but that look said something entirely different.

  Touching his face softly, she whispered his name, the way she’d whispered it so many times to herself across the years. He slowed down and leaned in to press a brief kiss to her lips. When their eyes locked again, something had changed, and she felt like she could look deep inside him too. The heat coming from him felt glorious everywhere he touched her. She moved with him, and as earlier they immediately found a rhythm together.

  She’d always wondered if being with her mate would be different. Now she knew. It wasn’t just different. It was everything she’d never even known she yearned for.

  She held him close as pleasure took her and felt him shudder against her as he followed her. Her arms tightened a little more still; she never wanted to let go again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Long shadows stretched through the courtyard, accentuating angles and giving the buildings a surreal feel. The sun had been up for less than an hour. Idris should have left long before that.

  The gravel crunched under his boots as he pushed the bike out of the barn. He’d start it once he was at the end of the driveway, far enough from the house that he wouldn’t wake Ladybird.

  He knew her name now, but he still couldn’t manage to use it, not even in his own mind. All his life, he’d thought of the name ‘Violet’ with some trepidation and wariness. Part of him wanted to meet her, to know who she was, and what it was that made her the best possible person to be in his life. And part of him knew that he wasn’t fit to be in anyone’s life for very long, so why torture himself by getting to know her then leaving?

  He wished he’d let her tell him before they’d slept together. He’d have left right then and there.

  Unless…

  Could she be right? Could something inside him have guessed, even if he hadn’t allowed himself to become fully aware of it?

  He shook his head and walked a little faster. Of course he hadn’t known. He wasn’t a telepath like his brother. And god, the next time he laid eyes on Chris, he was going to give him a piece of his mind! He knew exactly how Idris felt about finding his tattoo mate. Why on Earth had he sent Ladybird after him?

  “Coward.”

  The word splashed over Idris like cold mud. His spine turned to steel and he froze, slowly turning back toward the house. Linda stood by the door, one hand holding her shawl closed at her throat against the morning chill.

  “You’re a coward,” she said, a little louder. “Whatever you’re running to, it’s not worth what you’re running from.”

  “Beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said coolly, “but what I do doesn’t concern you in any way.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. You’re letting your fear and anger lead you. Fear and anger are exactly why the world is in this sorry shape. Hope and love, those are the things that will save us all. And you’re running away from them. From her.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He laughed. Hope and love would save them all? Aside from spouting trite platitudes, she clearly didn’t live in the same world he did. And she clearly had never set foot in a government jail.

  “I’m not running from her,” he said, climbing on the bike. No doubt she’d wake Ladybird as soon as he left, so there was no point in being quiet anymore. “I’m saving her life.”

  She didn’t raise her voice, but he still heard her clearly over the rumbling of the engine.

  “Not just a coward, but selfish, too.”

  The words echoed in his mind as he drove away. He made the engine roar to fill his head with noise, but even so that little old lady’s voice remained with him, causing him to wonder once more if she was a telepath.

  Whatever she was, he told himself repeatedly as he drove down narrow roads, only occasionally crossing paths with a car or even sometimes a horse carriage, she was wrong. This was the right thing to do. He’d known it would be the right thing to do long before he’d ever met his tattoo mate. How could he stay with someone who would love him beyond everything, whom he was destined to love just as much, when he knew he’d risk hurting her every time he laid a hand on her?

  He’d felt it last night. He’d felt that raging inferno that, all his life, had awakened whenever his emotions got the best of him. It had taken everything he had in him not to let it burn what he touched to cinders—Ladybird included.

  When he was only five, he’d had a tantrum on the playground when other children refused to let him play with their ball. The authorities had claimed it was a lightning strike that had struck the jungle gym and scorched part of it beyond recognition.

  Two years later, he’d almost burned down his own house when his parents wouldn’t allow him to go to camp for the summer like his brother. They claimed it was too dangerous for him to go because of his power. At the time, small flames sometimes leaped from his fingertips when he was focused intently on something. That, at least, had gone away in time, but his parents had learned to keep fire extinguishers in every room in case his temper flared up.

  Scared of what he could do by accident but even more so of what would happen to him if the authorities took him, his parents had done their best to teach him ways to control his anger. He’d learned breathing techniques and meditation mantras at the age when other children learned addition. They’d practiced with him every morning before school, and for the most part he’d remained safe during his schooling.

  A few of the desks he had occupied over the years would show burnt marks among old bits of gum if they were flipped upside down, but no one had ever noticed his brief flare-ups. He’d also learned to recognize when his anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness—and in his later years, sexual desire—were growing too much despite his best efforts, at which point, with his parents’ blessing, he’d find a way to sneak out of school. Better for him to get in trouble for skipping classes than for burning down the school with his peers and teachers inside it.

  Even without incident, his behavior had been strange enough that he was sometimes called a weirdo across the years. After his first kiss—the girl in question had been sure to tell everyone what he’d done to her, even if she had no idea how he could have done it—he’d all but become a pariah. He’d finished his high school years only at his parents’ insistence, scraping just enough average grades to graduate. He’d never even considered continuing his education after that.

  He tried to shake off the onslaught of memories, and as he rode the motorcycle up a highway ramp and accelerated probably beyond what was safe, he managed to leave them behind for a little while. But he couldn’t keep up at this speed; attracting the attention of the police would be the worst mistake he could do right now. He reluctantly brought the bike down to the speed limit, and his memories caught up with him once more.

  Images rolled over him, and with each one emotions burst within him that he had to fight back to remain calm. Eight years had passed since his graduation—e
ight years during which he’d drifted through his own life, never settling down anywhere for more than a few months. He’d kept in touch with his parents and brother intermittently, but always refused to go home for more than a few hours at a time. He knew, even if they’d never said anything, that they all slept better without the threat of being burned alive in the middle of the night looming over them.

  And that threat had been real. There had been incidents over the years. Fires he hadn’t meant to start… and fires he had started on purpose. With nothing to his name but the bitterness of what he was, he’d learned to use pyromancy as a weapon. He’d become very good at it. And that was one more reason for him not to visit his family: they wouldn’t take the news that he’d become a thief and arsonist all that well.

  Neither thing had seemed to trouble Ladybird in the least, he recalled suddenly. She’d only warned him against attracting attention.

  The burst of affection he felt at the thought of her took him aback. He barely knew her at all! What was there for him to feel affectionate about? This tattoo thing was just messing with his head.

  With or without cause, the thought of her remained at the back of his mind as he rode the bike south. When he stopped for gas, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder as he filled the tank, all but certain she’d appear out of nowhere. It was the same thing when he ate a late lunch in a fast food restaurant; no one joined him in the booth he chose, but until he left he was sure that she would. And that night, as he lay in an uncomfortable bed in a clean but bland motel room, every little noise seemed magnified, every sound the precursor to her arrival. He managed to get a few fitful hours of sleep, but by morning he was still alone.

  “So much for fated mates,” he muttered to his reflection as he passed two flame-tipped fingers over the stubble that covered his cheeks. “She clings to me for a full day, welcomes me into her bed, and that’s it. She’s not even trying to get me back or anything. True love for sure!”