Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(63)

“Then we’ll be fine.” I smiled to reassure him. It wasn’t like I could get pregnant; my nature saw to that. If he said he was always careful, I was willing to go on a little bit of faith.

His gaze traveled over my body, burning a path as it went, and I could tell he was weighing up the risks. I could see the exact second his body took over the decision and made it impossible for him to stop.

Nodding his head, he indicated that I should shift farther up the bed. I scuttled backward without argument and with a giggle rushing from my lips. He climbed back onto the bed, stalking my movements until he reached me. When he had, he wrapped his arms around me and tenderly touched his lips to mine.

Pouring every emotion into my kisses, I demonstrated what a few years of pent up desire and hope for our reunion had done to me. I wanted him to know how much I needed him. That regardless of how much I’d changed since the last time we’d met, I still felt the same way about him.

About us.

He kissed me with the same fervor. Our tongues revealed all of our secrets without words. Without thought or confirmation, our bodies shifted so that we were aligned perfectly. His erection pressed against my thigh, making my mouth water with want all over again. I was so desperate and ready for him. All I wanted was for him to tilt his hips forward. Instead, he lifted his lips from mine and peppered light kisses along my throat.

While he lavished attention on me, he propped himself up on one elbow. With his free hand, he trailed his fingers through my hair and down one of my cheeks. Every path his fingertips took was on fire. His gaze shifted back to my face after I issued a small sigh. It was as if he was concentrating on the two features that set me apart from everybody else. The ones that labeled me a monster to so many.

Rather than being repulsed by them though, he seemed in awe of me. I’d never experienced so much love or desire. His burning touch was more than anything Brian or Aiden had ever been able to achieve. Nothing had ever been so right.

“So beautiful,” he said again when I met his gaze.

His words inspired a warmth to rush over my body. He tipped his head forward and his lips caressed mine.

“Clay, please.” I panted when he drew away. “I’ve waited long enough for you.”

A small frown marred his forehead as his free hand trailed lazy circles over my skin. Love echoed through every movement; yet he made no move to take our union further.

It was almost as if he’d stalled at the last, vital second.

I met his gaze again and hidden in the depths of his chocolate irises, beneath the layers of desire and love, was the smallest hint of fear. I had no idea what he was afraid of. It was logical, given how he’d been raised, that he might have been afraid of me, but I didn’t think that was what it was.

Not when his eyes burned with a need so fierce.

The words I’d uttered ran through my mind. As they did, his concern made some sense. I’d told him twice now that I’d dreamed of this moment. Longed for it. The weight of the expectations that came with such a wait was enormous. As his tender ministrations continued, I became more convinced that he was afraid to let me down.

Or maybe the opposite was true.

Regardless, I just needed to show him what I knew to be true . . . that us together would be perfect. It was impossible to imagine anything less.

Reaching one arm behind his neck, I guided his lips back to mine. As his tongue traced my lips, I trailed my other hand down between our bodies and lined up his erection with my entrance. Without giving him a chance to resist, I pushed my hips forward.

His cry of pleasure as he entered me was muffled by my kisses, but my bold move was all it took for him to become a man possessed. Without any hesitation, he rocked his hips forward to press deeper. With each new thrust, he pushed further into me. Our union was so perfect, I was left breathless and desperate for more. Each thrust sent me into new heights. I’d been wrong to think I’d ever made love before—nothing could hold a candle to being with Clay.

Holding me close to him, he spun us around so he was on top.

“Fuck, Evie,” he whispered against my throat as he slid himself almost all the way out before rushing back in.

He set a relentless rhythm. When I sat back, his free hand clutched at my hair, my shoulder, my hips, anywhere and everywhere seemingly all at once. I wrapped my legs around his waist, granting him more room for movement, and finding a deeper angle.

His pupils were wide, making his eyes appear black and feral with need, when he looked at me. Now that he was free of the fear of disappointment—his or mine—his rhythm was almost punishing, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted him deeper, closer. Lips to lips, body to body, we held each other until he tumbled over the edge of oblivion, and with his fingers brought me trailing right behind.





WHEN I woke, I was nestled into the nook between Clay’s armpit and chest and the room was dark. With the thick curtains, it was impossible to tell whether it was midnight or mid-morning, but the time didn’t matter. What mattered was how perfect the moment was. How wonderful it was being back by Clay’s side and knowing that we’d face whatever came next together. I closed my eyes again and breathed in his scent. After a moment, his fingers began to stroke a repetitive pattern up and down my arm.

“You awake?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said in a voice thick with sleep and tinged with desire.