Wicked Edge (Realm Enforcers, #2)(46)
“That’s it.” He lifted his hand, and green fire danced across his palm.
She sucked in her stomach, and mini-orgasms rippled through her body. “No.”
“Oh yeah.” He lowered his palm across her chest, and her shirt caught on fire, burning away to embers without harming her. Then he scraped the fire across her breasts, and fire bit into her with an erotic burn.
She cried out and arched against him, needing just a little more friction. Her nipples turned a bright pink and harder than diamonds, their sharp points jutting out. He tweaked one, and she bent into his fingers, the pleasurable pain fuzzing her brain. He turned to the other nipple, tweaking and pinching, finally caressing fire across it.
She tried to rub against him to find relief, but he pressed her too tightly against the tree.
His lips dropped to her ear. “Wanna tell me now?”
Everything in her wanted to give him what he wanted so she could find relief. “No,” she almost sobbed.
“Fair enough.”
Fire crackled near her face, and she jumped. He warmed down her side, along each rib, and then partially slid out of her.
Panic careened through her. “No.”
“Aye.” He reached between them.
So she did the only thing she could. She grabbed on to his hair and thrust her sex right into the fire. Sparks flew, and she detonated. The orgasm shook her with powerful jerks, shooting so much edgy heat through her she could only close her eyes and feel. Her core rippled around his cock, holding with a fierce grip.
He groaned and started to hammer into her, clasping her tight, his body rocking hers. Finally, with a moan, he stilled and dropped his head to her neck.
She slid her arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Her breath panted out against his rapidly moving chest. Slowly, reality returned. Rain dripped down and across her face. She opened her eyes and blinked. The chilly wind caressed her wet shoulders, and bark from the tree scratched her butt.
Daire leaned back, his eyes the dark green of a mountain stream. Without a word, he released her to slide down him, and waited until she’d regained her footing before jerking up her yoga pants and his jeans. His gaze intent, he drew his shirt over his head and then tugged it over her.
She shivered in the wet cotton. Vulnerability and uncertainty stilled any words in her throat.
He ducked his head, and suddenly her stomach hit his shoulder. She coughed out, upside down over the enforcer. “Hey.”
Turning on one thick boot, he jogged back through the forest.
She shook her head, trying not to get dizzy. “Daire? Put me down.” The blood rushed to her face, and she reached out to smack his butt.
He planted one hand gently on her rear end, flattening his fingers in clear warning before turning to nip at her thigh.
She stilled, her head slightly swinging. Water splashed as he gracefully jumped from one rock to the next while crossing the rushing river. The man carried her as if she didn’t weigh a damn thing. She thought of kicking him a good one in the stomach, but if he fell, so would she. Not that he’d fall. Even so, the hand heating her ass by a simple touch remained in place, and those teeth were too close to her vulnerable flesh.
They reached the cabin and crossed inside. Instant warmth soothed over her, and she fought a soft moan. He stalked into a bedroom with a red and silver rug on the floor. The quilted bedspread had matching colors in a comfy country look. The room tilted. He set her down on her feet, holding her forearms until she’d regained her balance.
Quick movements on his part had clothing tossed out of drawers. She scrambled out of the wet clothes and into a dry yoga outfit with dark pants and a light blue shirt. Yet more clothing borrowed from Simone Brightston. The warmth eased Felicity’s shivers, and she rubbed her arms to banish the goose bumps.
Finally, he faced her, his body planted directly between her and the door. “Why did you drug me, Felicity?”
Ivan Bychkov paced his office, staring out at the Seattle skyline in a downtown commercial building. The floor was oak, the walls textured, and the furnishings modern. “That bitch.” Fire roared through him, and for once, he wished he could throw flames like a witch. A bar was set against the far wall, and he eyed the Scotch in the crystal decanter.
Rudger chuckled, seated on a tight leather guest chair across the sprawling desk. “She is innovative.”
Ivan spun around to face his partner, his shoes squeaking on the wooden floor. “Innovative? The sociopath had twelve of our mines blown up. Twelve.” At least four of them would never be operational again. “When we created our partnership, I figured you’d do a better job with security.”
Rudger’s fingers tapped against the arm of his chair. “My brother is checking out the security right now, and since Sjener?se mine is still operational, we’re putting additional forces there. It has enough planekite to suit our immediate needs.”
What had he been thinking, getting involved with witches? Ivan shook his head. “This was a mistake.”
Rudger shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Ivan lowered his chin and studied the witch. Black hair, blue eyes, about four centuries old, Rudger had provided needed capital in exchange for ownership in the planekite mines. “I don’t think you’re quite understanding the issue here,” Ivan ground out, fighting the incredible urge to melt the *’s brain in his head. “All of my mines except for Sjener?se were attacked, including the coal and diamond mines. My people are going to be furious.” Not only were the mines affected, but several of his stock portfolios were facing attack. Felicity had used the last thirty years well, preparing to take him down.