Page 39 of Fire's Storm
He braces one knee on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Then he crawls toward me with predatory grace, like a storm advancing over mountains. The sight of him—powerful, dangerous, focused entirely on me—sends a fresh rush of heat between my thighs.
He pauses above me, massive arms caging me in without touching. Heat radiates from his skin like a furnace, histemperature even higher than my elevated one. A drop of sweat slides between my breasts, and his eyes track it with laser focus.
"You're burning up," he murmurs, lowering his head to lick the salt from my skin.
The sensation of his hot tongue against my sternum tears a gasp from my throat. He smiles against my skin, a predator's smile.
"You taste like lightning," he says, continuing his path downward.
My back arches as his mouth closes around my nipple. Sparks dance across my skin where his tongue touches me, literal electricity passing between us. The dual sensation—the heat of his mouth and the sharp zing of our energy connection—sends pleasure spiraling through me.
"Vulcan," I gasp, fingers tangling in his midnight-blue hair.
He rumbles in approval, the vibration transferring from his chest to mine. His hand slides down my side, tracing patterns that leave trails of fire in their wake. When his fingers find the wetness between my thighs, we both groan.
"So ready," he growls against my breast. "So perfect for me."
I want to argue that I'm not perfect for anyone—I'm stubborn and difficult and independent to a fault. But then his thumb finds the sensitive bundle of nerves at my center, and coherent thought dissolves.
My hips buck against his hand. "More," I demand, never one to beg.
He raises his head, midnight-blue eyes meeting mine. "Anything you want," he promises, with a sincerity that pierces through my defenses. "Everything you need."
There's a vulnerability in his expression that catches me off guard. This powerful creature, centuries old, looks at me like I hold his heart in my hands.
The realization steals my breath more effectively than his touch.
His fingers continue their exploration, discovering places that make me gasp and arch. I'm not passive—my hands map the contours of his body, learning the feel of him, the places where scales give way to skin, the sensitive spots that make his breath catch.
When he positions himself between my thighs, he pauses, searching my face. "You're sure?"
The question surprises me. After everything we've been through—the trial, the bond, the unavoidable pull between us—he still seeks confirmation.
I wrap my legs around his hips in answer, pulling him closer. "Yes," I say, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm sure."
The first push of his body into mine draws a sound from my throat I've never made before—part gasp, part growl. The stretch is intense, borderline uncomfortable, but my body adjusts quickly, welcoming him.
"Phoenix," he groans, holding himself still with visible effort. Sweat beads on his forehead, his powerful arms trembling with the strain of restraint.
I reach up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with my fingertips. Electricity dances between us, visible sparks jumping from my skin to his. "Move," I urge.
He does, setting a rhythm that starts gently but quickly becomes more demanding as my body responds. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, amplified by the electrical current flowing between us.
I've had sex before—good sex, even. But nothing like this. This is elemental. Primal. Every sensation magnified beyond human limits.
Lightning races across my skin in geometric patterns, blue-white energy that matches the storm building inside me.Vulcan's skin responds with patterns of his own, our energies dancing together, intertwining like our bodies.
The pleasure builds faster than I'm prepared for, coiling tight at my core. I fight it, not ready for this to end.
"Let go," Vulcan urges, his voice strained. "I feel you fighting it. Let go, Phoenix."
"Not yet," I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.
He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and stars explode behind my eyes. "Yes," he growls, satisfaction evident in his tone. "There."
The pressure becomes unbearable, pleasure so intense it borders on pain. My control shatters. Release crashes through me in waves, tearing a cry from my throat that doesn't sound human.
Lightning erupts from my skin, actual electrical discharge that would kill a normal man. Vulcan doesn't just survive it—he thrives in it, his own energy meeting mine, amplifying it, completing the circuit.
