Light My Fire

  “We won’t know for sure one way or another for at least a month or so,” he said mildly.

  Gabriel’s eyes, which had been interested before, just about popped out of his head. “You’re pregnant?”

  “No! Drake’s insane, nothing more,” I snapped, setting down my glass. “And I’m tired. So if you’ll forgive me, gentleman and irritating wyvern, I’m going to take my skewered belly to bed. Thank you again for the medical care, Gabriel, and I’m very happy to see you again.”

  I marched out of the room and up the stairs and was almost to my room when Nora emerged from the bathroom.

  “Oh, Nora, I’m glad to see you…. Yes, thanks, it’s much better. Gabriel looked at it, and you know what a wonder he is with healing.”

  “That is his talent, yes,” she said, tightening the belt to a bathrobe she’d borrowed from the things Drake had bought me.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the imps.” I paused to rub my head. I was so tired, I could hardly think. “What can we do about them?”

  “Tonight? Nothing other than what we have done. I’ve warded the windows, and Drake assures me his alarm system is sensitive enough to pick up even imps. You look like you need some sleep.”

  I laughed an exhausted laugh. “It’s been a long day. If you’re sure there’s nothing else I need to be doing about them, I’m going to hit the hay.”

  “Nothing more. Jim had its evening walkies with Paco, so you shouldn’t need to bother with that. I believe it’s already gone to bed.”

  “Yeah, the digital cable TV package Drake gets should keep it busy for a long time. Night.”

  “Good night. Sleep well.”

  I toddled off to our room, not seeing anyone else. Less than five minutes later I was asleep, but I dreamt of flames and destruction, and a river of ice that slowly wrapped itself around me, consuming all until there was nothing left but a frigid core of despair.

  14

  “Brrr. Drake?” I murmured sleepily as the bed dipped behind me. I cracked my eyes open to squint up at the man barely visible in the dim light. “What time is it?”

  “Late. Do you wish to sleep?”

  His voice was deep, rich with desire and promise, but it wasn’t that which sent a little shiver of cold down my body. It was the ice cube he rubbed in tiny little circles on my shoulder. “That depends. Did you see Nine and a Half Weeks, too?”

  “I do not often see films,” he answered, using the ice cube to trace a path down my arm, pausing to swirl it around the suddenly sensitive flesh of my inner arm. I shivered again.

  “Who needs sleep when there are a lusty dragon’s urges to sate?”

  He leaned forward, his hair brushing my breast as he licked the path the ice cube had taken, his tongue as hot as his fire. “I have a great many urges, and it takes a lot to sate me. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  I pushed down the blankets and propped myself up to look at my belly. The wound had closed and healed over, but there was still a jagged red welt to mark the injury. Gently Drake pressed the area around it. “It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you’re asking. In fact, it’s kind of numb there. I can barely feel you touching me.”

  “I believe I can change that,” Drake said with a smile that never failed to melt me. He rolled over for a minute, returning to my side with a small crystal bowl filled with ice cubes. I couldn’t help but notice that he was naked, and while not fully aroused, was definitely anticipatory.

  I reached for the bowl, but he pushed it out of reach. “No.”

  “No? Why don’t I get an ice cube?”

  The smile that graced his lips was pure sin. “Oh, you will have many ice cubes, kincsem. As many as you can stand; that I promise. But tonight is for you. Once I have my pleasure of you, then perhaps we will discuss other situations.”

  “You know, normally you getting all dominant and bossy like that would rile me up, but since I know your pleasure and mine are intertwined, I’ll let it pass,” I said, watching with interest as Drake took his time selecting an ice cube from the bowl. He was on his side, his head propped up on his hand. He finally found an ice cube he liked, his gaze lifting to mine as he brought the ice to his lips, his tongue flickering out to taste it.

  The look in his eyes was enough to kindle the always-smoldering burn within me. I licked my lips, my body tingling with the nearness of him. He touched the ice cube to my lips for a moment before popping it in his mouth. Before my lips had lost the chill of the ice, he kissed me, the burn of his mouth on mine sending goose bumps down my arms. My nipples went into overdrive, turning into two wanton knots demanding attention, little streaks of fire radiating from them as his arm brushed them when he leaned over me.

  His tongue invaded my mouth, a cold shock that twined around my tongue, encouraging me to taste him as he was tasting me. I writhed on the bed, my arms going up to pull him down onto me, but he remained rock solid, his head bent over me while the rest of his body was just far enough from me that we weren’t actually touching. I clutched his head instead, wanting to rub myself against him as he continued to kiss me. Inside, the familiar fires burst into being, consuming my entire body until I was one raging inferno of love, desire, and passion.

  The touch of ice against my collarbone took me by surprise. Drake’s mouth continued to ravage mine while the ice cube made little swirls downward, between my breasts. My breasts pleaded with me to put them into his hands, but it was no good. My brain had shut down at the touch of his mouth on mine and gone into the Drake Zone, where all I could do was feel, touch, and love.

  “You taste like sleepy woman,” he said into my mouth, allowing me to get some much-needed air. “My sleepy woman.”

  “Pushy dragon,” I murmured, pulling his head back into place. I sucked his tongue hard before giving it a gentle little bite, squirming when the ice cube wandered down toward my belly.

  “You know, my boobs really would like some attention.” My back arched as if to prove the point, presenting the now-close-to-hurting breasts to him. “They’re hurt because you’re not touching them. They think you don’t love them anymore.”

  “Silly breasts,” he said, touching my lips again with the now-mostly-melted ice cube before putting it in his own mouth. “Your nipples are hard?”

  “Serious understatement. Near implosion is more like it.” I arched again, tugging on his shoulders to pull him down, but the dratted man had other ideas.

  “Would you like to wager I can make them harder?” Drake asked. Before I could answer, his head dipped and he took the aching tip of one breast in his mouth, the combination of the melting ice cube and the heat of his mouth causing every muscle in my body to tighten up. It was an exquisite pleasure, so great it almost hurt, but before I could put the sensation into words, Drake’s now-icy tongue laved my tight nipple, and all words were lost to me.

  “Yes,” he said a moment later, eyeing my rosy nipple with satisfaction. He picked up the sliver of an ice cube and placed it on his tongue. “I believe I win that wager, but if you would like to try it again, to be sure…”

  “Best to be certain,” I gasped as his icy mouth enveloped the tip of my other breast. I swear I saw stars. I clutched at his shoulders, twisting and turning with the sweet torment of his mouth. Every muscle, every sinew was wound tight, leaving me feeling as if I was about to explode in a million pieces. Drake kissed a steaming path down to my belly, making me squirm even more at the combination of fire and ice. I was sure I couldn’t take any more of it, but just as Drake’s tongue swept in a circle around my belly button, a burning cold touched the very center of me.

  “Drake, that’s cold!” I shrieked, unsure whether I liked the sensation of the ice cube on such sensitive flesh.

  “Shall I warm you up?” He didn’t wait for an answer, breathing fire on the part of me that was still tingling with cold. I went into sensory overload as he alternated flicks of his hot tongue, the ice, and little blasts of dragon fire on my quivering parts. The muscles in my legs
were tense as he spread them further, settling down between my thighs to attend to the business at hand. I whimpered a little as his fingers joined in the fun, clutching the blanket in an attempt to keep myself from leaping off the bed.

  I thought I would cry with pleasure when Drake crunched a few ice cubes and tormented my burning flesh. I wanted to scream when he brought me time and time again to the very edge of a climax, only to stop and focus his attention on a nonerogenous zone, tracing intricate designs on my skin with the ice cubes. I figured I was as good as dead when he simultaneously tortured a breast with gentle nibbles and touches of ice, and let his fingers do an icy dance in regions south. But I knew I was in heaven when, with a particularly fiery flash of his emerald eyes, he slid a small piece of ice he’d been using on my belly into my body, the sensation of the cold on parts that were literally on fire almost too much for me. Heaven became nirvana when he lifted my legs onto his shoulders, his penis a burning brand that pushed its way into my chilled depths, the feel of both together pushing me over the edge and into a climax that triggered his. Even as we rode it out together, his body shifted, the skin pressed against me changing from that of a man to yellow-green glittery scales. The hands next to my head arched, stretching into blue claws. As Drake yelled my name, his form shimmered into an elongated version of his human self, the breadth of his chest filling my vision. My brain shut down at the thought that I was making love to a dragon, a real dragon, not just one in human form, and I drifted into a sated, happy cloud of oblivion.

  It was probably only a few minutes later that I came back to my senses. I was lying on top of Drake, supported on one of his thighs. I kissed the ear that was next to my mouth and pushed myself up so I could look down at him. “We have to talk.”

  “Now?” His eyes had a drowsy look to them that read satisfied man. I took a moment of pride in that fact, but there was something I had to know.

  “Yes, it’s called pillow talk.”

  “Why do women always want to talk after lovemaking?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my waist when I tried to slide off him.

  “Because afterwards we feel all warm and fuzzy and intimate, and we like to share our feelings and thoughts, and I’ve got to be heavy. Let me go.”

  “No. The bed is wet.”

  I looked at the bed. “Oh, man, we forgot a condom. And…er…is that all me?”

  “No, it was the ice cube melting.” He laughed at the no-doubt horrified look on my face that faded with the assurance that I wouldn’t need to be visiting my gynecologist in the very near future. “You’re not heavy. If you insist on talking, you have to stay here.”

  I allowed myself to fall back onto his chest, rolling onto my belly, resting my chin on my stacked hands.

  “Deal. I have a couple of things I want to know, but first, you get a big gold star and an A for the semester for the ice cube idea, although the next time it’s my turn.”

  “I look forward to that,” he said, a smile in his eyes. I kissed his eyelids. “What else did you wish to say? If you want to know what I’m thinking, I’m afraid it’s beyond me to describe the rapture our lovemaking generates.”

  “No, I’m not going to ask you that,” I said smugly, drawing a protection ward on his chest. It burst into flames as soon as I gave it a bit of power. I frowned, patted it out, and rested my chin on my hands again. “I want to know what Dmitri meant by saying you were more human than dragon. Why did he call you Drake Fekete, and why on earth did he say I should ask you about your father?”

  Drake’s chest rose and fell in a sigh I felt down to my toes. He was silent for a moment, his hands warm on my behind. “I suppose you should know my history.”

  “That would be nice. And just so you know, this falls under the sharing category, so you get bonus points for doing it.”

  He didn’t respond when I nibbled on his chin, but his fingers tightened on my butt. “Fekete was my father’s surname.”

  “OK. So that was your original name before you took over the sept and got to use Vireo as your name?”

  “No, my name has always been Vireo.” His eyes were a dark green, the irises so narrow, they were mere slits of black. I wondered at that telling reaction—Drake’s eyes only went dragon when he was highly aroused or under the influence of a strong emotion.

  “Sweetie, if you don’t want to tell me this, you don’t have to,” I said, aware that beneath me, he was tense. “I’m not going to push you into telling me anything, Drake. If it’s something that you don’t feel ready to tell me yet, I can wait.”

  His hands slid up my back, wrapping around to hold me close. I felt cherished, protected, safe…and as if he was clinging to me like a lifeline. I snuggled my face into his neck and kissed his pulse point.

  “It’s not that I’m unwilling to share this. I’m just not sure how I can do so without dealing with a lot of history that would probably bore you.”

  “Doubtful. Try me.”

  He sighed again. “Fekete in Hungarian means black.”

  “Black?” I pushed up for a moment to look at him. “Black as in black dragons?”

  “Yes. My father was a black dragon.” He pulled me back down onto his chest. I traced the line of his collarbone as I thought about that.

  “But your mother is human. So how did you end up wyvern of the green dragons if you’re a black dragon?”

  “It’s complicated. Dragons take their lineage from their father’s family, but in special circumstances, the paternal grandmother provides the bloodline.”

  “And you were one of those special circumstances?”

  “Yes. My grandmother was a green dragon. When I was born, she had no male descendants in the green sept. She claimed me even though my father belonged to the black sept.”

  “Hmm.” Drake pulled the blankets over us as I snuggled closer into him, breathing in his usual spicy scent, and the faint residual odor our lovemaking had left. “Wait…I’m confused. Dmitri’s your cousin, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That means you guys share a grandmother. But if your dad was a black dragon, that means his father must have been, as well.”

  “Yes. But my grandmother mated twice—first to my grandfather, who was beheaded by the French in the late fourteenth century, and later to a green dragon.”

  I pinched his waist. “You told me dragons mated for life!”

  “They do under normal circumstances, but my grandmother’s life was anything but normal. She was a reeve.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The closest mortal approximation would be princess.”

  I pushed back on his chest so I could look at him. “Your grandma was a princess? A dragon princess?”

  “I just said that.” His eyes were just barely glowing green. I smiled at the disgruntled look on his face, kissed the tip of his nose, and resumed a snuggling position. “That doesn’t make you a prince or anything, does it?”

  “No. I am a wyvern—there can be no greater honor for me. Reeves are a special class of dragon. Their bloodlines are purest, and they are much sought after by families as mates since their children have exceptionally pure blood.”

  “If Dmitri is an example of what exceptionally pure blood can do, I’d rather have a mutt like you.” I kissed his neck just to prove that point.

  “I am not a mutt!” he said, outrage dripping from his voice, his hands tight on my waist.

  I giggled, and his hands relaxed.

  “You have much to learn about genetics.”

  “I have a lot more to learn about dragons,” I answered, relaxing against him, a feeling of happiness swelling over me. Yeah, we had problems, and yes, my life wasn’t all I wanted it to be, but all in all, things were settling down. I began to hope our future together wasn’t going to be as stressful as the last few days had led me to believe.

  Boy, do I need to be whomped upside the head with a premonition stick.

  15

  “How’s the lady of the manor doing?”

/>   I set down the Field Guide to Imps, Kobolds, Pixies, and Demonic Minions and gave my own little demon a glare. “One interview. One interview with a potential staff member does not a lady of the manor make. Besides, Drake asked me to check out potential domestic staff. I was just doing as he asked.”

  Jim rolled its eyes and sauntered into the small sitting room where I’d curled up to do a little studying. “Don’t tell me you’re not loving the thought of having servants waiting hand and foot on you. You were all Lady Bountiful to that woman.”

  “I was not. I was being polite, yet professional. What are you doing here? I thought you were going with Nora and Paco to Oxford.”

  “Changed my mind. I thought she wanted to go shopping and eat—turns out she just wants to visit a friend. A vegan friend. No sense in wasting my time there. What are you doing?”

  “Just killing time.” I glanced at the clock on the green marble table next to the door. “Drake is off doing things to transfer his business stuff to England. Nora’s visiting her friend. Rene ran home to Paris for the day. I’ve been forbidden by both Drake and Nora to tackle the imps or the person who shot me on my own, so I’m pretty much stuck here with nothing to do but read.”

  “Geesh. You shack up with Drake and turn into a big ole lazy lump of nothing.” Jim shook its head and strolled over to the window, looking out at the street below. “My previous boss would never have just sat around on her duff waiting for life to happen to her.”

  I sat up straight and gave my demon another glare. “Hey! I think I’m entitled to a little downtime now and again. And what do you mean ‘her’? I thought your demon lord was Amaymon?”

  “He was.”

  “OK, you’re being mysterious now, and you know how I hate that. You said you haven’t had any other demon lord.”

  “What do you think I am—a three-time loser? The only way you can be bound to a demon lord is if you’ve been cast out. That’s only been done once, thank you very much.”