A Dark and Deadly Beauty

The Promise of Fire

Beck was not a man who was easily dumbstruck. Like the water he could manipulate, he was as adaptable as the rivers and as dauntless as the sea. In the past year alone, he had borne witness to a nearly dead bride resurrected from the soil of the earth, watched in horror as the Dark Prince was betrayed and nearly died from a brother’s tainted blade, and marveled at the throngs of cursed folk who now breathed and lived freely because of a miraculous gift.

But none of that seemed to compare to the wonder and disbelief that washed him over head-to-toe at the words Electra had whispered to him in the dark.

He had been with his fair share of women. Flirty women who whispered behind fans and invited with fluttering eyes. Haughty women who spoke down to Beck because of his common blood, only to rub a silent, tempting foot up his calf under a dinner table. Shy women who blushed in his arms as they danced in front of the court, their docile voices low and sweet as they stammered veiled offers of warming his bed.

Never had a woman stood with him alone, wrapped in the private darkness of night, and so brazenly, so provocatively enticed him to come to her. All the thoughts, the private and erotic thoughts he had kept in in his head, refused to act on and resigned them to bloom in his mind at the sight of her…

And now she stood before him,with eyes burning like coal embers, and asked him to take her body on the edge.

His thoughts had stalled for a beat, two beats. Like a spinning wheel clogged with too much wool. He didn’t move as he took her in.

But then the wool in his brain turned to heat, and the tantalizing words on her pretty lips spread like hot honey through his veins. His stomach clenched at visions of her compact, sturdy body arching beneath him. His muscles tightened as he wondered what her sharp, intuitive face looked like in the throes of climax.

The soft band of skin at her waist where she had laid his broad, calloused hand thrummed. His fingers pressed, his palm cupped, and he pulled her to him. He stood a head taller,and felt the hot pant of her breath on his throat. His other hand reached for the nape of her neck, fingers combing her silky hairline. He went to drive his fingers deeper into her mane of perfect, glossy hair but she snaked her hand around his wrist and stilled him.

“Careful,” her throaty voice scalded him, a siren song for the frenzied pulse of his heart. “I’ve got blades hidden in my hair.”

Despite the closeness, despite the primal energy between them… Beck laughed.

“Of course,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and returning them to the safety of her neck. “Of course you have blades in your hair.”

Stars… what kind of creature was she? This beautiful body,fueled by cinders of violence and wrapped in femininity. Eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to make the move, ignite the spark that would set them both aflame.

Beck glanced at her mouth. Round, dark lips hiding a caustic tongue.

Gently, he lowered his face to hers and caught her mouth with his own. The kiss was soft, and tender in all the ways Beck felt Electra deserved. He worried at her bottom lip with his teeth, sucking and tasting the sweet-apple-tartness there, before parting her lips and giving the inside of her mouth a quick, teasing lick.

That sweep of his tongue seemed to have unbound something in Electra, and she smashed her body into his, begging for closeness, for contact, for the feel of his body on hers. Her breath hitched and she brought her hand to his hair, lacing her fingers through the strands and crushing her mouth to him in a bruising, needful motion that left his lips swollen and his groin aching against the fabric of his breeches.

He wanted her, so badly he worried he would come undone with one caress, one whisper of his name on her breath. She was greedily running her hands over her thick shoulders, scraping nails along the tender skin under her shirt. He knew at that moment that if he carried her into the woods right now, she would open herself to him and let him ravish her until they were both gasping and spent.

But he also knew that if they did that, if they rutted in the woods like animals- he would have wasted his chance to tease and explore all the delicate parts of Electra he had always fantasized about. So he pulled away from the kiss, and ran his hands down the length of her torso, her trembling body so eager she almost vibrated like a lute string.

“If I had known you were so desperate to mount my flesh, I would have plied you with a candied apple long ago,” he smirked down at her.

Irritation flashed in her eyes, resentful that playful banter had replaced his sensual kissing. He let his fingertips play over the sensitive flesh of her throat, dancing like the snowflakes that would soon fall to earth in graceful pirouettes.

“Do you always stop to chat in the middle of screwing someone?” Her tone was playful but her eyes were colored with anger. “Kind of a mood-dampener, Mr. Reed.”

With determination she stroked the front of his chest, trailing her hand down, down, down toward that part of him that was already half-throbbing at the promise of her touch. He trapped her finger in the net of his own and brought her hand to rest on the small of her own back,trapping her in the cage of his embrace. He knew that she could shatter him in a moment, twist out of his grip and break his bones if she chose. But she was letting herself be bound by him,freely giving over her control.

With his free hand, he ran his knuckles over her collarbone,down her chest, over the curve of her breasts. He felt her tighten as he brushed over the tender peaks beneath her shirt, watched her breathe and swallow and relish the whisper of pressure over that sensitive spot. He traced her ribs, her sides,her hip.

All the while, she was silent, expectant and breathless.

Finally, after he had only just begun to drink his fill of her curves, he raised a steady hand to her head and smoothed the satin hair at her temple before bringing his palm to rest at the high curve of her cheekbone.

The gesture was sweet, and earnest, and it took her by surprise.

He ran his thumb over her cheek and leaned in so close that the scent of roses on her skin enveloped him.

“Lady Electra, slayer of cougars and protector of children… you deserve more than a fast tumble in a frozen wood. When I bed you… and trust me, I will…it will be in a house, beside a fire, so I can watch your lovely face as I take you again and again.”

The look on her face would be burned in his brain. The smoldering eyes wide in shock. The kiss-plump lips parted, ready to unleash her wicked tongue. Her chest shuddered as she took a deep, steady breath.

“f**k. You and your chivalry, Beckett Reed. Only you would have a willing woman offering herself to you, only to turn her advances down to the promise of better sex.”

A laugh ripped from his throat. “Name the time and the place, and I’ll be happy to fulfill that promise. And I’ll make sure your wait is well worth it.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to let me have my fun with you in the woods, you can at least take me back to the party and ask me to dance.” She smiled, a goading half smile that offered both her understanding and forgiveness.

“Now that I can gladly do.”

They walked back to the party with their fingers laced, like bashful teenagers holding hands away from the prying eyes of adults. The lights and music and laughter from the party soothed the raw nerves in them both, the frazzled parts of them that had been left hungry and wanting by the edge of the forest. Light from the Yule bonfires lit their faces as they stepped back into the world of the court, blushes painted on both of their cheeks.

Beck opened his mouth to ask her to dance, a c**k-sure grin showing off his ivory teeth.

But before he could speak, the night turned into a nightmare.

The table bearing goblets of wine and casks of mead, innocuous and ordinary moments before, flared into a searing fireball.

The tranquil night fractured like a mirror struck by a fist.

Fairies screamed. Men tried to shield their women. Friends called for one another as they tried to run beyond the reach of the fire.

It’s long, scorching tendrils of flame lashed out, burning everyone and everything in its path.

Beck didn’t have to look at Electra to know she was already at work, her eyes roving the crowd searching for unfamiliar faces. She reached up and pulled from her hair a dagger, beautiful and lethal. She dropped Beck’s fingers.

“s**t,” he said. But she was already running toward the flame, toward the danger. The slim dagger, her only weapon, gleaming in her hand.