pdf - From the Ashes.PDF (2 page)

Max rolled to his feet and helped Cilia to hers. He dusted the grass and dirt from his hands and offered one to Fiach.

“I hope you can come back soon.” The boy’s eyes sparkled. “Or maybe Mom will let me go see your place in the mountains.” He turned a pitiful expression on his mother. “I bet it’s really pretty up there, and Phoenix would have lots of room to run.”

Stella sighed. “Maybe. I still have some concerns about your safety that need to be laid to rest first.”

Max grumbled, and Stella shot him a look that would have cowed a man twice his age. “Maxwell, I said we’d see.” She softened her tone. “A night in the mountains might do your mutt some good.” The boy balked at the use of his given name then gathered her in a quick hug.

“You’re the best! Thanks Mom.” He turned to Cilia, gave her a shy kiss on one cheek, and then tossed a wave at Fiach before bounding into the house.

Max’s absence marked the first time Cilia and Stella had been alone since the humans had been rescued from Faerie.

“Thanks for inviting us over Stella. I’ve really missed you guys a lot.”

Stella nodded. “I know, but I have to be certain that Max is safe around you. He’s my baby, and I can’t let you risk his life again.” Then she turned to Fiach. “And I have to be more certain about the company you keep.”

Fiach stayed silent, knowing he deserved any harsh words or accusations she cared to level at him.

“You’re right Stella. There will always be an element of danger if you continue your friendship with us, but I like to think the benefits will outweigh the risks.” Cilia pulled her into a hug, and Stella startled, having never felt Cilia’s embrace before. “Only you can decide what’s best for your family. We will respect any decision you make.”

Fiach saw the hesitant tightening of Stella’s arms as she pulled closer to Cilia. Their friendship would survive this. He was certain of it. When they stepped apart, the human’s cheeks glistened with tears, but he was certain they were of the happy variety. Cilia looked up at him, and her eyes twinkled with tears unshed for the friend that he had almost cost her.

*

Cilia willed the moisture from her eyes and gave Stella a watery smile. “Thanks again for having us. If you need anything, you have our number.”

Fiach draped an arm across her shoulders and led her around the side of the house.

She inhaled the scent of leather and clove that always clung to his skin. The scent was comforting and reminded her of home.

“I think tonight went rather well, all things considered,” he commented.

“It will take some time, but I think she’ll forgive me.” She gave him a pointed glare.

“As long as no one barters her or her son to a demon again.”

Fiach chuckled, a deep bass reverberation that echoed against the cheek she rested on his shoulder. “Will I never live that down?”

“Not likely. It tends to stick in someone’s memory when they’re trapped in an alien world for weeks on end by a creature they thought didn’t exist.” She shivered. “I can only imagine what they thought of Arvel. Seeing her must have been a horror in itself.” The emaciated face and black sunken eyes had been bad enough. After Cilia burned away most of the demons skin while protecting Fiach, Arvel’s largely fleshless skull was a truly horrific sight.

Fiach shrugged. “If I said that I would undo it if I could,” he bent to brush his lips across hers, “it would be a lie. I would do it again, and much worse, if it meant the difference of having you in my life or not.” He smiled against her closed lips. “It’s a good thing you’re here to reform me from my evil ways.”

Cilia rolled her eyes. “I worry that it’s the other way around. That you’re dragging me down, instead of me shoring you up.”

He paused. “Why do you say that?”

“Because, since I met you, all I seem to think about is getting you in bed.”

He growled. “I can think of a few other places I’d like to get you.” His thumb pressed into her wrist. Whether it was to count the heartbeats or enjoy the telltale quickening of her pulse, she wasn’t certain.

Cilia cleared her throat and glanced around. They were in Stella’s driveway and within range of a set of prying youthful eyes and straining ears. “Fiach, we shouldn’t discuss this here.” She jerked her chin over her shoulder, indicating the upstairs bedroom window where the soft sounds of a television floated down to them. She was willing to bet Max was on the other side of the curtains that framed the window and fluttered periodically even without a breeze to stir them.

“Then let’s get out of here.” He released her wrist and rounded the driver’s side to slide into place behind the wheel.

Cilia took her seat and clicked the belt in place. “I thought gentlemen opened car doors for ladies.”

“I’m no gentleman,” he confessed. “But, I would gladly do it from now on if it pleases my lady.”

“Charmer,” she accused.

His wide smile flashed in the fading light. “Let’s get home Firebird. I have something I want to show you.”

Cilia snorted. “I think I’ve already seen it.”

“Perhaps.” He reached behind her seat and dropped a box in her lap. She attempted to lift the lid, and he slapped her hand away from the temptation. “Not yet; if you open it now, we won’t make it out of the driveway.”

With the lid firmly in place, she shook the box searching for clues. There was a dull thumping sound. The box itself was heavy, and whatever was inside only made a muffled thud when rattled against the thin paper walls.

“No peeking,” he scolded.

“I’m not peeking. I’ll have you know human children do this every year at Christmas and on birthdays. It’s allowable to shake the package for clues even if you can’t open it.”

“I’ve heard you can use hairspray to see through wrapping paper if it’s thin enough.”

“Really?” she asked. It did make sense. You could spray the paper until it got damp enough to see through, catch a glimpse of the gift beneath, and once dried the package would look exactly as it had before.

“I’ve never tried it, so I wouldn’t swear by it. I thought the ritual exchange of gifts was an interesting one, so I looked into it a little.”

“You’ve never gotten a present before?”

“Oh I’ve gotten plenty of
gifts
. Didn’t you hear me tell the humans about my first pony?” His dark laughter did nothing to assuage her. “But I have never received one freely given. Or, one that wouldn’t attempt to kill or maim me if I ever let my guard down around it.”

Cilia rested a hand on his taunt forearm. “I’m sorry Fiach. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s all right. If my mother hadn’t prepared me, then my father would have killed me to spite her.”

“So you think it’s better that your own mother tried to kill you before your father got the chance to?” she asked with incredulity.

Fiach choked on a laugh. “I have never thought of it like that.” He squeezed the hand resting on his arm before settling it back on the steering wheel. “You have an interesting perspective on my childhood. I was too busy trying to survive it to notice.”

Cilia slipped a finger between the lid of the box and the sides, careful to pry the side closest to the door and farthest away from Fiach’s keen eyes.

“Cilia,” he groaned, voice thick with hunger. “I warned you not to do that until we got home.”

The dappled sprawl of houses near Stella and Max’s new home had faded away, which left only dense foliage and towering trees on either side of the road. The city was invisible from here, too many miles away to mar the natural beauty. Only the strip of asphalt signaled civilization.

Fiach’s accelerated flight back to the cabin slowed to the speed limit as his eyes searched the darkness.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“Teaching you a lesson,” he replied absently.

Chills prickled her skin, her core flooded with desire and a rush of excitement.

Fiach’s head jerked to stare at the juncture of her thighs, as though he could see her arousal through the thick denim of her jeans. He inhaled deeply.

“You always smell so sweet when you’re wet.” His eyes darkened. “I’ll never tire of your scent.”

Her cheeks burned in the night although, with his eyesight, he could easily see her embarrassment. She cleared her throat and talked past the lump that was rapidly forming there. “It’s easy to say that now. Just wait until we’ve been together a few hundred years.

Then we’ll see who is committed.”

Fiach smiled, and she knew he was thinking of the
Noce
, the ceremony fae partners underwent to become soul bound. Fiach had only mentioned the rite once, and even then he hadn’t brought up the subject. Kathel, an emissary to his mother, had. Kathel believed it was only a matter of time before Fiach claimed her as his
D’Ame
. She wished she felt the same calm assurance as the great black cat. After a few months of being together, she could no longer imagine her life without Fiach in it.

The car turned onto a small dirt feeder road. They drove a few hundred yards, and it ended abruptly in the middle of nothing. Tall trees formed walls on three sides of the car.

The only way to leave was the way they had come. He turned the car off and they sat for a second in silence, enveloped by the night.

He twisted in his seat and thumped the box. “Open it.”

Nervous hands fumbled the lid. Inside was something she was certain that she had never seen before: a thick leather strap with handles at both ends and padding in the middle. “Thank you?” She lifted it from the box and stretched it curiously. “What is it?”

“A new toy.”

She twisted the strap and tried to imagine a use for it, but nothing came to mind. “I give up; what does it do?”

“Why don’t I show you?” He stepped from the car and popped the truck.

Cilia climbed out and circled to the rear in time to see him pull a thick blanket from the trunk. Her stomach clinched when she realized he had planned for this outcome all along. He knew she would never make it home without sneaking a peek at her gift.

His mouth curved in a self-satisfied smile as he spread the blanket over the ground.

In a flash, he willed away his clothing and stood nude before her. His shoulder length black hair was woven with ruby quills; his eyes blackened with hunger and shimmered with intensity. He dropped the glamour from his wings, knowing how she loved to see them. They stretched and flexed, fanning behind him before settling against his back once more. Black tattooed swirls dipped over his chest and stomach, curling along his side and over his back. The flushed head of his erection strained upright, almost brushing his navel.

He held out a hand for her to join him. She discarded her clothes by the car and tossed them on the hood. She took a few tentative steps, until she was close enough to take Fiach’s hand and allow him to reel her in, to press her against his chest. The hard-muscled skin beneath her cheek acted as an aphrodisiac, all on its own. His scent was intoxicating; the musky clove fragrance made her head swim.

“Are you ready to try out your present?”

She pouted. “I don’t know what it is, so I’m not sure if I want to try it out or not.”

Fiach tilted her chin up as his lips lowered to claim hers; his tongue smoothed over her full bottom lip, and his teeth nipped it as they parted. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” He dropped to his knees and patted the blanket.

She knelt beside him and waited for further instruction. He shifted her hips and pushed her in front of him; he angled her shoulders so they aligned with his. Then he pushed her down until she was on all fours and wondering what a black leather strap had to do with this particular position. It was too wide to be a whip and too soft to be anything else she could imagine. “You could have just told me how you wanted me, you know.”

“And ruin the surprise? I think you like not knowing.”

The flutters in her stomach agreed with him.

She felt the smooth slide of leather across her lower abdomen. The padded cushion rested across her pubic bone. Fiach wrapped his fingers in the handles of the strap and pulled them taunt, lifting her backwards and into his straining erection. “Oh. I um… I see,” she stuttered. The straps enabled him to impale her with much more force.

“Do you? Are you sure you don’t need another hint?” he teased as he ground his swollen cock against the crevice of her bottom.

Cilia whimpered and pushed back onto him. The air thickened around them. Their Phoenixes were rising and wanting to mate, to join in their purest, most elemental form.

Fiach’s labored breathing made her own lungs burn.

“You’ll have to guide me in.” The admission was torn from between tightly clenched teeth. He slacked the strap and gave Cilia enough room to reach between her legs angle his crest to her entrance. The head of his erection parted her folds and plunged home.

She gasped; the feeling of fullness was always a welcomed shock. He tightened the strap and pulled until her bottom was flush with his skin; the invasion was so deep that she struggled against him even as he yanked her closer. The sweet burn of penetration eased, and her muscles clinched along his length, which drew a soft curse from behind her.

“You’re so tight.”

She couldn’t speak, only feel. The strap loosened as her body pulled away from his.

Her body savored the slow slide of his flesh inside of hers and the sudden snap of leather as he reeled her back. He slid in deep. He tugged and released; his balls slapped against her bottom, which made her fingers itch to stroke them.

She dropped to her elbows and balanced her weight on one arm as she reached between her legs. With her free hand, she reached through to cup the heavy weight in her hand. Fiach groaned and lost his rhythm as she tugged gently on the loose pouch of skin.

When he moved again, his thrusts were deeper. The sounds of flesh slapping flesh filled the otherwise silent night.

“Pull harder.” His voice was a thick, guttural caress.

She palmed his testicles—the warm flesh overflowing her fingers—and pulled harder as he propelled himself into her depths. His pace grew frantic; he buried his cock, over and over, until she was straining for more, trying to go over.