Chapter 15
Shawna
Ishiver at the whisper-like caress of Jak’s claws against my skin. The sheepskin rug is incredibly soft beneath me and warmed by the fire cracking in the hearth. I breathe in the scent of fragrant spices that fill the cabin—nutmeg, allspice, cloves, ginger, cinnamon... so much cinnamon—and they fill me with a different kind of warmth beyond the firelight bathing my skin that quickens the heat gathering in my belly to even greater heights. That latter heat is all because of Jak, however.
His pale eyes pierce me as he lowers himself gracefully into a crouch until he is kneeling right in front of me. His wings spread slightly to accommodate them in this position, and perhaps to give him more balance, and I am surprised by how much heat he radiates. Despite the frozen nature of the frost and snow that he appears to influence, he is wonderfully warm. Even his tail is incredibly warm as it brushes my knee and slips up my leg in a long, slow glide.
Jak leans forward as his tail traces its intimate path, and his lips part softly with his desire. Urgency and need burn like cold fire in his eyes that give him both a chilling and insanely hot intensity as he grips me at the hip and thigh and tugs me toward him. I gasp a little—I really can’t help the reflexive sound—and shiver as his claw trails up the inside of my leg, heading directly toward the edge of my arousal-soaked panties.
It skims their edge, and his eyes slit at me as he studies my reaction. My lips are suddenly very dry, and I lick them nervously. I’m not a virgin or anything, but it is not like potential lovers are beating down my door. And the way he is looking at me—that is most definitely new. It is like I am a double chocolate cupcake being set before him after a long fast.
A shiver rushes through me, leaving me slightly lightheaded as he lowers his opposite hand to the ground to brace himself as he slides one knee forward and then the other. His tail curls against my inner thigh and it’s only then that I realize that it has crept to that sensitive spot while he teases my clit through my soaked panties with that same claw he had zeroed in with. My breath leaves me in a small explosive pant, my eyes widening as he leans in closer, his lips inches from mine.
His pale eyes slide thoughtfully over my face, and his nostrils twitch as if scenting the air. A slow, lazy smile curls his mouth.
“You smell delicious,” he moans, and I can’t seem to prevent my bare toes from curling against the sheepskin. “I wondered about this scent. So this is why.”
I squirm slightly in place and heat floods into my face as I feel the long, blunt side of his claw drag in a steady pressure along the seam of my sex and against my clit. The heat of it is like a brand, and I quiver despite the confusion racing through my mind. But more than that, it is the temptation to give in and indulge in what he is offering.
But then—why not? How often have I allowed myself to enjoy pleasures for no other reason than the fact that I truly want and need to feel them. This would certainly qualify. I can feel the need buzzing restlessly beneath my skin as it simultaneously sings in my veins. This seems like too good an opportunity to pass up, especially when such experiences are fleeting before they finally end. But this is not even the foremost question on my mind. Truthfully, I am distracted by the heat radiating offhim in waves that belie his own primal nature and the coldness that seems to be rooted so deeply within him. And yet he is shockingly warm—so much so that I want to cling to him like a second skin and soak it up.
“How are you so warm?” I sigh.
I must have said something unexpected, however, because he freezes and his eyes widen briefly like a deer caught in headlights before he slowly draws his claw away from between my legs. I immediately miss the pressure and mentally castigate myself for opening my big mouth over something so asinine. Who the fuck cares if he is scorching with heat? It seems more important now that his expression has shifted from lust to curiosity.
No, no, no. I want the hunger back. I want to be devoured like a holiday treat, hot from the oven. I don’t want to be interesting. I’ve always been the “interesting” or “unusual” chubby redhead girl that guys were more buddy-buddy with than the source of more carnal fascination. For once I was enjoying being seen as the latter, and I had to ruin it for myself.
“You think I am warm?” he murmurs. “How curious.” He sweeps his widened wings, rolling heat-soaked air towards me that feels insanely cozy even as it soaks into me, making me ache more with the promise of pleasure. It is both like basking in the heat of a cozy fire while sipping cocoa on a cold winter’s day and the incredible pleasure of being entwined with a lover between flannel sheets while the crisp air teases me. And it roves over my skin in pure seduction. “What do you feel now?”
I somehow manage to remove my tongue from the roof of my mouth and blink at him. “Is that a trick question?”
His lips tighten faintly, and I feel a tiny tightening of dread in my belly as he gives a small shake of his head. It seems that he is putting an end to the “merriment.”
“No,” he replies.
Fun is over. Damn, his switch gets flicked equally fast to the off position too, it seems. I sigh a little and shift my position as I rock back against my heels so that I am sitting with my bottom tucked more between my feet. This turn in mood is disappointing. It also seems a bit counterproductive to his main motivation for all of this. Isn’t he supposed to want me “happy?”
“It feels really warm. Not just a regular warm, but the best kinds of warm all rolled into one. Decadent and sweet and comforting all at once.” I pause, my nose scrunching. “I feel like I am describing this badly.”
The corner of his mouth twitches briefly, but it is quickly concealed by his hand as he rubs across his mouth thoughtfully. His wings fold once more behind him as he settles back into a crouched position.
“No, this is not unfamiliar to me. But you should not be feeling it—not from me,” he murmurs, and his brows dip a little in confusion. “This warmth is not something for you to experience.”
“I don’t get it,” I reply flatly, not the least bit enthused about the idea of that kind of pleasure being a one-way thing. That doesn’t sound fair.
The corner of his mouth hitches with a bit of his returning humor. “I do not mean it as an insult. It is just that a frost demon’s nature is cold by design. What you are describing is what the ‘merriment’ we draw from prey feels like. There is no reason that you should be feeling it. Even I feel the movement of icy air from my wings.”
I shrug at his observation. I am admittedly still annoyed by his insinuation that this whole thing is just for him. I mean, I logically know his feast thing is something he needs to survive, but what would persuade any reasonable person to remain in one place to be feasted upon unless they weren’t also enjoying it?“Maybe I am getting an early hit of whatever your prey feels to keep them docile?” I suggest.
His smile grows, showing a hint of his sharp teeth. “Do you imagine it would feel like this? Usually, we set an ice fog over their minds at the height of their merriment so that the intense biting cold of our energies mingling with theirs does not make them uncomfortable. It is better that they drift in a numb fog of bliss. They aren’t even aware of anything that they are feeling.”
I blink at him and gape momentarily before quickly snapping my mouth shut and rolling my shoulders dismissively. “Well, maybe you are just really happy then.”
“Happy,” he murmurs, his eyes brightening with curiosity. “That is something worth exploring.”
I freeze at the look in his eyes. If I thought he appeared predatory and hungry before, I was mistaken. The raw hunger of his gaze returns times ten and is growing more acute by the moment as he peers at me. Holding my gaze with his, he rocks forward onto his knees once more, his tail curling sinuously in the air behind him. His wings spread a bit, and once more I am hit with a wave of sweet warmth. My nipples tighten to hard peaks in response as the smell and incredible quality of the heat becomes richer and more intoxicating. My head rolls back and I tremble as his hand slides into my hair to support the back of my head.
