Furious Fire: Grimm's Circle, Book 8 Read online

  “Keep talking,” he said, his voice still that same, low rumble. “I’m listening.”

  Swallowing, I reached for him, telling myself I was going to push him away. We should have some distance, and discuss this…

  But I didn’t push him away. I found my hands curling into the tight, toned flesh stretching over muscle and bone. His flesh was unbelievably hot, but it felt so good. There was a chill inside me that I didn’t know would ever fade.

  “What were you saying, Kalypso?” he asked, his mouth seeking out that sensitive spot right behind my ear.

  And when had we moved? We’d been kneeling in front of the couch. Hadn’t we? Now we were on it, half sprawled across the wide, plush cushions, his weight settled between my thighs.

  Focus, Kalypso. You need to focus.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t had seriously hot men sliding their hands over me while I had a mission, right? I had. Granted, those missions had involved me making them dead, so this should be a lot easier. I just needed him to listen to me.

  But my mouth just went dry and my hands clutched as the ridged muscles of his sides as he skimmed his lips along my jawline before he settled his upper body on his elbows, eyes burning into mine. “You’re not her,” he said.

  He reached out and I gasped at the contact as he traced his finger along my upper lip. He paused and then went to pull back. I caught his wrist and held him steady. “You feel like a furnace,” I said.

  Finn shifted against me, his lashes sweeping down to shield his eyes. “You feel like a dream.” He shuddered and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my chest. I wanted to melt. It had nothing to do with the heat radiating from him.

  As he slowly lifted his head, eyes darkening, I dragged my gaze away. Had to think—had to focus. Just for a minute. Too much was happening, way too fast—

  Something red rolled under the golden skin stretched across his shoulder and absently, I reached out, touched it. It looked like…wow. I couldn’t describe it. If somebody flattened out flame and shoved it behind a person’s skin, assuming it didn’t kill them…it might almost look like that.

  “What is this?” I traced the dancing red with the tips my fingers. It was almost like a living, breathing tattoo, one that seemed to twine around him, from the neck down.

  He sighed and shifted, moving to his back and taking me with him so that I sprawled across him, legs falling to either side of his hips. Pleasure, heat, need jolted through me and I had to stop the urge to rock against him like a cat seeking a stroke.

  I was—although I didn’t just want one.

  Swallowing, I sat up and focused on the wave of red that danced under his skin.

  “The fire.”

  I looked up at him when he spoke.

  “What fire?” But even as I asked, I knew. “The demon from the hotel. She…it was burned. All over.”

  “It’s called an orin,” he said flatly. “They possess humans—the human has to be willing or vulnerable in some way. You clearly weren’t. There are different kinds, some are stronger, some are weaker. That one was one of the stronger ones—higher level, capable of rational thought, planning. I reckon those are the ones behind what was going on here.”

  “Just what was going on?”

  His hands smoothed up my thighs to grip my hips, his touch like a brand.

  “Let’s take it one thing at a time, darlin’ girl,” he murmured, his eyes closed.

  I stiffened at the familiar endearment, falling from his lips.

  A knot lodged in my throat.

  His lashes opened.

  Tension gathered in the air and I felt like any noise, any sound, might make me shatter.

  As he slowly sat up, I held myself, frozen.

  He tangled a hand in my hair, tugging me down so that I met him. He moved slow, like he wanted me to have time to turn away, but how could I possibly do that? My heart raced, pounding in my chest, like I’d spent all the decades without him doing nothing but chasing after him. I guess, in a way, I had.

  “My darlin’ girl,” he muttered, his lips against mine. “That’s one thing that hasn’t changed. You’ve changed. In case you haven’t noticed, so have I. But I still want you. You just have to decide if you want me.”

  Then he eased back, that intent, hungry expression melting away. “So the fire…anyway, that’s in me.” He brushed a hand down his chest, like he hadn’t just shattered me. “When my emotions get high, this happens. A warning. A reminder. One in the same. Right now, emotions are pretty high.”

  You’re telling me—

  I cut the thought off. I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t felt that weird press on my mind from him, but I didn’t want to strip myself so vulnerable around him. All the memories, all that misery, everything rushed into me and it was just too much. I started to shake under the weight of it.

  He dragged a hand up, curved it over my neck. “You keep getting this weird, panicked look in your eyes. I’m almost tempted to ask what’s wrong, but seeing as you sort of died in the past twenty-four hours…”

  “Yeah.” I sank down onto his chest, curled my hands into fists. That had been unsettling enough. But that wasn’t exactly why I was panicking. He could think that. I could let him. Give myself time to settle…I drew in a breath, forcing my mind to calm, to empty. The river, I thought. I’d think about the river, standing there on the banks of the Mississippi…

  But the peace I yearned for eluded me.

  My mind spun back, to that dark stone room, where a demon taunted the man before me.

  An angel’s a better toy…

  He would have gone with him. Nausea twisted in me and I jerked up, twisting out of his arms. He looked confused but I ignored him as I clambered away from the couch.

  “You son of a bitch!” I snarled, almost tripping over the coffee table and in frustration, I kicked it. I stopped then, staring in stunned amazement as it went flying across the room.

  “What the…”

  I stumbled back as he came closer. He caught my arms in his hands and I twisted away.

  He let me, a heavy sigh escaping him.

  “You’re going to need to be careful for a while,” he said gently. “You’re stronger. You’re faster.”

  “Am I?” I studied him for a moment, then lunged.

  He saw me coming, but I guess he hadn’t realized why until I was already on top of him. With some detached amusement, I realized we’d flown halfway across the room, crashing into the wall nearly ten feet away. Stronger. Faster. Yeah. I’d say so. Balling my fist up, I struck him in the jaw and then surged up, putting ten feet between us before I let myself look at him.

  He was on his feet, eying me warily.

  “Kalypso…”

  “Shut up!” I shouted. “You don’t get to do that. You bastard. You son of a bitch!”

  “Okay.” He lifted his hands, his voice low and soothing. “Tell me what I did. I won’t do it again. Just…”

  “Tell you what you did?”

  Until the nearby glass pitcher crashed into the wall behind him, I didn’t even know I’d thrown it. He sidestepped the wreck of it, still watching me with wary eyes.

  “Please, just tell me—”

  “You were going to let him kill you!” I shouted. And then the sobs tore out of me. Horrified, I clapped a hand over my mouth and turned away. The pain hit me, like a double-handed fist to the gut and I went to my knees, doubling over as though that might lessen this gut-wrenching, all-consuming pain.

  Arms closed around me.

  “Shhh….” Finn pressed a kiss to my brow. “Shhh…”

  He was rocking me. Harsh sobs tore out of me, but if I’d had the breath, the strength, I might have hit him.

  “Don’t…” I tried to stop crying and couldn’t. I still wanted to hit him. I settled on shoving my elbow into his gut and then curl
ing into him, clutching him tighter, closer. “Don’t tell me…to hush.”

  I sobbed, half blubbered the words out on to him. His skin seemed to get hotter, so hot now it was a wonder my tears didn’t sizzle on contact, a wonder I didn’t hurt just from touching him, but I just wanted—needed to be closer. I twisted around under him until I could wrap my legs around his hips, my arms clamping around his shoulders.

  “You don’t get to do that.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words were pressed against my brow and still he rocked me, one hand smoothing my hair back. “I’m sorry…”

  Sorry—

  My heart felt like it had been ripped out in those moments.

  Sorry…

  Squeezing my eyes closed against the memory that battered me, I just clung to him, so tight nothing that could possibly tear him away. Not in that moment.

  The sobs faded to sniffles, then to sighs. When that happened, Finn stretched out a hand and caught the edge of the curtain. They’d knocked the window fixtures down when she’d all but thrown him into the wall. The security deposit he’d put down on this place was pretty much gone. Not that he cared. He used the fabric to wipe her tears away, his gut twisting when she averted her face.

  “Kalypso,” he whispered.

  “How could you do that?” Her voice was harsh, each word low and hard.

  He caught a fistful of her hair, buried his face against the dark, thick mass. The scent of her teased him. She’d spent hours in long, heavy sleep and she still needed more. Her body needed more fuel, more rest, more time to acclimate.

  Maybe he did too.

  He hadn’t been prepared for this.

  And he had no idea what to say to her, because if he had to do it again, he’d do the same thing.

  Her hand closed around his wrist, tightening.

  I’m sorry, he mouthed, the words silent. He was, sorry for the pain he’d brought her, sorry for everything that had happened, the words he’d said when he hadn’t realized just what was going on and the distance he’d forced between them because he couldn’t handle how he’d felt drawn to her.

  “I lost you once,” he finally said, the words coming in slow, rough spates. “You can’t know what it did to me. I can’t explain. I’ll never be able to tell you. It almost broke me. I couldn’t go through that again.”

  She shuddered in his arms. “Finn—”

  Lifting his head, he covered her lips with his finger. “I wasn’t going to just blithely walk to my death. He’s a demon and demons lie. I’m under no obligation to honor anything I say to a demon—once we were safely away from you, yes, I’d have done my best to kill him. But even if I didn’t, Sina was there and you would have been safe. I had to know you were safe—I couldn’t watch you die again.”

  Then he closed his eyes, the image of that very thing playing out in front of him, her blood, so hot and dark—pumping out of her. “But I had to see it anyway.”

  There was a taut, heavy silence and he moved to ease her to the ground as the shaking inside him started. He’d had nightmares for years. They’d chased him. Taunted him—they’d start again now and it didn’t matter that she was right here. Didn’t matter that she was stronger now, faster, that she could—

  “Finn!”

  Her voice came to him over the roar of blood in his ears and he spun around, staring at her, the breath sawing in and out of his lungs even though he didn’t need the oxygen.

  Her hands came up. “I’m here.” She swiped at the drying tear tracks on her face and then she reached for him. “I’m here. You’re here. Maybe…”

  She eased in and he caught her trembling body, held it against his own. “Maybe that’s what we need to think about for now. There’s enough hell in our heads from everything else…isn’t there?”

  Finn closed his eyes, a replay of the other torment spiraling through him.

  He’d made few friends in this life. His volatile temper, his inability to trust after he’d seen Ira go over the edge, all of it shut him down more and more over the years. But Will…

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t able to shut those thoughts out in time to keep that lance of pain from ripping through him. As much as the bastard had annoyed and frustrated and pissed him off, he’d been the closest thing to a friend he’d had…ever since he’d lost the two true friends he’d had. First Sawyer, to a demon. Then Becky, to death.

  “Is he…” she paused and then continued, “Will you all be able to find him? Get him back?”

  “No.” He closed his eyes as he said it. It wasn’t knowledge that voiced it. But fear. In the very pit of his soul, he feared Will was lost to them. “I don’t think we will.”

  Her arms came around him, holding him tight. “I’m sorry.”

  For a moment, they stood like that.

  He kept every muscle in his body locked, because he was brutally, almost painfully aware of the softness of her, the scent of her hair, the feel of the skin bared by the T-shirt she slept in. And there was so, so much skin. Her arms, the long, long length of her legs. Her mouth brushed over his bare chest as she turned her face to him, breathed in, like she was taking in the scent of him.

  It felt like all the blood, superheated and charged, seemed to arrow down to one specific point in his body. As his cock started to pulse and throb, he thought it was a miracle that she hadn’t already felt it pulsing against her belly.

  “There’s too much.” Her words were a soft caress against his skin, sending a jolt of sensation racing through him.

  He was so caught up in that, it took him a minute to realize what she’d said.

  “Kalypso?” He threaded a hand through her hair, tried to understand what she meant. If she meant what he thought…

  “Too much,” she said again and then she eased her hands between them.

  It felt like he was cutting off an arm, letting her pull away like that.

  But he took the pain and let go.

  She didn’t move away, though, and that just made it worse, because now he could still feel her—she was a cooling presence against the abrading, overheated pulse of his flesh and he wanted to lose himself in that. As she laid a hand on his chest, he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to go to his knees and beg her. If she needed time, then—

  “Too much. I know you probably have stuff you have to tell me and I don’t know shit about what’s going on. There are things inside me that don’t make sense—I don’t even have to breathe now,” she said, completely unaware of the torment inside him. And she trailed her hand down, her gaze on her hand, the way she was touching him. “I should worry about that, and I should ask questions.”

  Now, she looked up.

  The intensity of that gaze had the fire inside Finn exploding. It was so hot he thought it would scorch him. Worried it would burn her, he tried to nudge her hand away, but she moved in, pressed herself against him, a needy moan escaping her.

  “I don’t care about questions…answers…anything. I just want you to take me to bed. Finn, can we just worry about everything else later?”

  For a span of maybe fifteen seconds, he stood there, staring at me like I spoke another language.

  His hands gripped my hips and as I sucked in a breath, the air burned inside me—it didn’t hurt. It felt like I was breathing in him and I loved the way it burned through me. I wanted to feel him burn through me.

  “Finn…”

  His mouth came down on mine with a hard, focused intensity.

  Then, without me even realizing we’d moved, the bed was under me. He came down between my thighs and I groaned, bringing my knees up as he settled his hips between mine.

  That… I whimpered at the hot, heavy length pressing against me.

  I slid a hand between us, intent on just one thing—getting him naked.

  He caught my hand, slammed it down onto the bed. “Not yet,”
he muttered as he began to kiss a line of kisses down my chin, my throat. When his mouth, so hot and hungry, closed over my nipple, I thought I might die. With teeth, tongue and that unbelievable heat, he had me twisting and rocking against him in desperation in a matter of minutes. Then he shifted his attention to the other breast as he smoothed his free hand down my torso.

  When he pushed two fingers inside me, I shuddered and lifted up against him.

  That…

  Right there.

  I needed that. Rocking against his hand, I caught his head, pulling him to me. “Kiss me,” I demanded, the demand more of a husky plea than anything else. His lips returned to mine, his teeth scraping against the lower one, nipping it and sucking it lightly before his tongue started to tease the upper one.

  The kiss was a seduction, his hands drove me to madness and I wanted, more than anything, to have him inside me.

  “Stop teasing me,” I rasped into his mouth, catching his lower lip and biting him.

  He laughed roughly. “I’m not teasing. Once I put my cock in you, I’m going to last minutes at best. I want to make you cry out, need to hear you scream.”

  As though to punctuate those words, he twisted two fingers inside my pussy and deliberately began to screw them in and out. He rubbed his thumb over my clit while he caught one nipple between his teeth and started to bite and tug until I felt every touch—the scrape of his teeth jolted down to echo between my legs. When he teased my clit, the muscles of my sex clenched and I could feel my nipples throbbing. It was one unending, teasing, taunting caress. Too much. Way too much.

  “I want you to make me scream.” I said that against his mouth and when he kissed me again, I bit his tongue and then pushed him back onto his back. He went, his eyes hooded as he stared up at me.

  I caught the waistband of the loose cotton trousers he’d worn and dragged them down.

  Then, still holding his gaze, I wrapped my hand around his cock and started to drag my hand up, then down.