Breathing Fire

“Who was it?” He uttered the question as though it pained him.

“I will tell you. When you’re calmer.”

He literally roared. Like a bear. I could feel the druids that burst into the door behind me.

“Leave us,” he roared at them, and they beat a hasty retreat.

I had an idea. Better than any I’d had lately. Though I was willing to acknowledge that that wasn’t saying much. “Could you heal me, Dom?” I asked him quietly. It was something I could do myself, if in a more painful manner, but I knew this would shift his attention, perhaps even enough to calm him down.

“Come here,” he commanded.

I came around his desk and gave him my hands. His touch was light, but I felt a shock go through my body, and my skin burned where he touched me. I felt the tingly, pleasant sensation of a druid’s healing move through my body. Their magic was earthy and raw, and I had always loved the feel of it. It was like cool water running through me, so different from my own magic. I shivered visibly from head to toe. Only Dom’s touch had ever given me this addictive feeling. I tried not to think about how much I’d missed it.

His powerful healing spell plowed right through the barrier I’d put on my own regeneration, which was a troubling thought, really. No druid should be able to slice through a dragon-kin’s spell like butter. Arch’s were different, though, which I had almost forgotten. And Dom in particular had always been unbelievably strong. I’d felt it even when he’d been just a teenager whom I’d had occasional, and very limited, contact with.

He let go of me quickly when he finished. I was standing so close to him, almost between his legs. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Gods, I wanted him. It was like a switch that had been in the OFF position for seven long years of total abstinence. All it took was proximity to this man and suddenly it was ON, and all of my self-control was gone. I was known for my self-control. I was practically famous for it. But how much could I possibly have if I couldn’t go five minutes in this man’s presence without giving in to my hunger? The answer was obvious.

I was on him, almost against my will, a second later. I was still fighting with myself even as my body took action. I was straddling him in his chair, pulling his head back with both hands, and pressing my mouth against his roughly. He ripped off my wig, and grabbed a handful of my hair, hard. He pulled my head back slowly, looking into my eyes. His own were positively electrifying. “What. Are. You. Doing?” he growled.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I ruined it a second later when I whispered, “Please, Dom,” and moved against him.

“I hate you,” he growled at me, right before he caved.

“I know, baby. I think there’s a club you can join for that now,” I replied, trying to hide the catch in my voice.

He reached up into my micro-mini latex skirt and tore off my thong with one vicious motion. It took a few beats longer for me to release his hard length. I gripped him tightly, moaning. He was already impossibly hard and ready.

He shoved my hand away quickly, grabbing my hips and impaling me onto his length in one savage thrust. It was, perhaps, a punishment of sorts. But whatever he intended, it was exactly what my body craved. I screamed, coming instantly. He didn’t miss a heartbeat, setting a punishing pace that had me quickly building toward the pinnacle again. I put my hands on his broad, hard-muscled shoulders, stroking, and he stood, still impaling me, until I was shoved roughly against the heavy wooden blinds that covered the huge windows of his office. Only his erection held me upright as he wrenched my hands above my head, gripping my wrists tightly, then started thrusting again, hard and fast and angry. I wrapped my legs around his hips, arching into his thrusts.

I felt the blinds give behind me as something broke above our heads. Dom didn’t miss a beat. Turning, he cleared the surface of his desk in one quick swipe, the sound of breaking things surrounding us as it all hit the floor. He lowered me to the surface, and continued to thrust.

I felt another orgasm coming, and tried to slow it down, wanting to wait for him this time. He gripped my chin hard, never slowing. “Look at me,” he said. I’d been avoiding the intimacy of eye contact before that, not wanting to be reminded of all that we’d lost, but I did as he said. His hand moved from my chin to my neck, squeezing, exerting just the right amount of pressure.

His beautiful, other-worldly eyes were angry as he commanded,“Come.”

I did almost instantly. His voice was a trigger. “Domhnall,” I cried hoarsely.

“No one calls me that,” he said without stopping.

We came together with the desperation of seven hard years of separation.

We tore up his office. Papers flew, priceless sculptures were knocked over without a second thought. We split his beautiful black desk right down the middle near the finish. I knew it was in spite of himself that his hard eyes turned tender at the end. My eyes had been there the whole time, I knew. He fingered my now magenta hair, bringing a lock to his mouth. We cried each others names when we came. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I turned my face away to hide it.

I ran my hands over his shortly cropped black hair. “Oh, Dom, your hair,” I whispered to him, a break in my voice. He had been lying on top of me for a while. He stood when I spoke, wrenching out of my embrace. He started righting his clothes. I lay as I was, letting him eye me up in my sprawled, undignified position. “You told Mav that my hair changed color during sex. I never figured you to kiss and tell.” He went completely still, and I was perfectly aware of what I’d revealed.