Born of Fire

When she looked up at him, her gaze sparkling, his breath caught in his throat.

Candlelight flickered in the golden depths of her eyes, catching the raw spark of vitality that glowed from deep within her soul. The thin shirt she wore was drawn taut over her hardened nipples and her unbound breasts shook with her excitement. Gods, she was beautiful.

Her smile slowly faded. Her breathing sped up and she licked her lips.

Syn tensed, his control slipping as he watched her tongue moisten the very thing he wanted desperately to taste.

Was it an invitation? The last time he’d kissed her, she’d been so afraid that he hesitated to try again.

But as he watched her, a fierce hunger gripped him and he knew he’d die if he walked away unsatisfied.

Shahara opened her mouth slightly. She wanted to beg for a kiss, but the words were lodged in her throat. And just when she was sure he’d never comply, he dipped his head down and took possession of her lips.

This time there was no panic. Instead, he teased her lips lightly with his own while his right hand came up to cup the back of her head. Shahara moaned at the sensation. How she wanted this man.

For the first time since Gaelin, she wanted to know what pleasure could be had between a man and a woman.

Even though the thought almost overwhelmed her with fear, she knew that Syn was the only one she could trust. He would never hurt her. And she knew she would never feel this way again about any other man.

He alone made her feel safe.

Protected.

I’ll never have this chance again.

Pulling back, she stared deep into those dark eyes that hid an unfathomable pain. “Teach me, Syn,” she whispered against his lips. “Show me that it doesn’t have to hurt.”

His eyes mirrored shock. “What?”

“I want you to make love to me.”





CHAPTER 13


Syn stared in total stupor at her request. Did she mean it? One look into her eyes and he saw the sincerity.

No . . . I’m dreaming. Or high.

Brain damaged.

Something’s happening cause I definitely didn’t hear what I think I did.

There was no way Shahara Dagan would ask a piece of shit like him to make love to her. That would only happen in a drunken hallucinatory fog.

You are drunk.

Yeah, but not that drunk.

“I trust you to take away my fear,” she said softly, fingering a piece of hair by his ear. “Show me, Syn. Show me what it’s like to be unafraid.”

That was enough to actually sober him. His body sang in response. And before he could argue or have his conscience rear its ugly head, he stood and swept her up in his arms. He claimed her lips once more.

Taking her to the bedroom in record time, he placed her gently on the bed. As he looked down at her, he was awed by her beauty.

He’d never been with a woman like her before. All of his previous lovers had known many men before him. But Shahara was still technically a virgin.

She’d been taken, but never loved.

His mouth went dry at the thought. Who was he to be with her like this?

“Syn?” Shahara asked hesitantly as she watched him. Sadness darkened his eyes and he looked as if he, the man who feared nothing, was scared of her. She reached out and took his hand, then pulled him to sit next to her. “Are you all right?”

“I need a drink.”

She laughed at his ragged whisper. “I need you.”

He looked up at her words an instant before he reclaimed her lips with a hungry kiss that told her how much he needed her as well.

Shahara trembled at his touch and the knowledge that this man who needed no one at all needed her. Her body was alight with a thousand flickering sensations. She touched his loose hair, his face, and marveled at the raw masculine strength of him.

Of everything he’d been through . . .

And still he was whole and here. A survivor like her.

Not a rat, but a wolf who fought to protect his den and those he cared for.

Tonight, she wanted to care for him.

Hating the barrier of his shirt, she pulled the tail of it out of his pants and ran her hands up under it and over the corded muscles of his chest, careful not to hurt his wrapped ribs. Chills spread over his flesh and she felt his nipples harden beneath her questing palms.

He trailed kisses down the column of her throat and in that instant she thought she’d pass out from the sheer pleasure of it. He laid her back against the soft mattress. Her senses whirling, she delighted in his touch.

Until he shifted and she felt his bulge against her thigh as he trapped her against the bed.

Syn felt her stiffen beneath him. Pulling back, he saw panic flickering in her eyes. It was his weight, he realized. She must feel trapped beneath him like she’d no doubt been by her attacker.

Moving to her side, he tried to imagine how hard it must have been for a woman with her strength and self-esteem to find herself weak and ineffectual against someone so much larger. He knew from his own experience how awful it was. To this day, he hated to feel pinned, and if anyone held him down by his throat . . .