Soul Scorched

“Because I want you stripped.”

 

 

Darcy looked into his cobalt gaze as he dropped to his knees, and then slowly lowered her onto the fur rug. He kicked his pants off and unbuttoned hers before he looked at the fireplace.

 

“Let me,” Darcy said and snapped her fingers.

 

A large flame burst around the logs set there, shedding a red-orange glow around the room. Warrick’s smile grew. He jerked her zipper down, and then tugged the jeans over her hips and down her legs.

 

Darcy didn’t realize until the air touched her that he’d removed her panties with her jeans. He laughed as he leaned over her and rolled them so that she was on top of him. She straddled him and felt her bra give as he unhooked it.

 

She pulled it off as she sat up and tossed it away. Then she touched his face. He’d come into her life so suddenly, saving her from beings she hadn’t known existed. He’d risked his life for her. Something no one else had ever done.

 

The only time she felt as if she had someone who understood her was when he was near. She trusted him. Completely, wholly. Implicitly.

 

“What?” he asked softly.

 

She leaned over him so that their lips were almost touching. “I owe you so much.”

 

“Nay,” he whispered as he slid his hands in her hair.

 

He brought her head down for a kiss. It was slow, erotic, and seductive. It teased her senses, tantalized her soul.

 

Darcy let go of all the weight of the happenings over the last few days. She ran her hands over his rock hard chest, his thick shoulders.

 

Time was lost as their hands caressed and stroked, learning and studying the other. The fire within them burned hotter, brighter.

 

Stronger.

 

Moans and soft sighs filled the cottage. Their breaths mixed, their limbs tangled as they rolled around the rug while desire swelled.

 

Need, thick and strong, tightened within her when the head of his arousal pressed against her. Then he thrust and slid inside her.

 

Darcy marveled at the sinew beneath her palm. She loved the weight of him as he settled over her. He was passion and pleasure in one tasty package.

 

Warrick ground his teeth as her tight sheath gripped him. He pumped his hips, their bodies sliding over each other.

 

He couldn’t get enough of her. He couldn’t kiss her enough, touch her enough. And he feared what that meant.

 

Looking down at her, Warrick knew. She was his mate. It didn’t matter whether he wanted one or not. She was his. All he had to do was take her.

 

Her auburn curls were spread around her, her swollen lips parted as soft cries fell from them. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Fern green eyes opened and met his gaze. Her legs tightened an instant before she climaxed. At the feel of her clamping down on him, Warrick felt his own orgasm take him.

 

They rocked against the other, each lost in the pleasure—and each other.

 

Warrick held her close as he rolled to his side. The aftermath of their lovemaking sheltered them from the harsh realities of the outside world.

 

*

 

“Well?” Con asked the Warriors and Druids as he walked into the sitting room. “What do you think of Darcy?”

 

“We just met her,” Lucan said.

 

Fallon nodded. “It’s hard to say.”

 

“No’ for me,” Phelan replied.

 

Aisley looked at him askance. “Are you serious? After what we went through? I was drough, Phelan.”

 

“And you knew what you were doing,” he said.

 

Larena blew out a breath. “I believe Darcy does as well. She’s wary, as she should be.”

 

“Especially after enduring the Dark,” Cara pointed out.

 

Con had expected the Druids would side with Darcy. “She didna endure anything other than being stuck in her shop while War and Thorn fought off the Dark.”

 

“I wouldn’t say she came out of that unaffected,” Larena said, a hard edge to her voice. “Darcy saw things she didn’t know were even around.”

 

Lucan scratched his chin as he thought. “Aye, but she knew she was helping a Dragon King. Before Ulrik she didna know the Kings were here either.”

 

“So we’ve been told,” Phelan said.

 

Aisley rolled her eyes. “I love you, Phelan, but you can be so thick sometimes.”

 

“You know as well as I do that Corann knows more than he tells anyone,” Phelan argued.

 

Just what Con had wanted someone to mention. “So you think Corann knows of us?”

 

Phelan shrugged. “I’m saying it’s a possibility. If he does, he wouldna share that with the others.”

 

“So he wouldna have told Darcy,” Fallon said.

 

“This can be solved easily,” Cara said. “We need Reaghan.”

 

Con crossed his arms over his chest. The Druid who could tell if someone was lying with a touch. Just what they needed. Con knew that Warrick wasn’t about to let him near Darcy again, but Con had to know the truth.

 

All of them did—no matter how hard it was.

 

“What if she’s innocent?” Lucan asked.

 

Con shrugged. “She’s no’. She unbound Ulrik’s magic.”

 

“Some of it,” Aisley corrected.