Pyromancist Read Online Free PDF Page B

the pricks
that tortured her bare skin, and pulled his head into her lap while
he labored to straighten his legs. When he was stretched out on the
ground, the hair that had escaped the leather string of his
ponytail fell over her naked legs. She rested her hand on his
forehead.
    “It’s all right now,” she said, more to
herself than to him.
    She could see the moistness in his eyes as
she stared down into them, read the pain and the suffering etched
into his features and it burned a hole right into her soul.
    “You’re safe now,” she whispered.
    He studied her face with eyes that seemed out
of focus. He looked from her brow to her nose and her mouth and
then his expression changed. The dim smile that appeared on his
lips was sad. His big hand went to the back of her neck. As he
pulled her down gently, he simultaneously lifted his head for their
lips to meet.
    Clelia had wondered all of her life how his
kiss would feel, but she wasn’t prepared for the reality. A
fleeting thought of the woman he was supposed to be with crossed
her mind, but it didn’t have time to root in her brain. His touch
distracted her too much to think. When Clelia felt the warmth of
his mouth, she also felt the electric shock that sizzled through
her body. He tasted of apple brandy and dark, male lust. She had
been kissed by boys before, but not like this. Not with a tender,
yet demanding movement that forced her lips open and gave him
access to her soul and her secrets. He took her bottom lip between
his teeth and nipped at it softly. His were the natural, effortless
actions of a man who was self-assured and used to being commanding.
He kissed her with the confidence of someone who knew he wouldn’t
be resisted, yet, who wouldn’t force unwanted affection, with the
ease and sure power of a river that flowed gently but steadfastly
to the sea. How effortlessly he swept her along. As his tongue
explored, she could swear she felt him drink the very existence
from her, as if he was thirsty for life, trying to quench the
hunger that made him want to end his.
    He groaned and the vibration sent a shiver
down her spine. He cupped her face with his strong hands, applying
gentle, warm pressure.
    “Don’t leave me, dark-eyed angel, as fragile
as a little bird,” he said into the kiss, “now that you’ve found
me.”
    Clelia knew it was the point of her
surrender. If he but asked, she would walk through fire for him.
She knew all of this while she answered his renewed kiss, felt her
blood heat and boil through her veins as his hands glided to her
shoulders and over her arms to stroke up her sides, framing the
small mounds of her breasts. Just as she gave herself over, felt
herself falling into the dizzying effect of his touch, he
stopped.
    He pulled away abruptly, tilting her chin
with his fingers to look into her face.
    “You don’t know me. I’m a devil. I destroy
whatever I touch. I’ll pull you down to hell with me.” He pushed
her away and sat up, turning his head from her. “Go. Fly away. As
fast as you can, little bird. While you still can.”
    She got onto her knees and inched toward him.
“Josselin–”
    “Go!” He looked back at her with harsh eyes.
“Go,” he whispered.
    Clelia bit her lip. She couldn’t leave him in
the state he was in. She should stay with him, or take him home,
make sure he was all right. She was still contemplating her options
when he shifted, as fast as lighting, his hands pressing on her
shoulders, pushing her back against the rough surface of the
menhir, his lips going to her neck, sucking at her flesh before
trailing his tongue over her skin and sinking his teeth into the
tender muscle of her shoulder. Clelia cried out in ecstasy as much
as in shock.
    “Go,” he said gruffly, pushing away from her
once more, “before the effect of the alcohol wears off.”
    Clelia scurried away from him. His arms fell
loosely to his sides. He didn’t try to stop her when she got to her
feet. Instead, he lay back