Page 81 of Forged in Fire


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I was caught in the storm of his eyes, walled in by flickering flame, unable to say a word. Not sure of anything anymore. Only that I never wanted him to stop touching me.

“And so there’s no misunderstanding whatsoever, you can warn the boy, or not, that if he dares lay a finger or even thinks about putting his lips on this skin,” he rumbled darkly, grazing his thumb along my throat, his ravenous gaze dropping to my neck, “then he won’t even remember his own fucking name when I’m done with him. Am I being clear enough now?”

I nodded dumbly. A hard wall of chest pressed against the softness of mine, pushing me against the brick. A whimper escaped me. No way could I keep my senses in check when Jude had me in his arms.

“Say it, Genevieve.”

Sultry whispered words as his thumb lifted my chin, my mouth closer for his taking. Yes. I wanted very much to be consumed by the flames of Jude. Yes. I wanted him and only him.

“Yes.”

A fierce melding of lips and tongue. He branded me, making damn sure I knew where he stood.

God, the heat of him. My VS hummed through my veins as if inviting the man to set me on fire.

“Wider,” he whispered against my lips, pulling my chin down and pushing my thighs farther apart. The sensation nearly drove me mad. My fingers dug into his broad shoulders, willing him to crush me right through the wall.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes.”

He made some sort of satisfied rumbling sound in response, angling my head for better access, tangling a hand in my hair as he swept his tongue in deeper.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispered, trailing scorching nips and sucking kisses along my jaw to the base of my ear and down my neck. That was quite an admission, considering how long he’d been alive.

I threaded a hand into the hair at his nape as his mouth tasted and melted me into a liquid, pliant creature. Something stirred not just between my legs, because my pussy had started throbbing the second he touched me, but farther up around my heart.

He knocked on a door, slammed shut and bolted tight long ago when the one I loved most in the world had left me. I felt my hand trembling on the knob, wanting to open it. For him.

Jude lifted the hand from my waist and cupped my breast, his thumb brushing soft circles around my nipple, teasing. I moaned into his mouth, pressing closer. The same hand continued moving lower until I felt the distinct downward slide of my zipper.

I muffled his name, breaking the kiss, wondering what the hell he was doing right here on the dance floor.

“Shhh. Easy.” He continued to open my jeans. “No one can see us.”

That’s when I realized while my body was on fucking fire with lust, I also felt his shield of illusion.

“You can make us invisible?”

“They can’t see us,” he reassured simply again. “I need to touch you,” he murmured. “Can’t stand it another second. Open your legs for me, baby.”

So when he shoved my jeans a few inches down my hips, I did as he commanded and spread my legs wider. Right there on the fucking dancefloor. But like he said, no one seemed to see us.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he murmured against my lips, then slid his hand inside the front of my panties.

His middle finger glided along my slit straight to my entrance, where I was drenching my panties.

“Fuck, yes,” he rumbled deep, whispering against my lips, “My girl needs me.”

He stroked that one long, thick finger inside me, then back out, circling my clitoris slow and gentle.

“Jude,” I begged, digging my nails in deep and rocking my hips forward, knowing I was spiraling toward an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

“Need your eyes open, beautiful,” he grated. “Need to see you come.”

I stared into the glittering darkness of his eyes, hardly a speck of gold within. He held me captive with his gaze and his hands and his fierce will.

Music blared and lights flashed and people sweated and danced feet away, but I saw nothing but him. This man, who held far more than my life in his hands. My heart tripped faster as if knowing she was in trouble too.

“Jude,” I cried on a whisper, still rocking against him, needing him to work me harder.

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