Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Cyra allowed Reif to assist her in exiting the carriage and into the frigid wind gusting off Azurvend’s wild coast. The furthest east she’d ever ventured was to House Celestine, nestled in Aeramere’s beautiful Moonfall Peaks, but House Azurvend was more south, and even in the frosty winter, it was glorious.
The expansive sandstone house stood like a beacon set against the crashing turquoise waves and the crescent-shaped stretch of empty beach.
Spiral towers glinted in the wash of silver moonlight, highlighting their dizzying heights and dozens of staircases that seemed to vanish into the night sky.
Stained glass windows reminiscent of sea glass swept into framed arches and balconies, and the gentle roar of the sea wrapped around Cyra like a siren’s lullaby.
Reif tucked her into his side, shielding her from the gusting ocean-kissed breeze, and led her toward the front entrance of House Azurvend.
“Your home is beautiful.” Cyra absently curled her hand around his arm for support as she walked, and a flutter of delight hummed through her when his muscles flexed beneath her touch.
“I’m glad you think so.”
Two decadently carved doors swung open as they approached, and Reif guided her inside. He gestured toward the glittering stairwell the color of sun-kissed sea foam, and her heels clicked quietly against the swirling stone beneath her feet.
“It’s not so different from House Emberspire.
Countless bedrooms that are rarely used.
An excessive amount of wall decor. Hidden entrances and halls that lead to nowhere in particular.
” He glanced down at her and winked as they started their ascent up the polished stairs, his voice dropping an octave.
“However, I can assure you, my bed is exceptionally comfortable. In fact, you might not want to leave.”
Cyra scoffed, but couldn’t help the slight smile that pulled at her lips in spite of his bold arrogance. “Oh, I doubt that, my lord. My bed is unmatched in terms of comfort.”
“Mm.” Reif rubbed his lips together in consideration. “Perhaps I should be the judge of that.”
Again, Cyra’s stomach flipped.
It did not take much for her imagination to fill her mind with tempting images of Reif Marintide sprawled, magnificent and naked, in her bed.
It mattered not if she had no idea what his body looked like beneath those layers of silk and wool, she would bet every last shred of her fire magic that he was all hard muscle, sensual lines, and powerful strength.
Just thinking about it caused her mouth to water and she licked her lips, her heart nearly sputtering when he opened the door to what she assumed was his private bedchamber.
“Welcome,” he drawled, stepping back to let her walk inside first, “to my humble abode.”
The scent of him—warm citrus and salty driftwood—consumed her.
Deep navy walls were accented with touches of soft gray and crisp white.
All the furnishings were a rich, dark wood, and amber light spilled from a simple chandelier that shimmered through the room like golden waves.
It was like being underwater, in the darkest part of the ocean.
In the middle of the room, raised upon a slight dais, stood the most inviting bed Cyra had ever seen.
Layers of black silk and downy comforters were topped with a mountain of pillows.
The bedchamber was soothing yet masculine, and so quintessentially Reif, it caused her lungs to seize.
If this is what it meant to drown in someone, then perhaps she was ready to jump off the cliff.
“See?” He spread his arms wide then climbed the dais and settled on the edge of the plush bed. “Exceptionally comfortable.”
“I suppose it does look rather pleasant.” Cyra tangled her hands behind her back to disguise her fidgeting.
She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, uncertain of what she should do next.
She shrugged out of his coat. Her breath quickened and her pulse hammered when she quietly asked, “Shall I undress?”
Reif’s smile was slow and intentional. He hooked a finger in the air, motioning her to come closer. “No need, my lady. I prefer to do it myself.”
“Of course. What a silly question.” Cyra attempted to swallow around the knot of nerves clogging the back of her throat, but her mouth had gone dry, like it’d been stuffed full of parchment.
She gathered the hem of her gown and focused on remembering to breathe as she slowly climbed the steps, joining him on the dais. “What do I need to do?”
“Just stand there and continue to look lovely.” Reif stood and lifted one hand, letting his knuckles gently graze the side of her cheek.
The warmth of his fingers skimmed her throat, then lower to where they slid beneath the thin beaded straps of her gown.
“Tell me about your magic, my lady. What’s it like having the wrath of a flame at your fingertips? ”
“Fascinating, really. And quite underrated if I’m being honest.” She canted her head, peering up at him, admiring the underside of his chiseled jawline.
“Granted, I’ve never had the need to use my magic for any kind of nefarious deeds, however, it is rather splendid to know I could set fire to the world if I was so inclined. ”
“A fiery little creature, aren’t you?” Reif chuckled and his low, rumbling laughter caused her nipples to harden.
Cyra glanced down between them. Or perhaps that was the cool air assaulting her flesh, because at some point during their discussion of her magic, he’d managed to remove the upper portion of her gown.
She stood before him, the heavily beaded fabric drooping around her waist, while the fullness of her breasts were free for his exploration.
He stepped closer, so the rosy peaks of her nipples lightly scraped against the finely sewn satin of his shirt.
She sucked in a deep, torturous breath as he trailed one finger across the rounded swells then lower between the valley of her breasts to her navel.
Her stomach tightened, clenching in expectation.
Even more curious was the unbearable heat blooming between the center of her thighs.
She shifted, pressing her lips together, aching in unspoken places.
When he flicked his thumbs back and forth across the sensitive buds, she arched into him.
“So lovely,” he repeated. “Perhaps you’d be willing to show me some of your devastating magic?”
“I’ll show you mine.” She opened her palm and a flame of crimson and brilliant orange ignited in the center, its heat warming the air between them. “If you show me yours.”
Reif grabbed her hand and a rush of icy water flooded their joined palms. It slid down her wrist, dripping onto the hardwood.
He interlocked their fingers as the hiss of steam echoed in her ears, then carefully twisted her arm back behind her, anchoring her to him.
She shrugged a little, rubbing against him, allowing the heaviness of her gown to slide the rest of the way down her body until it resembled a pile of rubies on the floor.
His nearness overwhelmed her. It would be so easy to raise onto her tip toes and see if his lips tasted as good as they looked.
No. She silently scolded herself. No kissing.
Reif’s brow quirked and the corner of his mouth lifted into a damning smirk. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before, my lady?”
“Never, my lord. That being said, I am quite fond of books.” Cyra reached for the pearl buttons of his shirt. “And now, I do believe it’s my turn to tease and your turn to talk.”
Another ripple of laughter reverberated through him, and this time her thighs clenched and her legs softened.
“Tell me about your magic.” She used her words as a ploy to distract from the trembling of her fingers. With each button undone, another sliver of his delicious golden skin was revealed to her. “Do you enjoy owning the power that is capable of ruining mine?”
“On the contrary, my lady.” Reif tugged off his shirt, and her nails gently traced the hardened wall of muscle.
She was right, he was gorgeous. Broad shoulders.
Bulging veins. Thick arms. Trim waist. Cut abdomen.
He dropped to his knees and looked up at her, his face aligned perfectly with the slickness at her center.
Holding her with his stormy turquoise gaze, he cupped the back of her calf, lifted her leg, then planted the heel of her shoe against his chest. “It is my belief that fire and water are entirely well-suited for one another.”
With careful precision, he removed her bejeweled shoe and set it aside. Then repeated the motion with her other leg. Except this time he let the back of her knee rest upon his shoulder.
“But we do not mesh.” Cyra’s brows pulled together. “Fire and water are complete opposites.”
Reif turned his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and a shiver of delight raced along her spine. His breath was warm. His lips were hot. “And opposites attract.”
“Well I don’t know about th—” Her argument died and all rational thought emptied from her mind because Lord Reif Marintide was on his knees before her and his mouth was fused to her most intimate area.
“Reif, I…I’m not sure you…” She swallowed hard, grasping at the strands of his messy dark blond hair for purchase.
Never had a male touched her there with his hands, let alone his mouth.
She’d heard stories, of course, but they were nothing compared to the way he so effortlessly tasted and teased her.
His tongue slid between her slit, delving deeper as he devoured her.
Her eyes fluttered closed as his hands gripped her bottom, holding her in place.
She couldn’t speak.
She couldn’t think.
And she was certain she was making some kind of unintelligible noise.