Free The Burn by K J Morgan Page A

couldn't stop. He looked up at her as she sat astride him, the pained whisper of her voice drawing out in his mind. His vision of her blurred as he held her, the feel of her in his arms nothing less than incredible. Every touch, every kiss, felt too intense to endure. It was as if every cell in his body had acquired a lustrous sensitivity, as if his skin burned.
    Her hand closed on his cock, guiding him through her wet folds, pushing him deep into the tight warmth of her body. He clenched his teeth as he squeezed into her in slow increments, stretching the skin.
    She made a noise that bordered on pain, but her expression glowed with ecstasy, her lips parting, her cheeks flushed.
    Miranda was a surreal picture above him, strands of black beads draped over her delicate shoulders and the buttery swell of her breasts, rolling over her tight nipples as she moved. Her crown glittered in the red glow, her face so well painted with its exotic turns and colors that she appeared dreamlike. She tilted her head up, spilling the red waves of her hair down the bare skin of her back.
    Seth slid his hands over her hips and thrust into her, hearing her sharp intake of breath. She moved against him, the feel of her slick and tight.
    He stroked her in wonder, the image and feel of her catching fire in the crimson light through the windows. The drumming in the neighboring camp quickened, a tribal heartbeat playing to the heat and smell of sex.
    Her breathing turned desperate, her hips rolling under his hands, the slide of his cock hitting its mark with each deep push. She rocked forward, riding him harder, her fingers digging into his arms.
    She pressed so close, held on so tight, her pleasure mixing with need and vulnerability. The intensity of it was dizzying, heart-wrenching.
    "Miranda," he called her name, calling her back to him.
    She looked down, the green of her eyes bright with lust, lost in the deep sensation of his thrusts. She kissed him and the coppery taste of metal was thick on her breath. He pulled back, alarmed, only to watch a soft metallic sheen spread across her skin.
    The drug. It was the drug.
    He shook his head, his hold on her easing.
    She sensed the change, fear darkening her expression, as if she somehow knew. "Don't let me go," she implored under her breath. "Keep me here. Don't let me go. You can't."
    Her body cooled under his hands. Faint symbols appeared on her skin, markings that seemed to whisper in the darkness.
    A hallucination. Just a hallucination.
    "Don't let me go," she repeated, desperate. "Seth."
    He shook his head, the plea echoing in his heart.
    * * *
    Miranda felt him go still, concern surfacing in the golden depths his eyes. He could see it, she realized. He could see her weakening, losing her grip.
    "Don't let me go," she whispered again. "If you let me go, I don't know if I'll ever find my way back."
    "Miranda," he replied gently, reaching up to stroke his hand over her cheek. "Jesus, what has he convinced you will happen? You're here, sweetheart. I've got you. You're here."
    "Don't let me go."
    "I won't. I won't let go."
    He shifted, lowering her down onto the couch and cradling her beneath him. His shoulders spread out above her, his thick biceps sheltering her on either side. He thrust deep into her again, filling her with the hard push of his erection.
    She arched her back against him, feeling a euphoric sensation flood between her legs, warming her entire body.
    "You're safe with me," he murmured. "You're here. You're alive. I can touch you. You can tell me whatever you want, ask anything from me. I want to make you feel good."
    He had already done that. He had made her feel alive. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling the strength of his body embracing hers. He moved languidly inside her, stroking deep as he kissed her mouth, her neck, her hair.
    Comfort turned to hunger. His expression darkened, his thrusts growing quick and rough, his breathing ragged. He reached underneath her, his hands