Pyromancist (31 page)

When it was time for the exchange of the
rings, Josselin produced a small box with two identical wedding
rings that consisted of three interlinked bands of white, yellow,
and red gold. Like the shoes and the dress, the ring fit perfectly,
and Clelia didn’t have to wonder how Josselin had managed to get
everything just right. He was the only man she knew who could do
something like this so perfectly, the only man she wanted.

After their simple ceremony, Josselin invited
the priest to share a glass of champagne with them, but he
tactfully declined. Josselin walked him to the back of the castle
where he had left his car. When he had gone, Josselin picked Clelia
up and carried her to the front, to where the lights were
burning.

“It may not be all you expect,” he warned
her, “but I didn’t have time to fix it up.”

She nestled against his chest, finding
comfort in the warmth and strength of his arms. Josselin managed to
open the door without putting her down and stepped into a large
reception hall that seemed cold and gray. It was empty of
furniture. Light from candles fitted into holders on the walls
bounced off the stone as Josselin’s footsteps echoed in the hollow
space. He put her down then and kicked the door shut, his eyes
measuring her reaction. Without speaking, he took her hand and led
her upstairs. Knowing what was to follow, Clelia felt her heartbeat
increase in excitement and a little bit of fear.

The staircase spiraled twice before they
exited into a narrow hallway on the first floor, also illuminated
by candles.

Josselin took the lead, glancing back at her
every now and then, his face tense, as if he expected her to change
her mind. Clelia smiled at him encouragingly and let her fingers
run along the rough surface of the wall. The stone was cold beneath
her hand.

They went all the way to the end of the
corridor, but instead of going into the tower part as she had
expected, Josselin paused in front of a big door on the left. He
waited for her to catch up before opening it wide.

Glancing inside, Clelia caught her breath. It
was a huge hall rather than a bedroom, fitted with an antique
looking four-poster bed complete with velvet curtains. Except for
the bed and a chest standing in front of it, there was no other
furniture. Instead, flowers took up almost all of the floor space.
There were exotic looking, fragrant white lilies everywhere.
Bunches of flowers shaped like bells hung from the walls, reaching
all the way from the ceiling to the floor, and in between the
arrangements stood thick, yellow candles, casting a warm glow over
the room. There were two fireplaces, one on each far side of the
hall, and the blazing fires gave the space ample warmth and the
pleasant music that fires made.

“Please,” Josselin said. He motioned for her
to enter.

Clelia stepped over the threshold and walked
slowly to the bed. It was covered with plush cushions and mohair
throws.

“You look so small against the backdrop of
that bed,” Josselin said behind her.

She jumped, as she hadn’t heard him
approach.

“This is the bed where my ancestors
consummated their marriages. Somehow, it seemed appropriate to
bring you here.”

Clelia was glad for those words, because it
meant that Josselin had started embracing what he refused to
acknowledge before–his heritage, his past. Instinctively, Clelia
knew that he would never find peace, fully heal his emotional
wounds, if he couldn’t accept that past.

She turned to look up at him. His eyes
appeared darker in the golden light of the flames. Maybe it was
passion that made him look so intense, but the sudden male
possessiveness with which he regarded her left her with no doubt to
whom she belonged.

“How did you manage all of this?” she said in
awe.

He smiled. “I know a florist who owed me a
favor. Does it please you?”

“Very much,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

“Good. Because I want everything to be
perfect for you. Tonight. And always.”

He bent down to claim her lips and she
couldn’t stop the quiver of expectation mixed with trepidation that
moved through her.

He broke the kiss and cupped her cheek.
“Nervous?”

“A little,” she said softly, feeling a flush
creep up her neck.

“Hungry? Thirsty?”

She was way too nervous to think about food.
“No, thank you.”

“Later then. Do you remember how you felt in
the forest, when I held your sex in my hand?”

She nodded, the heat spreading from her neck
to her cheeks.

“It’ll be like that, but much, much more
intense.”

Clelia bit her lip and closed her eyes,
anticipation alone putting a strain on her breathing.

“I only ask one thing, Cle, that you keep
your eyes open for me. You’ll want to close them, but I need to see
you, to know what you feel.” His smile turned awkward. “I’ve never
been with a virgin. This is a first time for me too, and I don’t
want to hurt you.”

She only nodded again, already feeling her
body preparing itself for his possession.

“Lift your arms,” he said.

His voice sounded strong and sure, and it was
what Clelia needed. For tonight, she needed him to take control, to
be her teacher and her guide. When she obeyed, he went down on one
knee, taking the fabric of her dress in his hands and moving it up
her body, painstakingly slow, until he pulled it over her head. She
stood in front of him only in white lacy underwear and the silk
shoes.

To her embarrassment, Josselin took a step
back to look at her. He threw the dress over the chest at the foot
of the bed and studied her leisurely. It took all her willpower not
to cover herself with her arms, but to stand bravely in front of
his scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he moved to her again, his hands
going to the shoulder straps of her bra, pushing them down. His
lips brushed over one shoulder and then the other while his fingers
expertly released the clip at the back.

Clelia’s breasts peaked as he pulled the
garment away from her body, releasing it to fall by her feet. She
watched him as he watched her. She felt the caresses he dealt with
his eyes as intensely as if he actually touched her, and all he did
was look at her. Their eyes briefly met as he tore his gaze away
from her nakedness, and what she saw in his made her catch her
breath. They smoldered, turning another shade darker as he reached
out to cup her breasts. She gasped at the contact, feeling her
flesh swell in a mysterious way for him. He stroked her hard
nipples with his open palms, causing her muscles to contract
deliciously. She didn’t expect the sharp pinch from his fingers
rolling her nipples, extending them toward him, and it sent an
arrow straight to her sex, causing more juices to pool between her
legs. Releasing her breasts, his hands lowered to her panties, his
fingers slipping inside the elastic to pull them down her legs and
over her feet. His fingers trailed over her legs, belly and breasts
as he straightened.

Josselin scooped her up and placed her in the
middle of the bed. He bent over her, his lips seeking the peaks he
had awakened with his touch. When Clelia felt his tongue on her
flesh, she arched her back, moaning in ecstasy as he massaged her
with his lips and tortured her gently with his teeth. She gasped
again, this time loudly, as he pulled her nipple deep into his
mouth. Her muscles spasmed from the sensation, and she was vaguely
aware of protesting at the intensity. At her protest, Josselin
stopped to blow air over the wet skin, causing her skin to contract
even further. She now moaned at the loss of contact, wanting it and
fearing its intensity simultaneously.

Josselin chuckled. “I could make you come
like this, my little witch. But not tonight.”

He gave her other breast the same treatment,
his fingers flattening over her tummy, the heat of his palm
spreading through her skin to her womb. When he pulled away to
stand at the side of the bed, it felt as if her whole body, inside
and out, went cold without his touch. Clelia pushed herself up on
her elbows, confused at his sudden withdrawal, but when he started
undressing, she leaned back, trying hard not to look embarrassed.
She watched with fascination as he peeled once piece of clothing
after another from his body, until he stood naked in front of her.
Her eyes widened at the size of his cock, wondering how it would
ever fit.

Josselin kneeled over her and slowly pulled
first the one, then the other shoe off, dropping them to the
ground. He took his time to caress the bridge of her feet, moving
to her ankles and then to her calves.

Clelia stared at him in wonder. He was
beautiful. His muscles flexed as he stroked his way up her body. A
light dusting of dark hair coated his chest and continued from
under his navel, spreading down to his balls. She admired the
sculptured lines of his body and the way the V extended from his
hips to his loins. She reached out and traced the line, feeling the
hardness of his flesh. Josselin stopped touching her then. He
pulled her into a sitting position, still kneeling over her. He
took her hands and placed them on his chest, encouraging her to
touch him. Clelia gladly obliged. She ran her palms over his
shoulders, over the indent of his collarbone and over the hard
disks of his nipples. As she moved them over his tummy she felt him
shuddering and when she trailed her fingers down to wrap them
around his rock-hard shaft, she heard his groan over the roar of
the fires. He felt warm. The hardness of his flesh surprised her.
She stroked him gently, marveling in the feel, but he closed his
hand over hers to still it.

“Enough for now,” he said hoarsely, “or I
won’t last.”

He pushed her back gently again, starting to
plant kisses from her neck to her shoulders and her breasts and her
tummy while his hand cupped her sex again. He didn’t move his hand,
just kept it there, and Clelia wiggled against him, desperate for
what was waiting beyond that touch. He spread her legs with his and
moved down, lifting her knees. Clelia stared in bewilderment as he
lowered his head between her legs. She wiggled some more, this time
to escape, feeling embarrassed, but he kept her in position and
dragged his tongue through her wet folds. A loud moan escaped her
lips. She tried to clench her knees together but he spread them a
little wider, making her aware of his intention. She felt his mouth
on her clit, sucking and licking and nibbling with his teeth. She
didn’t heed his request to keep her eyes open now. It would be
impossible. She panted. Sparks flew through her body and
accumulated in a fire in that one tiny spot. It became so intense
that she felt pins and needles all the way to her toes.

“I can’t,” she said, her breath coming in
rasps. She pushed at his shoulders. “I can’t stand it.”

“Shhh, angel,” he said, disregarding her
plea.

He lifted one leg and draped it over his
shoulder, which opened her up for his tongue. She felt its warmth
delving into her, strengthening the depth of her desire. One hand
still held onto her other leg, while his free hand moved to join
his tongue, spreading her gently, and then his lips were back on
her clit while he slipped a finger inside of her.

Clelia’s back lifted off the mattress at the
sudden sensation. She whimpered as he slowly pulled his finger out,
only to push it back in again, all the while nipping at the tip of
her clit. A sudden darkness threatened to wash over her. Clelia
held her breath as she felt it coming, the sensation she had first
felt with Josselin, her release. When it hit her, it hit her hard,
much harder than the first, second, or third time. Her muscles
contracted for several seconds before her body relaxed slightly,
shaking with little tremors of pleasure.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, but
Josselin’s voice gently pulled her from her reverie.

“Open your eyes, Cle.”

She blinked at him, battling to obey.

“You’re so tight,” he said. She heard the
note of concern in his voice but she couldn’t care.

“Josselin.” She sighed.

He kissed her lips, slow at first, then more
urgently. Already the need for him was building again. She returned
his caress with all the love she was capable of, opening her body
to him as she had opened her heart years earlier.

She froze when she felt his cock nudge at the
entrance of her vagina. She was so wet her juices ran down her
thighs. Instinctively she knew her body was ready for him. She
didn’t clench her legs together this time, but wrapped them around
his hips, inviting him to make her his.

She could see the strain on his face from
holding himself in. He shook his head and moved his hands behind
his back to grab hold of her ankles. “No, this position will give
me deeper penetration.” He placed her feet on the mattress. “Not
for your first time. It’ll be too intense.”

His thick cock spread the entrance to her
vagina, moving forward slowly. She cried out as she felt him
stretching and burning her. It was impossible. He was too big.

“Josselin.” Her voice wavered.

He took her face between his hands and kissed
her gently, working himself another inch into her unyielding
flesh.

She called out again and arched her back, but
he kept her face still between his hands, focusing on her eyes.

“Put your hands on my shoulders, angel,” he
said. “Hold onto me.”

She had scarcely done as he had instructed
when she felt him push into her, deep. Her nails dug into his
flesh.

She tried to shake her head but he kept her
still.

“No. I can’t,” she whimpered.

“Shhh, little witch,” he said, kissing her
eyes and her cheeks. “It will hurt at first, but after that I
promise you only pleasure.”

He pushed deeper and stopped, perspiration
shining over his beautiful face, his eyes shining with passion and
love as he held her gaze.