Page 166 of Heimlock

“Now what?”

Now you give me a minute.

“Fine. Bossy.”

He ignores me. At first, nothing happens. The air gradually heats, turning hot — phenomenally hot. Trinte’s body vibrates and a shimmer of magyck coats the outside of his body.

Without warning, he slams his wings forward, catapulting himself away from the mountain. When we’re about fifty feet from the stone, he opens his maw and lets loose the hottest, brightest fire I’ve ever seen or felt in my life. Molten magma drips past his lips; everything it drops on turns to glass.

The stone mountain top slowly turns into a swirl of red and orange. Trinte continues to pour his Fyre onto it. It’s a magnificent thing to witness, seeing a Dragon use its most cherished power.

Gradually, the stone crystalizes. Trinte swallows the remaining amounts of Fyre, waiting for the mountain to cool, leaving a crystalized peak. It’s stunning.

He’s panting by the time we’re done. Any preference on where we go next?

“Nope.”

He scans the ground, finding an appealing spot and releasing a plume of fire that blankets the snow, sizzling it until there’s nothing but warm stone. When he shifts back, the fire stays, supported by my power.

Excitement builds in my bones at the way he watches me; like a starved man looking at his first meal in a week. “Can I collect my prize?”

I tilt my head, a small thrill shivering down my spine. “Do you think you’ve earned it?”

In a deceivingly conversational tone, he says, “Well, I did just kill my father. And you promised to reward me if I didn’t die.”

Taking a step back, I tease him, “Fortuna doesn’t demand a tithe in gratitude for survival?”

Instead of taking another step forward, Trinte stripes. “Fortuna will understand that this is my version of gratitude. I’ll gladly pay the tithes on the altar of your body.”

Fingers trembling, I unzip the hoodie and pull off my shirt, shivering as the cold air bites at my bare skin. I flick my wrist. A circle of fire immediately blazes, surrounding us and warming ‌the air. It feels heavenly.

By the time he’s shucking off his pants, Trinte’s cock is rock hard. He presses a large palm against it, groaning while staring at me, eyes half-lidded. When I unsnap my bra, his focus homes in on my perked nipples. The fire can’t keep out all the cold; goosebumps spread across my body.

He licks his lips, turning the blazing blue eye back to my face. “What would you like to do with me?”

“Pull out your cock and stroke it,” I command, thrilling at the power he’s giving me. Trinte obeys, pulling out the mouth-watering length. As he fists himself, I approach slowly. Each step closer increases the speed of his breath. My blood pounds with need for him. He’s alive, and I’m eager to begin our life together.

“Tell me.” I brush a hand over his stomach. It contracts and he shivers. “Have you ever played with fire during sex?”

“Very little,” he says cautiously. Like he’s afraid I’m going to ask for a list of the women I want to murder. Which isn’t out of the question yet. I open my mouth, letting fire blaze on my tongue. His eyes flare as he grins with excitement. “Definitely not that.”

I motion to the ground. “Lay down.”

The man practically falls over in his eagerness, splaying himself on the ground like my own personal sexual buffet. His cock juts toward the sky, a silent invitation to sink down on it. But first, some different kinds of fun.

Grabbing our clothes, I make tiny piles on either side of his hips to protect my knees. He doesn’t even complain about the cold ground.

Fire crackling around us, I kneel and ignite my hand with orange flames. He hisses through his teeth when I wrap my fingers around his thick length.

“Goddesses fucking damn me, that’s incredible,” he rasps out, fingers digging into the stones. I make slow, methodical movements that have his hips jerking upward, a silent plea for more.

When his eyes squeeze shut, I take him into my mouth full of flames. A bead of pre-cum sizzles on the tip of my tongue. Instantly, he’s moaning and blabbering nonsense. I lick the length, devouring the tip, keeping the flames hot.

A hand comes to the back of my head, pressing me further down until he’s pushing past the barrier of my throat. I relax my muscles, trying to take what I can, but he’s so thick … I choke on it. He groans and does it again. His free hand strokes down my spine, then spanks my ass cheek. I hum, vibrating his cock, which makes him moan louder. Need rolls straight to my core, eliciting another moan.

Popping up for air, I find him watching me with a lopsided, boyish grin on his handsome face. “Can you do that with your pussy?”

Throwing my head back, I laugh. “I’m a Fire Sprite.”