Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [119]
Instead of apologizing, he knocked me down onto the bed, falling heavily with me. My head was reeling dizzily as his weight pinned me to the mattress and his mouth came down on mine once again.
My eyes suddenly stung, and my nose tickled. Lopez drew his head back and coughed a little.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered as he realized what was irritating his senses.
His expression dark with impatience, he grabbed the thin string that was around my neck, yanked it so hard the knot snapped and broke, and tossed the gris-gris pouch across the room. Then he kissed me with rough insistence.
He had never touched me like this before. Out of his head. Not tempering his strength. Not worrying about whether he hurt me. Leaving bruises and teeth marks that would be visible on my skin in the morning.
I clutched his naked shoulders and arched against him as he punished me with his passion and tried to make me regret pushing him this far. As my legs embraced his hips, he pulled up my skirt, tugging on the material until a seam gave way and tore. Then his hands were on my bare thighs, and I didn’t care that this dress was in tatters by now.
His back was smooth and warm, flexing with supple muscles. His silky black hair tickled my neck and shoulders as he shoved aside the straps of my dress and feasted on my skin. His belt buckle pressed sharply into my belly, hurting me. I made a sound of protest and reached for it. He grabbed both my arms and pinned them on either side of my head, then kissed me again.
I thought I would faint from lack of air—and I didn’t care. I clutched him tighter between my thighs, yearning for everything he could give me. Burning for him. Heat flowed over me and consumed me.
His grip on my wrists was hard enough to hurt. The rum that lingered on his tongue was making me feel drunk. His weight on my chest and his hot kisses made it impossible to breathe. When he lifted his head and looked down at me, I gasped for air and tore my hand out of his grip so that I could reach for his belt buckle. The metal burned my fingers, making me gasp and jerk my hand away. Then he kissed me again, incinerating all other sensation.
Wrestling against the mindless grip of my legs, he rose to his knees, breathing hard, his chest pumping in and out, his lips wet and swollen from our kisses. When I tried to sit up, he shoved me back down, carelessly rough, his eyes glinting with challenge, his dark golden skin gleaming in the lamplight. His gaze stayed locked with mine as he unbuckled his belt.
I was burning for him. On fire for him. Heat licked at my skin. The bed was hot, my body engulfed in fire, the sheets awash in it . . .
The dark, angry passion in his face transformed into shock as the bed burst into flames all around us.
“Esther!”
In one fluid motion, Lopez grabbed me, rolled off the bed, and threw me bodily across the room as he tumbled across the floor. Then he was on feet and hauling me up into his arms while I was still reeling from the fall. Half dragging and half carrying me, he got me out of the burning bedroom and down the hall before I understood what was happening.
“Fire extinguisher!” he shouted.
“Wh-what?”
He seized my shoulders, shook me, and shouted into my face, breaking through my shock with sheer volume, “Where’s the fire extinguisher?”
“Oh. Oh!” I tried to think. “Ki- ki—” I was shaking with reaction and could barely make my lips move. “Kitch—”
“Kitchen?” When I nodded, he shoved me toward the front door. “Go warn your neighbors! Then get out of the building!” He went into the kitchen and found the fire extinguisher. When he saw me just standing there, he shouted, “Go!”
I knew his instructions were sensible and that I should do what he told me. But I couldn’t leave him alone in my burning apartment. I just couldn’t. Even knowing that it was stupid and would make him angry, I followed him into the bedroom.
The bed was on fire, robust yellow flames rising from the mattress as if someone had tossed a firebomb into the sheets. Lopez sprayed the bed with foam from the