Spark into Flame Chapter 2

Updated on October 26, 2018
Ameraka profile image

Evelyn has published 2 novels, Justice Lost and Rescue, and 2 scifi/fantasy short stories in magazines.

Chapter 2

He reached for her, lightning gone, but she writhed away from him, electric current still dancing across her limbs.

Of course, she had expected too much; it was not her duty to receive, anyway, only to give, but still she couldn’t shake the fear, the betrayal.

“I’m sorry! Sky—I—” Sorrow shredded his voice.

He reached for her again, but she dove beneath the flowers. Their scent enveloped her. Her heart pounded, fearing he’d invade her space, but he didn’t. She lay there, trembling, till the flowers carried her away on a sea of oblivion….

For a long time, silence. Blessed numbness.

Then, his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just that this is new to me and I was getting carried away, not controlling my lightning. You were so wonderful and I thought you were...starting to want me. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t control it. I don’t want to hurt you.” It wasn’t just his words; she’d heard plenty of apologies before. It was his tone of voice. How broken he was that he’d hurt her. How much he cared about what she felt.

Reluctantly, she poked her head out of the flowers. He was sitting, his back to her, his head in his hand, his flawless skin taut over well-defined muscles.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “It was mine. It didn’t really hurt that much, it just—startled me. As Royalty, you’re supposed to have as much lightning as possible.”

“I’m supposed to be able to control it.”

“It has to be hard to control so much.”

“I’ve never lost control—at least, not since I was little. I had no idea what would happen if I was with a woman—perhaps I should have practiced more….”

“You didn’t lose control when you were with the trainer?”

He shook his head. “She was attractive, but she wasn’t you. You and I are supposed to be compatible, after all—chosen for each other. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were what I wanted—the image of perfection. I maybe should’ve let the pro teach me how to control my lightning, but I didn’t want to betray you. If it means hurting you, though, maybe I should have gone all the way.”

“You mean you didn’t—” Shock traveled through her. Almost everyone practiced before they were married. Especially the Royalty. But Ember and his father had strange ideas.

He shook his head. “I wanted you to be my first. A little naïve, maybe, but now we have to make the best of it. Now that we’re married, I’m not about to bring in anyone else.”

It meant that he was less experienced than her. Despite his beauty, he’d never been with a woman. That explained some of his embarrassment. It was endearing—and it took some of the pressure off of her. She didn’t have to wonder if her long-ago training from her father was adequate. She’d been a young girl then and had hardly known what she was doing. Now, maybe, she could start anew. Start fresh with him. Pretend it had never happened— rip that piece of past out of her heart.

He deserved that. To not have that shadow hanging over his first time.

Somehow, she had to get past her fear. It was true, the lightning had mostly just startled her; she could push through the pain and pretend it didn’t hurt, for him.

She crept toward him on her knees, plowing flowers in front of her. Rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m willing to try again.”

He lifted his hand, tentatively touching her cheek. “I’ll try to hold back my lightning,” he said.

She pressed her lips to his. They responded, moving in time with hers.

Pleasure this time—softly creeping up through her—elation at being able to feel—maybe being able to erase the past—if not erase it, then shut it off into the furthest corner of her mind….

She slid back, wanting to give him the best experience possible but at a loss of how to do it—she had to erase the past, but that was the only experience she had. Somehow she had to please him with a blank slate, to be just as inexperienced as he was—how could she please him this way?

At least he didn’t have anything to compare it to. Or did he?

“How far did you go with the trainer?” she asked.

“It’s that obvious?”

She shook her head. “Just wondering what she showed you. If I can do what she did.”

“I like what you’re doing now.” He kissed her cheek, down the side of her neck. She gasped, leaned back. Maybe they didn’t need a trainer to teach them how to do this—they were compatible, after all. She couldn’t let her fear be a barrier to their happiness. She could push through the pain. It might be worth it. Excitement gripped her. Perhaps marriage to the Heir would be more than a privilege; perhaps she’d enjoy it. He seemed different. Someone she could trust. Maybe even love….

He kissed her shoulder. “For example—” he said—“She showed me this.” He kissed her in a way that her father had. She forced herself to stay numb, frozen like a statue of ice

He sat back. “Sorry. She said that was something you would like.”

“I like it—keep going.”

“No, you don’t. Sky—I want to give you what you want. You can tell me if it’s not working.”

“You’re amazing—the prince, the Heir—”

He touched her gently on the cheek. “No. Here, I’m none of those things. Here, I’m Ember.”

“Ember,” she said, the word heavy on her tongue like a coal.

“Why don’t you show me what you want? Take the lead—I’ll just lie back—” He lay back in the flowers, almost submerged in them. She leaned over him, kissed him on the mouth. Kissed down the center of his chest.

It did feel good to take the initiative—to decide what she’d do with her own body. Not let it be a tool to be used, a toy to be broken.

He’d let her have this freedom. Gratitude swelled inside her. He’d shown remorse for the lightning, something another Royal would have disregarded completely. She wanted to discover him and to reward him, not because it was her duty but because she wanted to.

Here, she was freer than she had ever been.

She used her freedom to kiss him, pressing her lips to his firm, warm skin. She did it with reckless abandon, and then let him respond with kisses of his own. She’d always come back to his mouth—his devastating, wonderful mouth.

She kissed him in a building frenzy, heat burning inside her. Merging with his. She hardly realized it before she was crushed up against him, dancing together—and electric current blurred between them, blue static biting into her with small snaps—he was controlling it, and she was liking this—cold fear clutched her at the thought of what she’d have to do soon but even with her fear she didn’t want to stop. He was fire—his skin a delicious, forbidden fruit—his eyes twin coals that blazed into hers—

She fought the dread. The pain would be her gift to him.

The blue lightning enveloped them but its soft tingles barely hurt—

She braced herself for the pain

Pleasure ripped her open—a molten burning—lightning snapped into her, rippling across her arms but part of it was hers traveling into him and it hurt but not like it used to—and then lightning surged down his arm and she realized he’d channeled some of it there—with a slash he lashed it away from her—

Joy flooded her. It had been more wonderful than she could have ever dreamed—and it had hurt, but hadn’t torn her—it had shocked her, but hadn’t burned her—

She turned to him, laying her hand on his chest. Lightning snapped from her fingers to his skin. His golden eyes caught hers. She kissed him.

“That was—amazing,” she said.

“So were you,” he gasped. “I knew there was pleasure to it but I never thought—I couldn’t imagine more pleasure than you just gave me.” He kissed her, tucked his hand behind her ear. “I can’t believe you’re mine. All mine—” He smothered her in kisses. She laughed. Amazed at what he’d given her, beyond what she’d expected—her fears unfounded.

“My Ember,” she said, savoring the taste of his name.

“My Sky.” He drew his hand down over her cheek. Traced her lips.

She pressed against him, his warm body still trembling.

On the other side of the bed a charcoal scar marred the golden wall, still smoking.

“You did that?” she said, incredulous.

“I had to channel my extra power—I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Thank you,” she said, marveling at the strength he’d had to control his own power even while in the throes of passion—and to care enough for her to keep her from too much pain.

She pressed her cheek to his and tucked her fingers into his luxuriant black hair, her blonde hair spilling across his chest.

In a few moments, she fell asleep, wrapped in his arms, half-buried in the flowers.

Questions & Answers

    © 2018 Evelyn


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      • amberiftekhar profile image


        5 months ago from karachi

        i want to read


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