Fiery Little Thing: A Dark Academy Romance
Fiery Little Thing: Chapter 23

Turning up the volume dial on the stereo, the music fills the background of the chaos and I go back to watching Blaze.

Wiping traces of us clean from this house is going to be a nightmare. The murder weapon will need to go, the nails disassembled, the bat disposed of, and the paperwork from Jonathan will need to be strategically placed. Anything and everything to stop the police from linking this back to Blaze.

It needs to be clean, but not so clean that it looks like it was done by a professional. It must be done messily, just enough to make it seem like the intruder didn’t spend long here.

Blaze, on the other hand? She’s doing her job spectacularly. Kicking boxes, emptying them upside down, flicking lamps across the room, ripping pillows in half, turning the bed over, and checking every conceivable hiding place known to man. She skirted the line of crime of passion; now, she’s a woman on a mission. I’m not sure what exactly she’s looking for as she checks for hidden drawers and coat pockets, but she’s in her element, coated in blood, half naked, and seething with rage.

She’s a whirlwind of complete and utter chaos. Watching her come undone is the most mesmerizing thing I have ever seen. My heart aches seeing her as unbidden as she is now, with her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. The thread she was holding on to earlier has turned to ash, and all that’s left is for her to fall.

Leaning against the balcony, I flick the wheel on my lighter and watch her rampage through the house, tipping over everything in sight. The music from the speakers vibrates along the wooden floors, barely loud enough to be heard above Blaze’s frenzy. It’s odd that she hasn’t once pocketed anything or put something aside to take later.

Minutes roll by as she rapidly turns the house into an abandoned bomb site rather than a home. She pants and grunts as she runs around with zero methodology to how she zigzags through the house.

A stack of paper falls over as my lighter digs into my palm, feeling like a lead weight. It would be so easy for me to bend over and put the flame next to it—

I stamp down the thought. This is her moment, not mine.

Blaze huffs out a breath and marches to the only untouched furniture in the house: the antique redwood liquor cabinet. For the first time since the floodgates opened, she pauses. Standing before the cabinet, she eyes the selection of wines and near-empty bottles of whiskey and bourbon. It’s the only part of the house that might indicate McGill works amongst high society.

Blaze lunges to the side of the cabinet and lets out a feral cry, sending the glass hurtling onto the floor. She jumps back against my chest as the glass flies across the room in an explosion of browns and white. The last shard settles on the floor, and everything becomes still except for the heavy rise and fall of her chest.

The music is a distant melody as the air grows thicker with each breath we take. The more she eases her weight onto me, the more she trembles, tearing at a part of my soul. A sob racks through her whole body and I squeeze my eyes shut. I never thought a sound could make my heart splinter in two. The pain of her sorrow winds its way around every organ, every cell, every fiber.

I tuck her head against my chest and carry her into the living room, where there’s the sharp smell of smoke lingering in the air from the dying embers of the downstairs fireplace. The lights are on, revealing the wreckage of broken furniture, emptied boxes of clothes and ornaments, and the empty space before the fireplace. I lower her shaking form onto a spot on the rug, then stuff a piece of newspaper into the coals and add another log to the pile. Grabbing the lighter, I hold it to the corner of the paper. Turning the spark wheel, I watch it catch fire and quickly eat up the words written on it.

My lungs feel like ash as I watch her rock herself in her spot, muffling her sobs with a hand over her mouth. Her brows are etched together in a vicious frown as if the tears burning down her cheek are from a place of rage.

I had never heard her cry until we were sent to Seraphic Hills. If I can barely handle the sight of her hungover, nothing will undo me like seeing her tears. It hurts far more than any words she’s shot my way because it means it’s gone too far. She’s gone too far. I should have done the final blow or made her stay behind as I took him out.

She deserves the whole fucking world, not scraps. My girl is a fighter; always has been, and always will be. She’s been through more battles than I have, and I will never be half as resilient as she is.

But the fighting will have to stop. One day, she won’t have any more punches to throw.

I don’t want to be her grief. I don’t want to be any part of the reason she feels the need to curl her fingers into fists or keep her walls up around herself. I don’t even want to be her everything.

I want her heart to beat easily the second she wakes up in the morning. I want her to smile for the sake of smiling. Laugh, cry tears of joy, skip around until she’s shitting fucking rainbows. I want her to be happy. And if everyone has to die for that to happen, then I better get good at digging graves.

“I’m sorry, Blaze. It’s my fault.” I drop onto my knees in front of her. “I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t,” Blaze grits out, yanking me down to her by my shirt. My arms flick out to stabilize myself on either side of her. “Don’t you dare finish your sentence. He was my tormenter, so he was mine to kill.”

The muscle in my jaw twitches. “But—”

She slams her mouth against mine, crushing me in a bruising kiss. Her arms snake around my neck as she climbs on top of me, trapping me down with her thighs. I’m too stunned to do much more than let her. The cold wetness on her cheeks smears across my skin as our lips move together as if I’m the cure she’s been searching for all her life.

“Blaze,” I say between her fevered touches. She pushes me back to straddle my hips, and I curse when she grinds on me. “Blaze.” It comes out more sternly this time, and she reacts by gripping my short hair to deepen the kiss. The warm air from the fire caresses my skin when she tugs my shirt up, and I wrap my hand around her throat to push her back. Her pulse rampages beneath my thumb as her breathing comes out in short bursts. “Blaze,” I warn, voice hoarse.

“Please.” She claws at my shirt as the fire starts to roar, making my dick grow even harder. “I want to feel human again.”

My heartbeat catches from the sheer desperation in her voice. “Anything for you, Thief.” Anything.

Our lips collide, and it’s as if I can hear her walls crumble around her. Salty tears mix into her taste of cherries and ferocity, and my lungs expand to get my fill of her. Each kiss sends another heady thought straight through me, and I kiss her back with the same reverent intensity. The movement of our lips is saying more than words ever could: I’m sorry for everything. I trust you. I need you. Stay.

When she reaches for the bottom of my sweatshirt, I let her pull it off my head. It isn’t lost on me that this is the first time she’s reached for me. Ever since we’ve met, I’ve been the one who crawls to her, wanting whatever scraps she drops along the way. I laid awake at night dreaming about her, wondering what it would feel like to have her smile directed to me. I dreamed that I would be the one she called for, the one she could rely and lean on. And lately, I’ve been imagining what it would be like if she’s the first one who leans in to kiss me. If she’s the one who hugs me and touches me just because she wants to.

Blaze rips off both our gloves and never once falters in grinding her hips against my cock. The dried blood on her skin flakes away with each pass of our bodies.

She whimpers when I break the kiss to flip us around so she’s lying on the vintage rug. “I need to taste you,” I pant against her lips as I undo her bra then tug her pants and panties down.

Moving back, I take a moment to admire my very own fiery little thing: completely bare from the neck down, legs spread, and impatient for me. Every inch of Blaze is—and always has been—stunning: the freckles dotting her chest, the mole on her hips, the red tint of her pebbled skin, the pucker of her swollen lips.

Violent. Deranged. Disastrous.

Perfect.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Blaze.” I’ve barely touched her, and she’s already swollen and raw. I’ll never get over how fucking delicious her pussy looks when she’s dripping wet. A moan tumbles past her lips when I drag my tongue along her wet core. Sweetness explodes on my taste buds as I dive in for more. I knew she’d be my favorite addiction from the moment I met her. Even once I’m six feet deep, I’ll still be craving every part of her. I want to consume her, taste every inch of her until I get sick on it, and then do it all over again.

I circle her nub before kissing her bloodstained skin, living for the way it makes her shudder. The friction of the carpet against my chest stings, but it doesn’t stop me from slipping my tongue into her pussy. Her moans engulf every one of my senses as I bask in the taste of her. I have no idea what I’m doing, but there isn’t a thing about her that I’m not willing to learn. Everything I have to give is hers.

Her hands fly into my hair with a whimper, painfully twisting the short strands through her fingers. She keeps my head steady as she grinds her hips against my waiting tongue. This woman can do whatever she wants to me as long as it makes her feel good.

Curses spill from her mouth as she bucks in an erratic rhythm. She cries out and mutters a string of pleas I can’t make out, and I decide that she’s had enough. I shift from my stomach to my knees, and clamp her hips down with my arm, holding her still. She gnashes her teeth in protest, then her eyes roll to the back of her head when I push my fingers into her warm cunt.

I keep glancing between her and the fire, experimenting as I pummel into her pussy; hooking my fingers, swirling my tongue on her clit, licking up and down, side to side, until she cries when I suck on her nub.

Her claws descend on me, kicking and scratching as I continue my incessant ministrations. The bottom of her cherry tattoo peeks out as she lifts her legs, and I have to stop myself from placing my hand there. The lewd sounds from her pussy, the taste of her, her moans, the heat from the fire, it’s all too much. My cock strains against my jeans, but I can’t reach down to alleviate the tension without letting go.

Her breathing shudders as it quietens, her muscles roiling and tightening around my fingers. “Come for me, baby.” My voice rumbles against her clit, and she sucks in a sharp breath before spasming around me.

Blaze barely gives herself a second to recover before she’s wiggling out from under me. Something about the wild spark in her eyes drops my defenses and allows her to push me onto my back so my head is a foot away from the fireplace.

She yanks my pants down my hips far enough for my cock to spring out. In the span of a single breath, her lips are around my cock, and all of the air punches out of my lungs.

Jesus fuck.

There’s no easing into it. No experimenting. Blaze takes me as far down as she can go as if she’s been starved her entire life and I’m her saving grace.

“That’s my good whore.” I groan, gripping her hair as she moves. She gags but doesn’t let up, gagging and moaning as she twirls her tongue around my beading precum before closing her mouth around me.

“Look at you, choking on my cock,” I muse and push up onto my elbows to get a better view. My legs quiver as she pushes her head down until I touch the back of her throat. She does it over and over, relentlessly, using her bruised hand to pump what she can’t fit. “Pathetic. You can barely handle it.”

Her eyes harden as they tear, taking me further until the muscles in her throat convulse around me. It’s hypnotic watching my cock disappear into her swollen lips. She gags and moans and shudders, but her determination never falters. The orange glow brings out the threads of gold within her hair as if she has a halo of fire. Blue eyes pierce mine, as saliva webs around my cock and drips down her chin like she’s feasting.

“That’s it,” I croon as tears keep streaming down her face. Fuck, the only time this girl is ever allowed to cry is when she’s choking on my cock. Her glassy eyes catch the gleam from the fire behind me. “You can take it.” I wind my fingers in her hand and hold her down as I fuck her mouth, loving the ensuing sounds and her small act of revenge as she digs her nails into my thigh hard enough to break layers of skin. My head tips back with a groan. “If you keep going like this, I’m going to coat your pretty mouth with my come.”

The second I let go of her head, Blaze is on top of me, sliding her soaking pussy along my cock. I latch onto her nipples when her tits close in on my face, and she reaches for the fireplace behind me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, eying the charcoal in her shaking hand.

“Are you mine?” Her breathless words make me still. The corners of her eyes crinkle as tears continue to fall; I only wish I knew why she’s crying. “Kohen, tell me you’re mine.” Desperation bleeds into her voice as she grips the charcoal tighter.

“Every part of me is yours to take, Thief.” I reach up to wipe away her tears and sit upright on the floor to wind my arm around her waist, almost making us eye level. “You haven’t just marked my brain, Blaze. You’re forever engraved into my skin.”

“What if you make me come undone and find nothing there that you want?”

Brushing my lips over hers, I say, “I’ve seen all of you, and you wedge yourself deeper into my soul every time I see more.”

I frown when she pushes me away. Then, my heart feels like it will implode on itself when she takes the stick of charcoal to her bloodstained skin. Each line is messy and uneven beneath her trembling hands, some letters smudged by a wet streak. I stop breathing entirely when she stops writing the letters across her chest.

There, written in the remnants of my vice on her skin, is one name.

KOHEN‘S

Wiping away the tears with the back of her hand, she says, “I want to be yours, Kohen.” There’s so much surety in Blaze’s voice that I feel like I’ve been hit a thousand times over.

She’s saying my name and she’s saying it like she loves it. Wants it. Needs it.

I cup her jaw in my hand, swinging my gaze between her and the letters on her chest. “You always have been. It’s not something you’ve ever had a say in. Blaze and Kohen.” At her furrowing brows, I explain, “That’s what I carved into the bat I wanted to give you when we were kids.”

The fiery beauty in front of me sniffles and wipes away the remainder of her tears. “You were trying to kill me with it,” she protests, all hard lines and brimming with fire. There’s my girl.

“No, Klepto. Your arms were weak, and you were shit at throwing punches.”

Her jaw drops.

“I got it for you so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and you’d finally do some real damage.”

Blaze’s face twists into a mix of irritation and shock until it settles on a barely restrained smile that lights up the blues of her eyes before her pupils dilate. She lowers her forehead to mine. “Kiss me, Pyro.”

“Say please.”

She hits my chest. “Now, asshole.”

I shrug. “You know what you need to say.”

“Fine.”

A grunt escapes me as she shoves me onto my elbows, then raises her hips, positioning me at her entrance to lower herself onto the tip. The muscles in my abs quake as her cunt swallows my cock, milking me without even moving.

“My little slut is doing so good,” I say when she whimpers and halts her descent. Balancing on one arm, I circle my thumb around her clit and capture one of her nipples between my teeth.

She unleashes a strangled moan that has her easing herself further onto my cock. White dots flash behind my eyes, and I have to concentrate on the sound of the dying fire so I don’t finish before she gets to come again. The tension in my balls tightens as she starts bouncing on my dick, taking me a little deeper each time she goes. Leaning back, I watch her eyes flutter closed and her lips part as she cries out every curse known to man.

I flip us over and pummel her into the floor. I tower over her as I imprint each letter of my name on her chest into memory. Blaze is mine. She finally wants to be mine.

I kiss her because if I don’t, I might say something that will make her take the words back. My eyes dart up to the fire above us as I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, feeling the blood bead along my back from her nails digging there.

She clamps her teeth down on my shoulder, and I grip her thigh, slamming into her to make her scream and release my flesh from between her teeth.

“How many fucking bite marks am I going to need to tattoo, Thief?” I growl.

She shrugs, panting as a coy grin spreads across her face. “Until you’re covered in them.”

I could get used to this.

“I’m burning for you.” My voice comes out like gravel as I fight the urge to come.

She snorts. “That’s the most embarrassing shit I’ve ever heard.”

Fucking hell.

My fingers move from her clit to her neck. “Enough talking, Blaze.”

She manages to wink before I start rutting into her, slamming all the way into her each time I do. My kleptomaniac slaps my back uselessly as my vision swims. I grab onto her throat, keeping her right beneath the fireplace that’s coating us in a fresh layer of smoke.

“Who’s my dirty whore?” I grunt, breathing in the smell of cherries and ash.

“Get fucked,” Blaze moans, struggling to keep her heavy eyelids from falling.

Displeasure cuts down my spine. “I said who’s my dirty little whore? You want to come, Blaze? Then you better fucking say it, or else you’re walking out of here with my come dripping down your thighs.”

“You’re pulling out,” she threatens.

A smirk splits across my face. “Or what? You’re so helpless like this,” I tease, slamming into her with brutal, unrelenting strokes. “How do you think you’re going to stop me?”
I cut off her oxygen before she can respond, but still, I manage to hear her whisper the words I want to hear. I’m yours, Kohen.

Once I start rubbing her clit, it doesn’t take long for her to hit me aimlessly as her core tightens around me and she’s gasping my name, choking my cock for everything that it’s worth. Her hips buckle against mine as white heat blinds me, sending pleasure to each corner of my body as I coat the inside of her with my come. She tries to kick me away, but I hold firm, emptying myself out and marking her in more ways than one.

“You prick!” Blaze yells as soon as I release her throat and ease out of her.

Using my fingers to push my come back into her pussy, I rumble against her ear, “If you let any of it fall out, I’m taping your pussy shut once I’m done filling you next time.”

Blaze hasn’t said a word since we left the house in a state ready for the cops. Her arms are limp around my shoulders and her soft snores brush the side of my neck, and I have to carefully adjust her legs around my waist so as not to wake her when she only stopped shaking ten minutes ago.

The sky slowly lightens with the coming dawn. My arms are dead, my back is killing me, and it feels like my legs are going to give out as I continue walking aimlessly through the forest just to let Blaze sleep a little longer.

I’ve always wanted this too.

For her to trust me enough to let her guard down. To let me bear her burdens.

She’d freeze up every time she saw McGill’s body while we were cleaning. Sex was a temporary distraction, but reality always comes back, and hers is bleaker than most. She thought I didn’t notice how her hands shook or that I heard her throw up again. But I noticed it all.

She may have chinks in her armor, but it’s still ironclad. There’s no doubting her resilience. When she wakes up, the events of the past forty-eight hours will hit like a ton of bricks. It will probably still hurt tomorrow, the day after, and maybe even months from now. But she’ll get through it, and I’ll be there every second of the way. Nothing will separate us.

Just before the sun tips over the horizon, I head back into school. Somehow, she must know our night is coming to an end because she stirs in my arms and I hold her tighter, not wanting to let her go.

“Not yet,” Blaze’s warm breath fans over my heated skin.

“I’d do this all night if my arms weren’t about to fall off.”

“You lack the dedication,” she murmurs sleepily.

I smirk and gently kiss the top of her hooded head. “Dedication is all I’ve had for years because someone kept being a bitch.”

“Your fault.” She snorts softly as she nuzzles closer to my neck. “We can sit. You’re comfy.”

A soft smile spreads across my lips. “Do you think you can just order me around?”

“Yes.”

God, she’s fucking right.

I station us on a log hidden away from any of the main buildings. Blaze doesn’t move from her spot, keeping her arms and legs around me as if she’s fusing herself to me—I like it too much to fathom. I want this girl tattooed onto my skin and engraved into my heart, so even when I die, I’ll still have a part of her with me.

“How do you feel?” The words feel different on my tongue. I’ve never asked anyone that before. Blaze has always worn her emotions on her sleeve, so it’s never been very hard to work her out. But she needs to talk about what happened.

“Fantastic,” she says sarcastically.

“How do you feel?” I repeat, my voice lower.

She sighs, running her fingers up and down my back. “I just killed a man.”

I silently wait for her to continue.

“I killed a man, and I don’t feel bad that he’s dead. I killed a man, and I would do it again. I killed a man, and… and it won’t change anything.” There’s an air of hopelessness around her that I don’t like one fucking bit.

Slipping my hands beneath her clothes, I start rubbing the soft skin of her back in slow, steady circles. “McGill has paid for what he’s done. That alone is priceless. Now, for the next month you won’t have him breathing down your neck or going anywhere near you.”

Blaze shakes her head. “But my grandfather is still alive.”

“For now.”

“And he’s going to lock me up the second I get out of here.”

“Not happening.” And that’s the truth.

“How do you know that?”

I grasp her cheek to stare into the sterling-blue eyes I’ve been getting lost in since I was a child. “Because you won’t let that happen. You’ll fight until your nails bleed and everybody has fallen. Not because you have to, but because that’s who you are. You’re a fighter. But you don’t need to fight the world alone. You never did.”

She leans her forehead against mine, letting me take her weight. “What if…” Her eyes search the space between us. “What if my grandfather wins?”

“Then we’ll both go down together.” Her eyes flash at my declaration. “Maybe I haven’t made it clear to you; I will hunt you down to the end of the earth just so you don’t feel alone for a second. I will find you, even in another lifetime. If you’re in hell, then I’ll burn willingly. My soul is yours, Thief.”

A sad smile touches her lips as her cheeks beam red. “That’s the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Shut up, Blaze.” I scoff.

“What about you?”

I frown. “What about me?”

“I’m not the only one with a horrendous family.”

The muscle in my jaw twitches. “As much as I hate them, I don’t want them dead. That’s too easy an escape for them. Their downfall has been on my agenda since the day they chose my brother.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The Osmans are idiots. We’re destined to fall on our own swords eventually.”

“And what’s your sword?”

I press a kiss to her forehead. “You.”

“But I’m more of a baseball bat kinda girl.” She grins half-heartedly.

“Then we have a month to turn you into a blade.”

“Sounds like Blaze,” she whispers under her breath.

Fucking hell. This girl.

“You get my point,” I grumble.

She holds her pinky finger out to me. “We both get our revenge.”

Something in my heart expands and grows five times its size. With or without a pinky promise, I’ll help her burn each and every motherfucker who has ever wronged her. It’s hard enough to see her bruises without breaking out of here to make her grandfather my first kill. But she’s always been the fire. She’s the one who strikes the match. I’m here to watch it burn.

I interlock our pinkies and nod. “We both win.”

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