The Invisible Ring

body.
    He flicked a glance at the hearth. The wood that had been readied to take the evening chill out of the room began to burn.
    A flick of his hand closed the curtains. Only the young fire lit the room, smudging all the sharp lines until there were no lines, until the walls seemed to disappear and go on forever.
    Another flick of his hand vanished all the furniture except the bed and the small tables on either side of it.
    Lia yelped when she landed on the floor. “Jared, what—”
    He walked toward her. Her eyes widened.
    “Can you hear the drums, Lia?” he asked softly.
    “Can you hear them? Like the land’s heartbeat. Or the heartbeat of the Shalador people.” He held out his hands. “Let me show you the Fire Dance.”
    He lifted her up and pulled her against him. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm. Her cold hands pushed at his waist.
    He did nothing but hold her, letting his eyes wander over her face.
    When she stopped trying to push him away, he slowly lowered his head, his lips parting for a kiss.
    She arched back to escape his lips. He smiled because it only pushed her hips tighter against his.
    Since she wouldn’t give him her mouth, he took her throat. Soft kisses. Gentle sucking.
    He licked her jaw.
    Her hands clamped on his waist.
    “Do you hear them, Lia?” he asked as he licked the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.
    “I—I hear something beating.” Her voice had gone husky.
    “The drums.” Jared brushed his lips over hers.
    Her eyes were dark smoke. “Is there someone singing?”
    “Yes,” he whispered into her ear. “Listen to her. Follow her. The Fire Dance lies at the end of her voice.”
    He covered her mouth with his and let them both sink into the drums and the voice and the musky twilight.
    Stepping back, he drew her into the center of the room.
    Lia plucked at the sweater. “It’s warm in here.”
    “Take it off,” Jared suggested quietly as he slowly circled her, his feet automatically following the set pattern of steps.
    Lia tossed the sweater aside. She puffed out her cheeks. “Maybe we should open a window.”
    “Maybe you should take off the shirt.” His fingertips brushed down her arm as he moved past her. “The Fire’s supposed to be hot.”
    She reached for the first button. Her hand froze. Her eyes locked on the golden chest that glistened from more than one kind of heat.
    “Let me help.” Jared gave her a feathery kiss while he used Craft to undo all the buttons. His hands brushed the shirt aside, brushed it over her shoulders, brushed it down her back.
    She made breathy little sounds.
    “Watch me.” He stepped back into his circle. “Watch the Dance.”
    “Aren’t—” Lia puffed out her cheeks again. “Aren’t you supposed to be naked when you do that?”
    He vanished the trousers.
    She gulped and tried to stare at her feet, but he’d already drawn her in too deeply. She raised her head and watched him dance, watched the muscles flex, watched him smile as he moved his hips, watched the shadows form into other dancers.
    Listening to the drums, Jared increased the tempo, stepping close enough to brush against her, stepping back to widen the circle.
    She pivoted in the center of the circle, her eyes following him, no longer shy enough to look away from a male celebrating his maleness.
    As the drums began to fade, Jared wrapped an arm around Lia’s waist and whirled her around the room until they reached the side of the bed.
    Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her long and deep.
    “Let me show you the rest of the Fire Dance,” he said hoarsely.
    She didn’t answer. But the look in her eyes was answer enough.
    He undressed her slowly, coaxed her into the bed, and stretched out beside her.
    She shifted a little to move her hips away from his throbbing cock.
    He shifted with her.
    “It’ll be all right,” he said as his hand glided down her arm and back again. “It’ll be all right.”
    While he brushed his lips against hers, he reached with his mind and brushed lightly against her inner barriers.
    She recoiled with a gasp.
    Jared murmured soothing nothings while he kissed and caressed her.
    Always before, he’d given pleasure in order to escape the pain of punishment. Now he gave pleasure for the pleasure of giving it. He explored her body, fascinated by the muscles that quivered, and finally relaxed, under his light touch. He tasted her, rubbed himself against her so that her scent would be on his skin and his on hers. He laughed silently when her fingers dove into his hair to