Fire & Ice

"I don't even know you. And you're pulling this shit on me? You're gonna die if I don't let you fuck me? News flash, boyo: nobody fucks me. I'm a top. End of. Lame ass, bullshit lines like, 'I'll die if I don't have your ass,' might work with guys like Denny, but they don't work with me. Christ. I thought you were different."

I stalked out without looking back.

Several of Paolo's relatives called to me as I walked through the big house but I ignored them. It wasn't until I got up to the first floor that the driver of the Escalade appeared in an archway, saw me, and intercepted me.

"Ian, what are you doing up here?"

He had no accent at all, and when I looked at him, I realized he didn't look much like the rest of the family members. He was taller than me by six inches and huge. I didn't see Denny anywhere.

"I need you to take me back to my car."

"Where's Paolo?"

"Not my concern." I shrugged, indifferent. "Where's Denny?"

"He's upstairs. What happened?"

"Do you have a name?"

"Michael."

"Michael. Great. Michael, I need a lift back to my car. And it's really none of your fucking business what happened."

"Yes, it is. I'm Paolo's personal security, which is why Denny is upstairs, 'cause I can't trounce all over his tight ass till I'm off shift and that ain't for another four hours." He backed me up against the wall and stared into my eyes. "Now, let's try this again. What are you doing up here, when you're supposed to be celebrating your engagement to Paolo?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Incredulity twisted my face. "We're not engaged!"

He sighed and shook his head. Stepping back from me, he clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Ian. We need to talk."

Michael propelled me through the house to a large kitchen. In short order he produced food and drink, cleared the room of people, and sat us down at the table. I squirmed in my seat at the intensity of Michael's gaze. "Did Paolo explain anything to you?"

"No. He said something about his grandmother saying I would come and that we were fire and ice. I thought it was romantic bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, kid. The Strakos Clan is one of the last authentic gypsy families. Paolo's gift is genuine. When he creates fire, it's real."

I frowned. "But tonight–"

"Yeah. You walked right through his flames. That's what his grandmother saw. That his mate would seek him out, that his mate would be headstrong and handsome, that his mate would be his match, and would have a heart of ice to match Paolo's heart of fire. The whole damn Clan gathered in America for this, Ian. For Paolo to find you."

I sat at the table, stunned. As much as I wanted to be done with one-night stands, now that the prospect of settling down presented itself, I was terrified. I wasn't good at relationships. Both times I attempted to make something last it had ended in disaster. I shuddered.

"Paolo's been traveling the country for the last three years looking for you. His babicka finally narrowed down where you were, and we've spent the last six months here." Michael looked away, an uncomfortable look on his face.

"What? What aren't you telling me?"

"Some of the Clan are pissed you're a guy and not a girl. Paolo is the last Strakos prince. The line will die with him."

"It's the 21st century." I rolled my eyes and bit into a piece of dark, crusty bread. "They've got other options."

"They would never do anything like that."

"So why would they accept two guys together?"

"Ian... homosexuality exists in every culture and species on the planet. They're old fashioned, not stupid."

"Sorry." I took another bite and chewed, trying to process things. So far, nothing that Michael told me fixed our essential problem. Then the light bulb over my brain flicked on and my head snapped up. I stared into Michael's eyes. "Paolo is straight, isn't he? That's why some of the Clan are upset. He's been searching for a girl this whole time."

Michael didn't seem at all fazed by me figuring it out. He simply belched, excused himself, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and nodded. "Yeah, he's straight and yeah, we thought we were looking for a girl. But that's the thing with the clans, Ian. Sometimes things turn out way different and they ain't like the rest of the world. They just shrug and roll with it."

The sick feeling in my chest tightened and my stomach twisted so badly I dropped my sandwich. Now I understood. "He doesn't want me."

Michael brayed, shaking with laughter. I tensed, my whole body going ice cold. Michael's laughter abruptly cut off and he frowned at me. "Ian, I'm gay. Paolo's got no issue with guys being with guys. I've seen the way he looks at you. I also caught the action in the backseat of the Escalade on the way over here." I blushed and looked away. "Paolo wants you just as bad as you want him."

"I don't think so, and the Clan doesn't like it." I picked at the sandwich on my plate and frowned; ice crystals coated the lettuce leaves. "I'll just go, and Paolo can find some chick to bang." Even as I said it, pain lanced through my chest like I'd been stabbed through the heart with an ice pick. Michael sat across the table and smirked at me.

"Didn't like that much, did you?" At my shrug, he raised his eyebrows. "Ian, you two are fated. You can't be with anybody else now that you've touched, kissed. And being with Paolo for the first time will bring you into your abilities."

"I don't have any abilities." I pushed the plate away. "This is nuts."

"Just now, when you mentioned Paolo fucking a girl? You let loose a blast of cold that nearly froze my balls off. Look at my fucking beer mug."

I glanced down at the table to see a rime of frost on the side of his glass that faced me. The same icy crystals I'd seen on my lettuce had formed on my plate, my cup, and the edge of the table in front of me. I stared at it, my eyes wide and my nostrils flaring.

"You need Paolo to help you, Ian. Let him bring you into your power and cement the engagement. It's for the best. You'll both be miserable otherwise."

I gripped the table with both hands. I raised my eyes and met Michael's gaze, trying not to scream. "To do all this, I have to let him fuck me, don't I?"

"Ian... you don't have control over your abilities. If you lose control with Paolo, you could completely extinguish him." Michael's eyes bored into me. "Do you get it, kid? You could put out his fire. Stop his heart." He sat back in his chair and pushed his fingers through his hair. "Once you guys are bonded and you have some control, well... then you guys can choose how you want to get down. But the first time..." Michael shook his head. "The first time you need to just lay back and relax." He picked up a frozen dill pickle, knocked it against his plate and dropped it in disgust. He gave me a very pointed look. "Think of England."

I shoved away from the table and stumbled back. My hip hit the counter, the pain bright and jarring but still not enough to pull me out of my shocked state. Paolo hadn't lied to me; he'd been telling the truth. It didn't matter. All I could think about was the terror of my adolescence, the four years I lived with my mother and step-father, finding reasons not to go home at night. I'd shoved those memories so far down, under so many layers of cold, hard ice I never expected to face them again. Yet here they were, bobbing to the surface of my mind to torture me because of Paolo Strakos.

"I need some air," I whispered.

Michael stood and led me out a small side door to a tiny garden. Three men of various ages stood out there smoking. He had a quiet word with them and they extinguished their smokes and went inside after nodding respectfully to me.

"You speak Czech."

I said it for lack of something better to say. I was seriously struggling. As much as I suddenly wanted this whole adventure and as much as I desired Paolo, the idea of letting anyone touch me, of submitting and giving a man my body, terrified me beyond reason. I swore after I left home that no one would ever have me again, willing or not. And now my whole future hinged on my surrender.

"It's one of the reasons they hired me."

"Michael?"

"Mmm hmm?"

"I can't do it." The words rushed out of me and along with them a blast of cold that froze a patch of the garden five yards wide and ten yards deep. I staggered back and Michael caught me, his hands around my upper arms.

"Breathe, Ian." He turned and shouted over his shoulder. "Získejte princ! Ted! Přesunout své zadky!" Pounding feet and voices answered his yell. I stared at the vegetation I just froze. My lungs hurt and I had what felt like an ice cream headache. My body throbbed all over. I was so cold.

"Milovaný ..."

Paolo's raspy voice whispered in my ear just before his arms slid around me from behind. Delicious heat and warmth spread through my body and I relaxed back into his strength. His scent filled my nose and I turned. As soon as I saw his face I was lost. Heaven help me, I don't know if it was fate, the alignment of the planets, food additives, magic, or something else entirely and to be totally honest, I didn't fucking care. Paolo Strakos melted the part of me that hadn't really felt anything in longer than I could remember, and I needed that.

I needed him.

"Oh god..."

My fingers slid into his mop of silky, curly black hair as he took my mouth. His kiss was so powerful my legs shook and my knees buckled. He pulled us together and as soon as the evidence of his arousal pressed into my hip I knew what Michael said was true. Paolo did want me, and I was going to try to do this. I shook so hard I thought my teeth would rattle in my skull, but Paolo held me, murmuring to me in Czech and trailing kisses along my neck and jaw.

Once again we went down to the basement kiln, and this time we didn't just shed our coats. This time we took off all our clothes and ended up sitting on the concrete altar with the kiln door firmly shut. Paolo stroked his hot hands down my arms and over my back.

"Talk to me. Please." He leaned in and feathered kisses over my cheeks and nose. "Why are you so reluctant? Is it because I've not been with men? It does not matter, Ian. I want you fiercely."

"I don't care that you're straight." I shook my head and twined our fingers together. "I'm afraid if I tell you, you won't want me anymore."

"You are the one meant for me. Nothing you could say will change that."

I took a deep breath. I held his hand tightly though I couldn't meet his eyes. "My step-father..." I couldn't force the words past the block of ice in my throat. If I said it I'd relive it and I couldn't. "He... When I was a kid... It was bad, Paolo. I told my mother and she... She didn't believe me. She stayed with him even after I left."

When Paolo didn't say anything, I looked up. Tears trickled from his eyes to evaporate before they could fall. He leaned in and gently kissed me. "I believe you. I would never hurt you, milovaný."

"What does that word mean?"

His white-hot mouth skimmed up to my ear. "Beloved," he whispered. "It means beloved, Ian. Let me love you. Please let me love you."

I nodded and lay back on the altar with him. It wasn't the most comfortable thing to lie on, but as we kissed and touched, I understood why we couldn't be in a bed. His body grew hotter and hotter, broiling against me. Chills raced over the surface of my skin as my body responded to his fire, but all it did was drive him to burn to even greater temperatures. No matter how hot he roasted, I met and matched his heat, surrounding, soothing and cooling him.

I'd never been so aroused in my life. My skin stung and my erection ached and dripped against his toasty warmth. He was long and hard, heavy with unspent passion, and when I closed my hand around our dicks and stroked, he writhed.

"Ian... don't; I won't last."

"I want to feel you come." I licked an icy trail up Paolo's neck and sank my teeth into his earlobe as I shuffled my hand along our shafts. His hands clutched my ass, his mouth sealed against my lips, and as he sucked the breath from my lungs, he came in great sizzling spurts onto the concrete altar. Steam rose up around us. I followed him seconds later, though I caught my release in the palm of my hand.

"Milovaný ... a souvenir?" Paolo wore his dirty half-smirk as he stared at my fluid-filled palm.

"I don't see any lube sitting out, and you're not small."

"Do you trust me?"

"I'm letting you do this, aren't I?"

"Then don't worry about that. Roll over."

I took a huge breath, wiped my hand on the concrete, and rolled over. Paolo blanketed my body with his and covered my back with kisses. He kissed and caressed, scalding his way down my body with his hands and mouth. I worked not to grind my dick against the altar under me. Nothing had ever felt so incredibly good.

His piping-hot hands held me steady as his mouth laved a path down my lower back to my tailbone. He spread me open and without any hesitation dove into me. I wasn't expecting a straight boy to go there, not with such gusto and lust anyway; I hadn't been rimmed in ages. Paolo was a master, licking and lapping at me with fierce determination until my body thawed and opened for him. I couldn't stop swearing and moaning his name. When our bodies slid around on the altar, I realized it was covered with a sheet of ice an inch thick everywhere but under Paolo's knees where he'd melted two puddles.

I was so close to coming again that when he slid a finger inside me I arched up and bucked into him. He kept his mouth on me, his tongue sawing into me along with his fingers.

"Paolo... now!"

"Roll over, milovaný."

I could find no purchase on the ice-covered altar and almost slid onto the floor before he helped me flip onto my back again. But then his lips were on mine, his hand closing around my slippery shaft at the same moment he pushed inside my body. The incandescent heat of his dick overwhelmed me. I screamed, and as he hilted inside me I detonated. Pleasure consumed me body and soul, devouring my world in one bite. Out of nowhere snow blasted the floor of the kiln, thick blustery flakes exploding upward to become instant steam as they met the ferocity of Paolo's fire.

Flames surrounded us, melting the ice on the altar though it continued to reform under me. Paolo looked like a phoenix rising from the ashes of my submission, his body barely visible within a mass of writhing flames as he moved, thrusting into me. I groaned, my erection revived, my body clenching around Paolo. He pounded into me, merciless and relentless in his drive to bring me pleasure. He fit into my body perfectly, and his sharp, short thrusts stabbed my trigger in a divine rhythm that kept me at the edge of orgasm. I reached down to stroke off and end the torment, then saw my arm. My skin was blue, covered in a film of ice. Paolo grabbed my hand and twined our fingers together, breaking the ice on my hand and melting the film all the way up to my elbow.

"You are so beautiful right now. So beautiful–" His voice was ragged.

"So are you." I scraped my nails down his chest, scoring his flesh with icy burns that smoked. "I'm close, babe, really close."

"Ian...ah, God you're tight. So good..." Scintillating colors fanned through his flames as his tossed his head back, the tendons in his neck straining and cording with his bliss.

"Paolo!"

Without warning, I froze. My whole body turned to ice. I couldn't move a single muscle and terror like I'd never known shrieked through me. I couldn't even scream. I struggled, trying like hell to move or make something happen, unreasoned panic driving me. Something inside me, right behind my heart, cracked open and energy sped through me like I'd taken a hit of meth. Then Paolo plunged deep inside me and heat radiated through my body. A great crackling, rushing sound filled my ears and ecstasy cascaded over me in waves as I shattered the ice, sending hail and ice chips pelting and pinging all around the concrete room. The orgasm was colossal, soul deep, and I covered Paolo with the snowy flakes of my release. My body milked him, squeezing him as I tripped, the orgasm seemingly endless.

With a phoenix's mating cry, Paolo shuddered and came into my quaking, trembling body. The intensity of his flames and my hailstorm mingled into an inferno that shook the kiln. With a huge thunderous boom, the concrete altar cracked under us and smoke billowed up in a cloud.

When the dust and elements settled, I blinked cautiously. Paolo cradled me protectively in his arms on the broken altar, still buried within my body. To my surprise, I found I liked him there. I felt complete, whole for the first time in my life, and safe. I kissed him, and he slipped from my body.

"Are you well, milovaný?" Paolo's dark eyes searched my face, his voice anxious.

"I think so."

"Be very careful rising. Pieces of the kiln table lay everywhere."

He and I climbed down, and it wasn't until we stood together, surveying the damage of the room, that I saw the streaks of blood on his body.

"You're bleeding!"

"Babicka will see to me once we leave the room." He shrugged. "I'm fine."

"No you aren't, you're bleeding. Turn around!"

At my imperious tone he grinned and took my hand. "Milovaný, they're just scratches."

As I stood there with him holding my hand, I realized how he received them. The razor sharp shards of flying ice sliced into his flesh as he brought me to orgasm, but he'd never stopped, hadn't even flinched as it happened. His entire focus had been on me. I felt sick as I stared at the bloody streaks covering his back and legs. By the look on his face, Paolo understood what I felt. I tried to tug my hand away from him but not only did he hold tight to it, he yanked me into his arms, wrapping me in an embrace.

"Listen to me, müj králík, this is nothing. Some scratches, a little blood, a kiln table: nothing. Do you understand?"

His tone was odd, fierce to the point of being harsh, and I pulled back to look into his face. His eyes looked haunted. I kissed him gently and nodded.

"I understand." Very slowly I smoothed a black curl up over his ear. "Paolo... what happened?"

He shook his head. "This is a night for celebration."

"I told you about my step-father." My voice was very quiet. I wasn't trying to guilt him into telling me; I just wanted us to be on common ground.

He sighed and gazed around at the destruction of the kiln room. "When we come into our ability, it's energetic. It's best for us to be brought in by another, so that we don't harm anybody."

"But... you said I could kill you."

"Your gift is the opposite of mine. You could've. But the alternative was for you to be with my cousin Katrinka, and that wasn't going to happen."

My face screwed up into a visage so awful that Paolo burst out laughing. I couldn't hold the terrible face I'd made at that point, and joined him in laughter. "No. Sorry. I don't touch vagina. No offense, straight boy, but I don't see the attraction."

"Not so straight anymore, Ian." He gave me a smoldering look that had me half-hard instantly. "After what we just did, and given what I'm going to let you do to me once my cousins clear out this rubble, I would say it's safe to assume I'm at least bisexual."

I smiled at him, then sobered. "You were telling me about coming into your power."

"I hid the signs it was manifesting. I'm so ashamed of that now. I didn't want to be the Strakos prince. I just wanted to be Paolo." His dark eyes locked onto my face. "You cannot change what is, Ian. I know that now. Because of me, because of my cowardice, a girl died. She was sweet and beautiful and innocent, and wanted nothing more than to lose that innocence with me." He looked away. "I murdered her."