Page 81 of D'Vaire or Nothing
“I love you too. Take your time. There’s no rush; we’ve got all fucking night.”
With a nod, Brinley stepped away from Heathcliff so he could concentrate. His mate was so enticing, if there wasn’t enough distance between them, Brinley would put off literally anything to strip the man. Shutting off his thoughts of a naked Heathcliff, Brinley closed his eyes.
Delving into his soul and the fire calmly blazing in its depths, Brinley separated a piece of himself—careful to push everything he’d learned about sorcery into it. Brinley pushed it out into the air in front of him and focused solely on the design he wanted. Heating his magic, he imagined the brightest, hottest flames. The prettiest blue formed in his head. That was what he wanted.
Brinley continued to concentrate intently while shutting out the world as he imagined the cute phoenix he wanted to be a part of his life. A long tail like Heathcliff’s and big blue eyes with flaming pupils. So intent on ensuring each feather was carefully sculpted in his mind, Brinley lost track of time. Which was why he jumped when he heard Heathcliff’s voice.
“What the fuck?” Heathcliff exclaimed. “Brinley, do something.”
Opening his eyes, Brinley laughed. The little phoenix he wanted was fully formed and adorable. He was also licking Heathcliff’s face.
“Spark, be nice to Heath,” Brinley said through his chuckles.
Heathcliff gently grabbed the affectionate elemental and tucked him in his arm. “Behave yourself. I want your mage to lick me, not you.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about it.”
“Easy for you to say, your cheek isn’t soggy with elemental spit.”
“Okay, Spark, you have two choices,” Brinley said, reaching out to pet his new elemental, who gave a little shriek of delight at the affection. “Either you go hang out in your new apartment over there or you can fly out and meet our family. But you’re on your own because I need to finish my matebond.”
Spark immediately flew toward the bedroom door, and Heathcliff pulled his phone out. “Hang on, I don’t want him outthere getting scared or something. I’m texting Kieran. He and Scheredin can phoenixsit.”
Happy to share a few more minutes with the elemental, Brinley gave him scratches under his beak. Spark made all kinds of happy chirping noises, and Brinley was glad he’d finally summoned him. There was a knock on the door no more than a minute later, and Heathcliff opened it to reveal his brother and the warlock he loved.
“Damn, look how cute he is,” Kieran exclaimed. The elemental flew up and licked the phoenix’s face.
“Well, I guess he has the same taste in men that I do,” Brinley mused.
Scheredin chuckled. “We should start a club.”
“No, because Brinley would want to call it something obnoxious like the purple dick club,” Heathcliff drawled.
“He knows me so well,” Brinley replied. “You guys cool with taking care of Spark until tomorrow morning? You can text or call if he freaks and we need to come get him.”
Kieran cradled Spark in his arms like a baby. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re giving him back. See you later.”
The trio disappeared, and Brinley turned to Heathcliff. “Um, he’s going to return my elemental, right?”
“Can’t you summon him?”
Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, Brinley blew out a breath. “Yes. Sorry, I’ve only been an elemental parent for a few minutes.”
“You did a great job; he’s going to be a big hit around here.”
“He’ll probably hang out with you more than me. That’s what the other elementals do, right?”
“We’ll find out.” Heathcliff pulled Brinley into his arms. “Are you ready to focus on getting that second hoop?”
Brinley set aside everything that wasn’t related to how badly he wanted Heathcliff inside him. “Absolutely.”
“Good, get your clothes off.”
“You better be getting naked too.”
Heathcliff kissed him softly, then pulled away and headed for the bed. “I need to get rid of all these pillows and shit first.”
Delighted that Heathcliff had a plan, Brinley dragged his T-shirt off and removed his sneakers. Heathcliff bent to drag the coverlet to the edge of the bed, and Brinley swore the temperature of the room rose by at least fifty degrees as faded denim stretched across the Brynewielm Duke’s fine ass.
