“Looking forward to it,” he said with that wicked grin.
I arched an eyebrow and slipped my hands under his sweater, doing nothing more than exploring the hard planes of his stomach, reveling in the pleasure of simply touching him. Then I tugged his sweater free, let it drop to the floor, and once again explored the magnificence on show, this time with tongue and lips rather than just touch, following the happy trail of hair until I reached the barrier of his jeans. I undid the button, sliddown the zip, and then dropped to my knees, letting my tongue play across his erection until his body was trembling and I was tasting precum.
He made a low sound in the back of his throat, dragged me upright, then picked me up and threw me onto the bed. I laughed and scrambled under the comforter, watching as he hastily stripped off his remaining clothes.
“Prepare to be ravished, wench,” he growled, and climbed in beside me.
“Looking forward to it,” I murmured.
His lips once again claimed mine, and from that moment on, there was no talking. I explored every inch of him, touching and tasting, refamiliarizing myself with all his muscular magnificence. He returned the exploration in kind, making me shake and shudder and ache, until the delicious pressure had me so tightly wound, it felt as if I would surely shatter. Then he entered me, and everything did shatter, my orgasm so fierce I was little more than a leaf tossed on the tempest of a storm, lost to everything but the sheer power of the forces flowing through me. A few seconds later, he joined me in that joyous oblivion, his deep groan echoing through the shadows that still haunted the area beyond the bed.
For several seconds, neither of us moved. Then he pushed up on his elbows, holding his weight off my body as his gaze caught and held mine. While a multitude of emotions flitted through the glorious silver depths, it was fierce determination that gleamed the brightest. This man was not going to let me escape him, no matter what it took.
And while that made my heart dance, not even the might of the Myrkálfar could defeat death himself.
I opened my mouth to tell him and then closed it again. While the reluctance was based mainly on nothing more than the cowardly need not to spoil the perfection of this moment, Ireally did want to explore all the possible avenues of salvation before I admitted the inevitability of death to either him or my brother.
Besides, if I got the tracer as Darby demanded, surely them knowing the truth of my future held less importance?
No, it did not.Not when there were powerful emotions at play, his as much as mine.
I dropped my gaze from his, and he shifted to my side. “Would you like something to drink and eat while we talk?”
My eyebrows rose. “I thought you said there was no food or water in this place?”
“There isn’t, unless, of course, you bring it in with you. Which I did.”
“Then I will certainly partake in said food and drink.”
He rolled off the bed and disappeared briefly into the darkness. I pushed upright and tugged the velvet cloud of cushions behind my back to brace it. He reappeared a few seconds later, carrying a basket containing a bottle of red—Cuvée du Vatican Châteauneuf-du-Pape, which wasn’t the most expensive of wines but was still one of my favorites—two glasses, and a small platter of cheese, fruits, and crackers.
“The man comes prepared for seduction.”
“A good red never goes astray, be it for seduction purposes or simple enjoyment.”
“I was speaking more of the cheese and crackers. They are a weakness.”
He placed the basket beside me and then climbed onto the bed, crossing his legs and facing me. “I thought chocolate was your weakness.”
“No, chocolate is one of the five essential food groups.”
He laughed softly. After opening the bottle, he poured the wine, handed me a glass, then placed the bottle back intothe basket and raised his glass. “To a continuation of our relationship.”
“For as long as time and Fate give us.” I tapped my glass lightly against his and took a drink, tasting notes of black fruits, spices, and smooth tannins. The aroma—jam, cherries, and wood smoke—was also lovely. “Now, as I said before, shall I begin the conversation?”
“Please do.”
I took another drink, then jumped in feet first. “What do you know about the Eljin Lavigne pictured in the article Treasa sent me, and how is he related to our Eljin?”
A smile tugged at his lips, but his gaze became wary rather than warm. “I feel obliged not to answer that question, given we are courting the heart of the same woman.”
“Given one of you will never have my heart and the other can’t take it even if he wanted to, that’s not an acceptable reply.”
Something flared through the wariness. Something that was almost... victorious? Propriety? “That is an answer that leads me to hope that you and Eljin are no longer an item.”
“Let’s just say that he and I will no longer be spending any alone time together.”
While I tried to keep my voice even, anger must have seeped through, because his gaze narrowed dangerously. “Why? What has he done? Is he the reason your chin is scraped and bruised?”
