Nightwalker
Page 72
It was the knowledge that he wanted his life to go on. He wanted his life to go on, but only if hers were to be in tandem with it. He didn’t think he could bear life without her. It had been so cold before. So long and lifeless. So devoid of any passion. Now he had passion in spades. All because of her.
“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in all of my lifetimes,” he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper. But she heard him well enough. He could tell by the warmth of red that suffused her already pink cheeks.
“I want you too,” she said, and he knew it was meant to be more than want of just the moment. But of course she would want him. He was the first passion she had ever known. One day, when she was stronger, she might not want him any longer. She might want to move on and experience the variety life had to offer her.
The thought angered him. No! He wouldn’t allow her to want anything more than him. He would be everything she needed and more.
He jerked her hand free of his body, and with a punishing thrust he rammed himself into her. She gasped, her body barely having a moment to adapt to him before he was thrusting into her in earnest.
He rode her hard, forcing cries of passion out of her, forcing pleasure out of her. She was innocent of the mood that had fallen on him, yet he could not hold himself in check. The idea of her giving herself to anyone but him had him acting with fire and haste. He pinned her against the wall and wrested her first orgasm out of her.
“None but me,” he growled against her cheek as her cries deafened him in his ear. He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until she said, “None but you.”
This mollified him a little bit. He slowed, moved with a more aching passion. He needed her and he let her know it in the movements of his body connected to hers. She felt the difference and he saw tears shining in her eyes.
“Shh,” he soothed her, kissing her lips.
“You feel so good,” she whispered. “I don’t want this to end.”
“It’s just the beginning,” he promised her.
And he kept to his promise. He loved her long and sweet, hard and fast, shifting moods and speed as fast as lightning. When he had wrested her third or fourth orgasm from her—he’d lost count because they seemed to blend together—only then did he allow himself to come into her. He came so hard he could barely stand. She had drained him, taken every part of him.
They leaned there gasping for breath for a long minute, then he pushed them away from the wall and walked them to the bed. He laid her down and then pulled the covers over her.
“Come with me,” she implored, holding out her hand to him.
“I just did,” he teased her, amusement twitching at his lips.
“Come to bed,” she said, pulling back the covers in invitation.
“No. I can’t. I have to study this spell so I know it backward and forward. I need to be able to cast it quickly and accurately. One mistake can mean the difference between life and death. Success and failure. And I will not fail.”
“You need sleep as well. You can’t go into this unrested.”
He reached out and petted her hair. He gave her a small smile. “I won’t be sleeping today. But you should rest.”
“Without you?” she pouted.
“I’ll come back to you in a little while. I plan on making love to you again before the day is done.”
The announcement made her smile. But it was a sleepy smile. She was fading fast.
“Promise?” she said, laying her head down on the pillow.
“You have my word,” he said.
And later, after he had memorized the spell to the best of his ability, he kept his word. He came to her, woke her up, and made love to her slow and sweet, kissing every inch of her body he could find, licking her into delicious madness. He was completely unselfish, and so was she. She touched him, loved him, gave him everything she had. And when they came together this time, she cried.
She held on to him, and cried.
Chapter 23
Kat was fondling the necklace around her neck. She was lying in bed, naked, next to her Gargoyle lover and husband. Ahnvil had chosen not to sit out in the sun regenerating this day, wanting instead to spend it with her. He could do this for several days without it affecting him, but eventually being out of contact with his touchstone, the stone that regenerated his life force and strength, would drive him mad and could even end in permanent being…turning to stone once and for all with no hope of turning back into the flesh and blood man she loved. She poked her lover in the shoulder, waking him from his light slumber. None of them were sleeping well that day. Certainly not the Gargoyles who were sworn to protect their Bodywalkers with their lives. Jackson was Ahnvil’s Bodywalker and tomorrow, he knew, Jackson would be in the thick of the battle. That meant her husband would be right by his side, protecting him.
“What is it?” he asked, no trace of sleep in his heavy Scots burr.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Always a dangerous pastime.”
“Stop it. Will you be serious?”
“I think things are far too serious as it is,” he said grimly.
“True. But remember that passage you told me about regarding Adoma’s Amulet?” She held out the amulet that had started their adventure together and had led her to discover it was a powerful nik and she was a Djynn. All her life she had thought she was allergic to the sun, only to find out it was because she was a Nightwalker that she burned in sunlight. Once she had learned to turn to smoke, the way Djynns kept from burning in the sun, she had never had to worry about it again.
“I do. ‘The slave, born of the infinite Nightwalkers, will set free the power within. The one that harnesses Adoma’s Amulet will have such power as to make a god weep.’ ”
“Now see, it’s that last line that gets me. Maybe this is meant to be more than just a nik. Maybe there’s something about it—about me—that’s meant to go up against Apep. To make a god weep.”
Ahnvil sat up like a shot in bed and glared at her.
“There is no way I’m letting you get anywhere near that homicidal bastard!”
“Calm down!”
“Doona tell me to calm down! Listen to yourself! You are thinking about pitting yourself against a god!”
“Not pitting myself against him! But being somehow instrumental in weakening him so that Kamen can work his mojo.”
“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in all of my lifetimes,” he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper. But she heard him well enough. He could tell by the warmth of red that suffused her already pink cheeks.
“I want you too,” she said, and he knew it was meant to be more than want of just the moment. But of course she would want him. He was the first passion she had ever known. One day, when she was stronger, she might not want him any longer. She might want to move on and experience the variety life had to offer her.
The thought angered him. No! He wouldn’t allow her to want anything more than him. He would be everything she needed and more.
He jerked her hand free of his body, and with a punishing thrust he rammed himself into her. She gasped, her body barely having a moment to adapt to him before he was thrusting into her in earnest.
He rode her hard, forcing cries of passion out of her, forcing pleasure out of her. She was innocent of the mood that had fallen on him, yet he could not hold himself in check. The idea of her giving herself to anyone but him had him acting with fire and haste. He pinned her against the wall and wrested her first orgasm out of her.
“None but me,” he growled against her cheek as her cries deafened him in his ear. He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until she said, “None but you.”
This mollified him a little bit. He slowed, moved with a more aching passion. He needed her and he let her know it in the movements of his body connected to hers. She felt the difference and he saw tears shining in her eyes.
“Shh,” he soothed her, kissing her lips.
“You feel so good,” she whispered. “I don’t want this to end.”
“It’s just the beginning,” he promised her.
And he kept to his promise. He loved her long and sweet, hard and fast, shifting moods and speed as fast as lightning. When he had wrested her third or fourth orgasm from her—he’d lost count because they seemed to blend together—only then did he allow himself to come into her. He came so hard he could barely stand. She had drained him, taken every part of him.
They leaned there gasping for breath for a long minute, then he pushed them away from the wall and walked them to the bed. He laid her down and then pulled the covers over her.
“Come with me,” she implored, holding out her hand to him.
“I just did,” he teased her, amusement twitching at his lips.
“Come to bed,” she said, pulling back the covers in invitation.
“No. I can’t. I have to study this spell so I know it backward and forward. I need to be able to cast it quickly and accurately. One mistake can mean the difference between life and death. Success and failure. And I will not fail.”
“You need sleep as well. You can’t go into this unrested.”
He reached out and petted her hair. He gave her a small smile. “I won’t be sleeping today. But you should rest.”
“Without you?” she pouted.
“I’ll come back to you in a little while. I plan on making love to you again before the day is done.”
The announcement made her smile. But it was a sleepy smile. She was fading fast.
“Promise?” she said, laying her head down on the pillow.
“You have my word,” he said.
And later, after he had memorized the spell to the best of his ability, he kept his word. He came to her, woke her up, and made love to her slow and sweet, kissing every inch of her body he could find, licking her into delicious madness. He was completely unselfish, and so was she. She touched him, loved him, gave him everything she had. And when they came together this time, she cried.
She held on to him, and cried.
Chapter 23
Kat was fondling the necklace around her neck. She was lying in bed, naked, next to her Gargoyle lover and husband. Ahnvil had chosen not to sit out in the sun regenerating this day, wanting instead to spend it with her. He could do this for several days without it affecting him, but eventually being out of contact with his touchstone, the stone that regenerated his life force and strength, would drive him mad and could even end in permanent being…turning to stone once and for all with no hope of turning back into the flesh and blood man she loved. She poked her lover in the shoulder, waking him from his light slumber. None of them were sleeping well that day. Certainly not the Gargoyles who were sworn to protect their Bodywalkers with their lives. Jackson was Ahnvil’s Bodywalker and tomorrow, he knew, Jackson would be in the thick of the battle. That meant her husband would be right by his side, protecting him.
“What is it?” he asked, no trace of sleep in his heavy Scots burr.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Always a dangerous pastime.”
“Stop it. Will you be serious?”
“I think things are far too serious as it is,” he said grimly.
“True. But remember that passage you told me about regarding Adoma’s Amulet?” She held out the amulet that had started their adventure together and had led her to discover it was a powerful nik and she was a Djynn. All her life she had thought she was allergic to the sun, only to find out it was because she was a Nightwalker that she burned in sunlight. Once she had learned to turn to smoke, the way Djynns kept from burning in the sun, she had never had to worry about it again.
“I do. ‘The slave, born of the infinite Nightwalkers, will set free the power within. The one that harnesses Adoma’s Amulet will have such power as to make a god weep.’ ”
“Now see, it’s that last line that gets me. Maybe this is meant to be more than just a nik. Maybe there’s something about it—about me—that’s meant to go up against Apep. To make a god weep.”
Ahnvil sat up like a shot in bed and glared at her.
“There is no way I’m letting you get anywhere near that homicidal bastard!”
“Calm down!”
“Doona tell me to calm down! Listen to yourself! You are thinking about pitting yourself against a god!”
“Not pitting myself against him! But being somehow instrumental in weakening him so that Kamen can work his mojo.”
