Everlasting (The Immortals #6)(86)

I lift my face to his, capture his lips, and pul him back to me. My body heating, thrumming, wanting nothing more than to deepen this feeling—discover just how far it might go.

“Ever.” His voice is thick, hoarse, the words requiring great effort, when he adds, “Ever, not here. Not like this.”

I blink. Rub my lips together, as though awakening from a dream. Realizing we’re stil on the floor, when there are far more comfortable places we could be, including one that I manifested just before I came here.

I rise to my feet, and lead him downstairs, out to my car, and onto the curving, winding expanse of Coast Highway, until I pul up to the most beautiful, old, weathered stone manse perched up high on a cliff, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look down upon a swiftly churning sea—a dwel ing that wasn’t there just an hour before.

“Did you make this?” He turns to me.

I nod, grinning. “What can I say? I was hoping we’d come to an agreement. I was going to book us that room at the Montage, but I thought this was better, more private, more romantic. I hope it’s okay?”

He grasps my hand in his and we both hurry toward it. Scaling a long, winding, seemingly neverending series of stairs until we reach the top, breathless for sure, but more with anticipation than the climb.

I swing the door open and motion him inside, seeing the way he laughs when he steps onto the old limestone floor and sees that despite the size of this place, despite its massive square footage, it only consists of one very large bedroom with a woodburning fireplace, a beautiful four-poster bed, a gorgeous old woven rug, a wel -appointed bathroom, and nothing more.

I flush. I can’t help it. Quickly mumbling something about having not had much time, how we can always add to it if we decide to hang out for a while.

But he just smiles, stops the flow of excuses with a gently pressed finger he soon replaces with his lips, turning my suddenly hushed silence into a nice, long, deeply soulful kiss. Pul ing me toward him, toward the bed, voice softly whispering, “You are al that I want. Al that I need. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He kisses me gently but thoroughly, taking his time, making a great effort to handle me with care. But even though I know our time together is infinite, that we’l always be together, I’m eager for more. I tug at the hem of his sweater, yank it up high over his head and toss it aside. Pausing to explore the landscape of his chest—the curving hil s of his shoulders, the rippled val ey of his abs—before my fingers dip lower, working a button, a zipper, an elastic waistband.

And even though it’s not the first time I’ve seen him, I stil can’t stop the gasp from escaping my throat. Stil can’t stop myself from drinking in the astonishing sight of him.

He removes my clothes too. Fingers moving deftly, expertly, far more practiced than mine. And it’s not long before there’s nothing left between us— neither physical, nor mystical.

There is only he and I.

No barriers of any kind.

He anchors his leg over me, around me, until his body covers mine. My insides quivering with tingle and heat as I shutter my eyes to the warmth of him, the feel of him, then lazily lifting my lids to find his gaze burning into me. The two of us pul ed into the hypnotic lul and sway of each other, and it’s not long before he reaches down and joins us together. before he reaches down and joins us together. Joins us in the way of Alrik and Adelina.

Joins us in the way we’ve dreamed of al this time.

But it’s so much better than anything that went before.

Because this is real.

This is right.

A final confirmation that we’re made for each other.

Meant to be together.

Always and forever.

Our bodies rising, lifting, soaring high, then higher stil—the moment growing, expanding, holding for as long as it wil… until we col apse into the warmth of each other, and the ceiling bursts open, and a deluge of beautiful red tulips comes raining down.





chapter forty-four


I rol onto my side, edge closer to him, al owing my fingers to fol ow the trail from his chest to his abdomen and down lower stil . Amazed by the actual feel of him, his warm and wonderful being—

wondering how I managed without it so long.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his lips nipping the lobe of my ear.

“Oh, you know…” I smile flirtatiously, my pinkie inching back up, finding his navel and navigating the perimeter, as he laughs and pul s me onto his chest. Planting a kiss on the top of my head as my mind fil s with one single word: Content.

I am total y and completely content.

I’m also happy, relaxed, and at peace.

I have everything I could ever want.

My life is complete.

I gaze up at him, wishing we could linger, drag this out for as long as we can, but Damen has other plans, claims we’ve got somewhere important to be.

“I’l miss this place,” he says, getting to his feet and stepping over the carpet of tulip petals that kept raining down until they covered the floor.

“Don’t sound so final. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

I

smile.

“Unless,

we’re

going

somewhere? Are we going somewhere?” I peer at him, hoping for a clue. But he’s wearing his very best poker face, which means there is no getting through. I shrug, slip into the dress I was smart enough to manifest earlier, since it’s not like I’m wil ing to wear that winged costume again.