He flinched.
“Don’t.” His head dropped as he said it. Pressing his face into the curve of my neck, he said it again. “Mandy…don’t.”
“I’ve died inside a little more every day since you left us.” My voice broke. “Left me. The only thing that kept me going was this…knowing I might have a chance to find you. Bring you home.”
Something wet touched my neck.
I clung to him as his body tightened. He’d pull away. I knew it. Even now. He’d pull away. “Don’t you get it?” I turned my face into his hair, desperate now. I jerked against his hold and he let my hands go. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I stopped trying to fight the tears and I stopped trying to fight the pain. If he was going to do this to me—to us—then damn it, he needed to understand what he truly was doing. “Don’t you get it? If I leave here, I’m already dead. What little piece of me that still lives? It’s going to die.”
His hand touched my side.
I tensed.
He touched me so rarely. The past few years, physical touch had become so infrequent, I barely recognized even the lightest contact as anything but a threat, because that was when I was being touched—in the middle of battle, during an attack. Or on the rare occasion I had to train.
The feel of his hand, first just the barest glance of his fingertips, then slowly his palm flattening out had me falling silent.
“Please.” His breath escaped him in a quick, hard burst. “Please, just stop.”
“Why?” Working my hands between us, I shoved him back and glared. “Is it too hard for you to hear what you’re doing to me? It’s okay for you to suffer but you don’t want to hear what you’re doing to me?”
His lashes fell down, hiding his gaze.
I felt another breath stutter out of him and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.
“The truth hurts,” I said softly.
His hands framed my face. Hard, calloused, scarred…dirty now. The face above me was dirty as well, streaked with dust and grime, but he was beautiful to me. I didn’t care about the grit or the fact that I could still smell my blood on him.
“If you stay, you die.” The words were stark and simple.
I knew he spoke the truth. I shrugged. “I die anyway. Here, at least, I die with you.”
He shoved his fingers into my hair, twisted them until pain wasn’t just a threat, but a promise. “I’m not talking death of soul or heart, love. I’m talking true death. I…” He looked away. “I wasn’t completely honest earlier. My time is coming to an end and this time, I won’t come back. I feel it in my bones. But you…”
“I never wanted to live for millennia, Will.” I closed the distance between us and kissed him. “I’d choose a short, fast life with you over a long, empty one. Get that through your ancient skull…and then let’s take a few minutes for ourselves. While we can.”
The brush of her mouth on his whispered of salvation and damnation.
The screams that had risen steadily in the back of his head went silent and he was tempted, so tempted. He could have a few minutes. Why not a few minutes out of a lifetime?
Because suffering is the debt you owe…
The voice in the back of his head was sly and taunting.
He groaned and went to pull away.
But Mandy came with him.
“No.” She sank her teeth into his lower lip when he went to break the kiss. “Stay…please, Will. Stay.”
“Mandy…” A sigh shuddered out of him as he sat up, dragging her upright when she wouldn’t let him go. Gripping her hips, he stared into her dark, angry eyes. “I…”
She covered his mouth with one fingertip.
“Don’t tell me you can’t do this, because you’re wrong. You can.”
He caught her wrist, staring at her silently.
She cocked her head to the side. “Unless you’re a weird sort of eunuch, you’re most definitely capable and…” Her head fell back, a hungry little noise escaping her throat as she rocked her hips forward. “You’re certainly not going to fool me if you say you’re not interested.”
He had to fight the urge to flip her onto her back, then and there. She was hot. Through her dark cargo pants, he could feel the warm, wet heat of her, just waiting for him.
Interested didn’t touch what he was feeling.
He might be interested in killing a few demons or finding a way to end his miserable existence. He couldn’t describe what he felt for Mandy as interest. Interest was a pale, weak word.
All words were pale and weak compared to what he had inside him when it came to this one woman.
Fisting a hand in her hair, he dragged her close and stared into her eyes for a taut moment. “Perhaps can’t isn’t the right word,” he admitted. “But we aren’t.”
He rose and carefully put her down.
She stripped off her shirt—the tight, closely knit garment that was sturdy enough to double as light armor, his own design. She threw it at him and he made the mistake of catching it reflexively before it hit him in the face. If he’d let it hit him, then he would have had something to block his view.
As it was, he lowered his hand, nothing shielding her naked torso save for the bra she wore. It was utilitarian and plain, black, like her top and pants, and it highlighted the strength of her, the beauty.
Will closed his eyes.
He had no trouble, though, placing the next set of sounds.
The item that hit him next was the bra.
The solid thuds that fell on either side of him, her shoes.
She threw her pants just as she had thrown her top—striking him right in the head.
He let the shirt fall on top of the pants and opened his eyes just as she slid her panties down.
When she threw them, he snatched them out of the air and crumpled the flimsy bit of plain cotton in his fist.
She’d taken off her socks at some point and stood naked before him on the uneven ground. Faint smudges of blood marred her torso from where the demon had torn into her. Was it dead? Will couldn’t remember. He was almost certain Rob had already killed it, but he wanted to go back, find it—find them and kill them all.
The brush of her footsteps had him clenching her panties tighter in his fist. She was too close. Far too close. He backed away, only to find that he’d backed himself right up against the wall. She smiled, a seductive curl of her lips as she braced her hands on the cave wall on either side of him. “You’re out of room, Will.”
“That’s not my name, though, is it?” he said, flinging the truth at her.
She shrugged. “Will is the name of the man I know.” She leaned in, then, brushing a kiss across his lips. “You need to decide what you’re going to do…keep pushing me away, or just stop fighting me. It would be better to just stop fighting. For once in your life, just stop fighting, Will.”
She brushed another soft kiss over his lips.
Then another.
Then she slid lower, planting the next one on his jawbone.
Then his neck.
He gripped her hips, staring at the ceiling of the cave, at the map of crevices he and Rob had created.
Heat flared, built inside him. He tried to shut it down, tried to ignore it. He’d schooled his body to ignore everything. For so long, he’d ignored everything that wasn’t duty. It was beyond second nature now—it was simply his nature.
But her mouth called to him.
Every brush of her lips seemed to waken the sleeping longing within him and Will felt himself crumbling.
“What are you going to do, Will?”
She was taunting him now, as she slid to her knees and shot him a sly look. Her hands hooked into the front of his pants, the jeans she’d bought him long ago, the clothing that would soon give way to rags. Her fingers tripped along the waistband and he closed his eyes, fought to regulate his breathing when she tugged the button free, then dragged the zipper down.
“Will…?”
His control snapped.
Shattered.
Jerking her upright, he turned and shoved her against the wall. His mouth slammed down on hers. She gasped and he swallowed the sound down. Her tongue rubbed against his and he caught it, bit then sucked on it, listened as she shuddered and moaned.
The hunger inside him was a demon, one trapped far too long. He’d been able to ignore it for much of his long life. It was just passion and passion could be channeled. But then she’d come.
And fighting demons couldn’t replace the need he’d felt for her, almost from the beginning.
Killing demons didn’t undo the want.
No amount of blood he’d drowned himself in could undo the need he’d had to drown himself in her.
She moaned when he tangled his hand in her hair.
“You’re damning us both.” It was a warning, to her. To himself. He knew better than this. But he was past the point of caring.
Obviously, so was she.
“I don’t care.” She tugged his mouth to hers.
He let her panties fall from his fisted hand before reaching between them, touching her. Some of the desperate, furious passion fell away as he encountered wet, silken heat.
She hissed as he touched her hesitantly, uncertain now.
Slick…soft.
Lifting his head, he watched her.
“What…” She whimpered and canted her hips up. “What are you waiting for?”
He frowned and then said softly, “Instruction. Inspiration.”
That had her eyes widening. “What?”
He just shook his head and looked down, staring at the dark curls that shielded her from him.
Sex was not truly a mystery to him. How could it be? He’d lived multiple lives and this last incarnation was well over two thousand years old. But there were mysteries…and there were mysteries.
As he slid the tip of one finger inside her, Mandy’s mouth fell open. She’d been trying to speak and the words wavered, then fell away.
He liked that, the way her voice cracked and her eyes went blind.
So he did it again, circling her entrance with his fingertip, then pushing inside.
Her nails bit into his biceps, head bowing. Dark hair streamed down over her shoulders and her breasts. He stared at her, hard and focused, painting a mental picture inside his head. For as long or as short as his life was, then as long as eternity stretched out after that, he wanted to remember this, how her breasts strained, the pink of her nipples peeking through her hair, her hips rolling as she rocked back and forth on his hand.
He could feel the gathering tension in her, felt it in the air as well. Intellectually, Will understood what was happening.
But when she suddenly tensed and cried out, when she started to shudder and shake, he froze.
“No, please…” she sobbed.
“Mandy?”
She gripped his wrist and worked herself against his hand, the noises in her throat akin to pain.
Then he began to understand.
Because that was a pain he felt.
The pain for her, the need.
Slowly, he rotated his wrist. Stroked his thumb across the hard knot just above her entrance.
She bucked again and he felt it start all over.
Climax. She’s climaxing…
“Come with me,” she demanded, pulling his mouth to hers even as her other hand slid between them and cupped him, stroking him.
It was a shock, the feel of her hand on him.
It was a pleasure so stark and brutal, he thought he might do just as she asked—right then and there, in her hand.
Teeth gritted, he boosted her up.
“Mandy, I don’t know…”
She brushed her lips against him.
“Kiss me,” she ordered.
That much, he could do.
He brushed a soft kiss against her mouth as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock.
“Watch.” She eased back then, bracing her shoulders against the stone at her back. “Watch…”
It was staggering in its intimacy, another thing he’d imprint on his mind, another thing he’d remember through eternity. One hand braced on the wall near her head; he kept the other under her hips. She took him inside, slowly, and Will fought to keep the shout locked inside as the silken wet embrace wrapped around his cock, inch by slow inch.
“Make love to me,” she said after he’d filled her—after she’d taken him. Arms gripping him so tightly, she stared into his eyes. “Make love to me, Will.”
He withdrew, eyes half-closed, savoring the sensation. He heard a weak, dazed whimper squeeze its way out of her tight throat and then another one as he surged back inside her. Again…again…
She was panting his name, then keening it, her nails raking paths down his arms.
He stole the air from her lungs with a demanding kiss when he felt the orgasm coming on her.
His own slammed into him too soon, too fast.
But she came, too, as he flung headfirst into it, his cock feeling like it had gone supernova.
She was right, he admitted with defeat.
Two thousand years wouldn’t be enough, not if they were together.
But they couldn’t be.
At some point, he’d sagged to the ground, bent over her. She wrapped around him, arms and legs clinging to him, her breasts flat to his chest, her breath teasing his neck.
She was right.
But then again, so was he.
This, them…they were never meant to be.
Chapter Twelve
There were those who could calmly walk back in, knowing what had taken place, and not bat an eyelash.
Then there were those like Rob.
He looked at Will, looked at me and grinned.
“Please tell me you kissed and made up.” Then he paused, brows going up. “Or shagged and made up.”
Will gave him a single, silent look.
Rob rolled his eyes. “Don’t be giving me the devil look, mate. You can’t kill me now anyway. We’ve problems incoming. Problems to the tune of two thousand or so.” His lips twisted in a snarl. “It’s like we’ve an antenna on our ass and we’re sending out fresh meat signals to every demon on the plain.”
“You might as well,” Will said coolly.
He stood at the mouth of the cave, back to me.
He hadn’t looked at me in nearly ten minutes.
I’d already decided I wasn’t going to let it get to me. He was still under the delusion he could send me back. He was wrong. He’d have to kill me or hurt me. He might not be opposed to hurting me but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t kill—
“Rob, you two get out of here while you can,” Will said softly.
I snarled under my breath and grabbed a rock from the ground, hurling it at the back of his head.
He spun, moving in a graceful blur.
In seconds, he had me pinned up against the wall. I bared my teeth at him. “We going to go again, sweetheart? Ask Rob to wait outside at least. We can hang one of the necklaces on the door of the cave…oh, wait. No door.”
“I won’t have you dying for me!”
“It’s not for you!” I jerked against his hold, but it was useless. I might be a Grimm, but he had centuries on me. I couldn’t hold my own against him in a hundred years—or thousands of years, as it were. Instead of trying to fight with strength, I went with my heart. I grabbed his face. Dragging him closer, I stared into his dark eyes. “It’s with you. I don’t want to die, Will, but I’m going to…it will happen, and it’s probably going to be soon. At least give me the courtesy of letting me choose.”
His hands slackened, just the slightest.
“I’ve fought enough.” I moved in, wrapped my arms around his neck.
He hugged me back, then stroked a hand down my hair. “Mandy…” The ice in his voice, for once, was gone. “I don’t want this for you.”
“But it’s not about you.”
“Don’t be foolish, child.”
; I jumped at the unfamiliar voice. Will stiffened.
When I would have pulled away, though, he simply held me protectively again him. We turned, facing a being I knew…vaguely.
When I saw the creature with bronzed wings, I sucked in a breath.
Then instinct kicked in and I went to lunge.
Will was faster though.
He was the reason why I didn’t go after the bronze-winged angel with a blade in hand.
He glanced at me, that scary-ass creature with eyes that had never been human, that had never known humanity.
“I want to hurt you,” I said in a voice I didn’t even recognize as my own.
“I can see that.” The idea seemed to amuse him.
Will caught me in a bear hug, trapping my arms at my sides, taking the kicks I aimed at his legs in an attempt to break free. Nothing I did moved him or weakened his grasp.
The bronze one came closer and when I jerked both legs upward in an attempt to double-kick, Will simply backed up two paces.
And the other angel laughed.
Feeling foolish, feeling defeated, I went limp in Will’s arms and glared at the angel through my tangled hair. “Get out of here,” I demanded.
“But I can’t.” He glanced back. As if in response, there was a rise in the wails of the demons. He narrowed his eyes and their pained cries went sharper, more acute.
What was he…?
“I can’t.” He shrugged. “Not yet.”
His head swung back around and he focused on us. “It’s not about you,” he said, quoting me and even nailing the very sound of my voice. He could have been a woman in her mid-twenties from Middle of Nowhere, Ohio. The woman I’d been before Greta and Rip had found me all of those years ago.
He said those words again, staring at Will as his eyes spun and ebbed from gold to the dark brown of my own. “But Cain, really. Isn’t it always about you?”
Behind me, Will went stiff and rigid.
Will.
Cain.
“Stay out of this.” I twisted against Will’s hold. “It doesn’t concern you!”
“But it does.” Now he looked at me, the bronzed gold of his eyes bleeding through. “You see, it concerns…Will. And as such, it concerns me.”
He flicked a hand and as quick as that, I was free. Not because Will had voluntarily released me though. I could feel the rigidity of his arms as they were wrenched away. I stumbled before I caught my balance and then moved, placing myself at Will’s side.
Grimm's End: Grimm's Circle, Book 9 Page 11