The crushing weight pressed on my heart until I couldn’t tell if saying the words would release me from the unbearable pressure or kill me.
Still, the words couldn’t make their way past the blockade of thick, binding emotion.
“I love you, Vivien,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. “I will never let you go.”
My body broke with a sudden violence that sent shockwaves pulsating and rolling through my body with an all-consuming force. Grim’s face screwed up, helpless against the sensation as my muscles clamped down on his hard length.
I needed this, all of him inside me, and I needed to feel connected to Grim in every possible way. My fangs elongated, and I sunk them into that perfect space between his shoulder and collarbone. Grim’s blood hit my tongue. I went flying through the universe as I spasmed, while he continued to pound into me, prolonging my pleasure.
Eventually, maybe after a couple minutes or years, my body calmed and I came back to earth. Then a second orgasm, more intense than the first, crashed into me. I convulsed under its unrelenting power, incoherent and drowning in Grim and our connection.
His fingers dug into my hips with bruising pressure as he succumbed to his release with me. It rolled through the room, a physical force, like a thunderclap. The silent pulse slammed into the marrow of my bones. He cried out, face fierce with desperation as he shot into me.
Blinking a couple times, I found myself lying back on the desk, legs still curled up around his hips. I’d never drunk from him during sex before, but it had done the trick, calming the quaking fear at my core.
Grim lay across my chest, but was still standing at the end of the desk. I felt him soften inside me. I intentionally clenched my muscles around him and he jerked.
“Brat,” he mumbled into my body.
And just like that, our argument from earlier tonight evaporated. I knew it wasn’t over. I knew he still waited, wanting more from me. But right now, in this moment, what we had was enough.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” I asked. His face rested on the spikes surrounding the bosom of my dress.
Lifting his head, he gave me a view of the little indents around his cheek. “I think I can survive a couple of your spikes,” he said.
Right. He’d just walked away from a car bomb. A shiver went through me.
“The couch,” I directed.
Grim understood, scooped my ass into his hands, picking me up. Still inside me, he dropped on the oversized couch. The soft leather of the brown, tufted chesterfield caressed my bare legs as I clung to his neck, now sitting on top of him. He didn’t give any sign he’d let go of me, either.
I stopped to take a moment, pulling my dress over my head. The cool air of the room slapped my naked body, so I pressed myself against his muscular chest. The comforting heat of his skin reassured me in a primal way. Though my blood ran hot from the sex and drinking from a god, Grim grabbed one of the faux fur throws and wrapped it around my body.
“Better?” he asked, stroking my hair as I snuggled into him.
I nodded into his neck. “Yes,” I whispered.
“I told you,” he said gently. “I can’t die.”
“Unless I drink too much of your blood and decide to kill you with crazy power.”
“Do you plan on sucking me dry and murdering me any time soon? I have some arrangements I’d like to make,” he joked.
“Unless someone chops your head off with a sword that can kill gods.”
“We’ll find it before that happens,” he reassured me.
“Two ways for you to die is too many,” I said, pulling back to look him in his face. My fingers played with dark hair at the base of his neck.
“Two…” he started, then drifted off as if there was more to tell.
Alarm raced through me in hot flashes. He was going to tell me something bad. Something I didn’t want to hear. I felt so very fragile, like I could fall to pieces in his arms. For once, I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t handle it.
Grim seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say and tightened his arms around me. “You are the one who could have been hurt. If you hadn’t forgotten your coat.”
It was true. While I was immortal, fire, beheading, or having my heart ripped out could still end me.
“Why would someone try to blow up your car? A human enemy?” I asked, fury snaking through me. “Someone who wouldn’t know you’d live through it?”
