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“Wow. Just wow.” Her look of wonder gave way to teasing. “And you are a white knight, after all.”
“Oh, no, I’m not. We Original Lokians take ‘the end justifies the means’ to very dark-gray realms.”
She grinned at him. “Sounds like my kind of guys.”
He swung her around, flattened her beneath him, loomed over her menacingly. “Guy. Singular.”
“You are that.” She wound herself around him, seeking his invasion. “And you are that to me. Now fill me. Singularly.”
He slid inside her, bottomed out on that single thrust she demanded, swallowed her cry of welcoming shock, shouted with exultation as her flesh enfolded him like it was made to fit him.
This woman. This flesh. This union. This was what he’d waited an eternity for. A good thing he hadn’t known, though, or he would have gone insane while waiting.
But now that he’d found her, he wouldn’t lose her again.
And if reason insisted he would, one day, to mortality, he silenced it.
For now.
Chapter Seven
Vidar watched Kara saunter into her loft. He’d entered through the window as usual, observing the secrecy of their relationship. For the past six weeks, it had worked perfectly.
They did.
They synchronized their working hours, sharing every minute between. When she had a long shift, he arrived before her to pamper her when she came home. He had her favorite lasagna waiting for her tonight.
“Mmm.” She inhaled as she approached him with a smile that made his very being tighten. Sensual and wicked, delighted and delighting. “Now what do I devour first?”
He bent to take her lips. “Food will get cold. I won’t.”
“Let’s eat fast, then, since you get hotter.”
He chuckled, swept her off her feet and took her to the table. He sat her down, served her.
She looked up as he started massaging her stiff shoulders. “Won’t you join me?”
“I snacked on endless rubbish while on stakeout with Daven.”
She grinned. “Good thing you have this nuclear metabolism, or Daven and his atrocious eating habits would get you fat over a weekend.”
She turned her attention to her meal, dug in appreciatively, hungrily, and started telling him about her day. He told her about his, marveling yet again at how she discussed his battles as naturally as she did her cases. She wiped her plate and rushed to shower.
He watched her streak away, sighed his pleasure. She was more magnificent than any goddess. Addictive passion on two gorgeous, endless legs, between which he’d found a heaven far better than any mortal had dreamed or god had promised.
He’d never truly lived before she’d wanted him.
And he now understood what Alvar had gone through. Wondered how he’d recovered. If you could call being a morose, unstable son of a bitch “recovered.” But Alvar had survived.
He wouldn’t survive losing Kara.
He had to make her immortal.
But to become so, she had to be not only Gifted but one of a rare minority. Even if she was all that, not many had been able to withstand the reality of living indefinitely. He himself, before he’d met her, had been ready to end it all. And he didn’t even feel a Gift in her.
But he was working with the conviction that her effect on him eclipsed his Gift-detecting ability, that a part of what had attracted him to her initially, and her to him, had been her Gift. Why else had she been there? She’d admitted she hadn’t known why she’d entered the nightclub, had no idea why they’d let her in. He was betting it was something she didn’t realize she had, pulling her to him, swaying those bouncers.
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