Immortal Need (18 page)

“You can’t do this,” Valerie urged. Was nobody listening to her? Didn’t they understand what was at stake? She couldn’t take it if Lei wasn’t hers. She couldn’t.

“I can, and you will let me,” he grumbled, stepping right up to her body. When she moved to step back, he palmed her face, holding her in place. She had to stop him, make him understand.

“Don’t let Freya win,” he whispered, head lowering. “Give us a chance. You’ve fought so hard. Let me carry you for a while.”

His warm breath caressed her cheeks, his hands like brands against her skin, and then he pressed his lips to hers, and she stopped thinking at all about the reasons they shouldn’t do this.

He tasted like her salvation, like hot male and silk sheets. He tasted better than she could have ever imagined. His lips slid across hers softly for a moment before he opened his mouth, tilted his head, and exhaled as he deepened the kiss. She’d never thought of air as sexy. But Lei’s breath was. It was hot against her tongue as it swirled down her throat and filled her lungs. She was breathing Lei. As her eyes closed, she could smell the musky vanilla of his hair. This was Lei. Her Lei. For better or for worse. She couldn’t stop it now. Her hungry cells had been craving his touch.

For so long they’d edged closer and closer to the boundary of touching each other, but not quite crossed it, as if some unknown rule had gone unspoken between them. As if they both had known that to touch was to invite the hailstorm of their desire to catch fire. The world stopped, and the overheating disappeared, until there was only Lei. All of her senses were alive for him only. She gripped the front of his shirt, bunching the material into her fists. His rock-hard chest was just under her hands. So close. So very close. A tingle slithered down her spine as her body went soft and pliant against his. His hands left her face, and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her tighter to him. He still wore his weapons, and the promise of the violence she knew he had in him excited her. He was a warrior, not a man to idly stand by. How had she ever thought he wouldn’t take matters into his own hands?

He backed her up, and she went blindly. Wherever he led, she would follow. The backs of her legs pressed into the couch, and he pushed her to sit down, kneeling between her legs. He kept kissing her as he directed her hands to his guns. She ran her fingers over the cold steel. They were extensions of Lei. He never let anyone touch his weapons. He would spend hours painstakingly cleaning each one, taking them apart and putting them back together, and then reloading them. The action of letting her touch them was not lost on her. With unsteady fingers, she pushed his shoulder harness off him and lowered the guns to the floor. She went to his hips next, knowing he had two more there. She unclipped the holster even as his tongue, wet and warm, slid over hers. Two more guns hit the ground with a thud. She gripped his waist, pulling him closer. He tasted so good, so very good to a starving heart.

“Don’t stop,” he broke the kiss long enough to say. He directed her hands down farther. The backs of her knuckles brushed along the hard evidence of his arousal, and his mouth crashed back into hers, their teeth nearly colliding. She unclipped first his right and then his left holster, removing the last of his guns.

His hands were busy too. Warm and calloused, he rubbed his way down her sides to the bottom of her shirt. He lifted the material, pushing it when it met where his chest and hers were touching. His fingertips grazed the tops of her breasts, which weren’t hidden by her practical sports bra. When in battle, she never went for the lacy. She would have too much trouble not feeling discomfort. He smiled against her lips, and, somehow, she thought he knew why she did it.

“I have to see,” he said, sitting back. He lifted her shirt over her head and gripped the sports bra with rough hands. He jerked his hands apart, and the fabric ripped, her breasts spilling out. Her nipples hardened to painful points as his gaze raked over her. “So beautiful,” he moaned.

She gripped the bottom of his shirt, lifting it, and he let go of her long enough to help her take his shirt off. Once again she was bombarded with pleasure as his rippled body was exposed. His pectoral muscles flexed as he shifted, his abdominal muscles ripped enough for her to wash on. A large X spanned under his right arm down to his waist. Valerie leaned forward and kissed it. In life, Lei had never been a good man. He’d been a thief, stealing anything he could get his hands on. One day, in the dark time when he’d first come to Freya, he’d told Valerie what he’d done. He had stolen gold blessed for Baldur and buried it in the ground under his tent. He’d joined the army only to take the spoils he could get. When fellow soldiers began falling in a war they were prophesized to win, Adam, the general, was told there was sin in their ranks. Lei was found and put to death. Upon his death, Odin, still saddened over Baldur’s death, didn’t want to give Lei peace and gave him to Freya to become a Watcher. Lei was ordered to kill warriors who stole holy relics, the same priceless treasures that Lei would have stolen if given the chance. But he’d kept his joviality, even as Freya had stripped him of his soul. He was also the only Watcher she had killed the same way her son was, by mistletoe to the heart. She allowed the poison of it to spread through Lei’s body until he was crazed.

Valerie never wanted him to know such pain again. She wanted him to know only pleasure, only happiness at her hands. She licked her way over the scar as Lei’s hands clenched in her hair, holding her to his body. She wondered what he looked like in this moment. Would his head be thrown back, his neck tense, his blond hair falling back, and his green eyes closed? Would his teeth be clenched, jaw working? She sat back slowly, catching him in the exact position that she had imagined. He was so very sexy, inside and out. She looked him over as he lowered his head. His nipples bore two small gold hoops. Gold. Always gold. The man had an infatuation with it. It’s what had gotten him in trouble with Freya and Odin. She shook her head, smiling, and continued to gaze down his body. The tip of his cock stretched past his jeans, a pearl bead of liquid resting at the opening. She licked her lips, not sure what she wanted to taste next. Lei made the decision for her. He grabbed her by the waist and forced her to stand up. He kissed her stomach as he unbuckled her pants. Slowly he lowered her pants and helped her step out of them after removing her shoes. He sat her back on the couch, his eyes ablaze, and spread her legs.

“Been wanting to do this for so long,” he whispered and lowered his head. She screamed, eyes sliding closed, as his mouth touched her core. He was ravenous. He didn’t let her catch her breath. Each slide of his tongue against her pushed her higher. Each nip of his teeth sent pleasure streaking through her. He sucked her, bit at her skin, and held her thighs in a viselike grip. She arched on the couch, twisting with pleasure, but he wouldn’t let her get away.

“Lei,” she moaned, uncaring if Sevani or Alexander hadn’t flashed from the house yet, about Freya, or the danger. All she could focus on was the heat of his mouth. He shifted against her, and then the heat of his legs caressed hers. He removed the rest of his clothing. She forced herself on her elbows, and her eyes opened. When she peered down, the sight made her catch her breath. Lei lapped at her, his face shining with her essence, his eyes clenched tight, his hand holding on to her thigh, while the other fisted the thick head of his cock. It leaked steadily, the bulbous head shining. She groaned, grasping his hair. She pulled hard, lifting him over her body.

“Now, now. I don’t want to wait,” she urged, and then froze. This was the moment of truth. If he wasn’t meant to bond with her, then he would be her servant the moment he entered her. “Wait. Let me think about this,” she said suddenly, fear leaking into her pleasure.

“No,” he said. “Now.
I
can’t wait. Mine,” he roared and slammed into her. Her world froze. Power suffused her, snaking up from her stomach and out through her extremities. Lei growled, pushing harder. Each dig of his cock tore through her, pleasure bowing her back as lightning ran rampant through her bloodstream. He repeated “mine” with each advance and moaned with each retreat. She held on as wind buffeted them, produced by her power. She couldn’t hold on to it. The lights flickered, the pictures on the wall rattled, and the house groaned. His possession was like nothing she had ever known. The tender tissues of her inner walls sparked with nerve endings that didn’t seem to know when the pleasure would stop. She gripped him tight, milking his cock for all it was worth. His fingers curled in her hair, forcing her to look at him. She tried to force her eyes open wider, but all she could achieve was a lazy half-mast width. His gaze bore into hers, his teeth clenched, lips pulled back, as he stroked. Her nails scored down his back.

“Yes, faster,” she yelled, and he answered her. His other arm went around her back, bringing her ass off the couch, and he hammered into her, his pace faster than her eye could catch. Her jaw went slack, her eyes slid closed, and she gave herself over to the feelings. Lei. Her Lei was finally making love to her. She had never had a servant, never knew what the bond would feel like, but she believed it wouldn’t be like this. It couldn’t be. Her power wafted around her until she could feel it against her skin. Goose bumps rose on her skin, and then she felt something wrench at her chest. She opened her eyes to see a white light, from Lei, spreading toward her chest. Tendrils reached her first, each one tightening her chest until it was one solid band, and then she couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, Lei. It’s working. It’s working,” she cried. She could feel him in her head. A movie reel of memories played through her mind. She saw Lei as a boy, growing up a street urchin. Saw him grow into a handsome child, the hint of his later sexiness stamped on his features. She saw him as a man, stealing the gold that would curse him, and the tortures he went through under Freya. Each memory quickened her heart. He was hers. He really was hers. She wrapped her arms around him as the pleasure began to tighten in her groin. It spiraled until she was screaming her release into the air. Lei grunted against her and then exploded within her. She felt his essence jet into her body. She laughed, feeling whole, as if a piece of her she had never known was missing was back.

Lei lay against her breasts, panting, and she stroked his head. They didn’t say anything. What was there to say? They’d made it. Lei had bonded with her. He was safe from Freya’s grasp. As a bonded consort to a goddess, Freya couldn’t hope to take him. That law was unspoken among the gods, but was heeded. She had saved him. The sooner they got to Folkvangr and saved Ayah, the better. Valerie would get her apple back, and then they would take steps to ensure that Alexander was safe. They wouldn’t leave him behind, that was for sure. Lei and Sevani would stop at nothing to make sure that Alexander would stay with them. Perhaps they would stay in the human world. Ayah had a home big enough for all of them. They could live, truly live. They were still immortals, and used to protecting others, but they’d find their place. It would take time, but none of them, she was sure, would be upset about the chance.

“Lei,” she whispered then and kissed the top of his head.

“Yes?” he answered, hugging her to him almost desperately.

“We made it. It’s okay. I’ll never let you go, my love. I love you.” Oh, how she had longed to say those words to him. They’d been trapped inside of her for so long.

“As I love you, my goddess,” Lei answered, and something about his words stopped her. She lifted his face to hers, and he was smiling the same sardonic smile that he always wore. “Sevani and Alexander have probably already left. Should we catch up with them?” he asked.

“Probably,” she responded, watching him.

He pulled from her body, and she felt the loss. She would have wished for a little more time, but Ayah needed them to find her. She stood on unsteady legs and started to pull her clothes back on. Lei did the same, taking time to strap on each of his discarded weapons. His fluid grace mesmerized her for a moment. For such a strong man, he moved like a great cat. When he looked at her again, her breath caught.

“I can’t believe it worked,” she commented.

“I knew it would. You are the greatest goddess. Anything you want to achieve, you will.”

Valerie froze, her heart sinking. That didn’t sound like Lei. He would have made a joke about his prowess, would have told her that he knew one day he’d get her. Hell, he would have told her that he needed seconds. Lei wasn’t a man for half measures. Nor was he a man to ask for permission, and he’d asked her if they should go. Maybe her mind was working in overdrive from her fears, but she just had to be sure.

“Lei?”

“Yes?”

“Take your gun out and shoot yourself in the arm,” she commanded then, hoping against hope that she was wrong.

“Valerie?” he questioned.

“Shoot yourself in the arm,” she repeated.

Lei shrugged, pulled out his gun, pointed it to opposite biceps, and fired.

Chapter Thirteen

Ronald Miller lived in a mansion on the outskirts of Austin. It hadn’t taken Sevani very long to find the address, or very long to get to it. Alexander had flashed them there. Sevani hadn’t wanted to risk being momentarily weakened by transition. This wouldn’t take that long. With Ronald out of the way, Jean Pierre, who Sevani had found was a good man, would own Miller Global. The family would be better off without Ronald to muddy the waters. This was just a loose end to tie up. The moment Freya had taken Ayah, she made Ronald secondary, and minuscule, in Sevani’s mind. The goddess had taken extreme measures. But he was happy she hadn’t thought about it before sending Sevani to Ayah. Sevani would have fought killing Ayah no matter what, but if Freya had just brought her to Folkvangr to die in the first place, then he never would have known her, never have touched her or bonded with her. Freya wouldn’t be facing the hell that would be coming her way.

Maybe there are little mercies in the world.