Page 69 of The Endless One

“It can be remade.” He hummed so low it was almost a growl. “I don’t know if I can come with you this time, Jessamine. You are no longer a gravesinger.”

But then he felt her wrap her hand around his neck as well, her grip a band of iron stronger than any shackle that had been placed on him. “I bound myself to you long ago, Deathless One. Nothing changes that. You will come with me.”

He could feel that command deep in his belly, as though there was a pull there which had never existed before, and suddenly he gasped as it tightened around his entire torso. A rope, a lead, something that should have not existed, and yet there it was.

This was different from the connection they once had as gravesinger and god. This was a tie between them that was unbreakable. It was a link between them, her soul and what was left of his, looped around each other.

She had bound them together. Forever, no matter where she was, he would be as well. Not a single god and goddess, but a combination of both.

She had no idea what she had done. At least, that’s what he told himself. But his heart knew that she had promised to keep him with her always, and now she was making good on that promise.

They materialized once more in the cave where they had both died, laid out on an altar like they were still a sacrifice. Yet now, everything was different. Everything had changed.

He reached up, scooping his hand under her hair and holding the back of her head so that she would let him look at her. And look he did. In this realm, she appeared much the same as before she died. Although now he swore he could still see those little filaments of gold where she had been pieced back together, beautifully and wonderfully broken.

“I know I’m not the same as I once was,” she whispered. “But what do I look like now?”

“Beautiful,” he replied, flexing so he could lean up and press a kiss to her throat. “Powerful. You look every inch a goddess.”

“Is that so?” She rolled her hips on top of his, and he suddenly remembered the other part of waking up as a god.

After dying, the body was filled with so much life that it was almost hard to think of anything else. The vessel woke more hungry than they had ever been, more aroused than reasonable, thirsty, all the things that a body felt like it needed. For him, he had devoured anything they had put in front of him for weeks on end. He’d wanted nothing more than to eat until he threw up, and then he did it all over again. Nothing satisfied him, until his body finally realized that it wasn’t going to die anytime soon, and it could relax.

But apparently, his nightmare was not hungry for food. Her hips rolled again, and her head tilted back.

Her dark hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulder, obscuring one of her bare breasts, and his mouth went dry. After each death, she became more beautiful. Every time she had died, he had thought so. But now?

Now he wanted to worship at her feet like all the supplicants who would come soon enough. He would be right there with them, crying out for an ounce of her attention, even though he knew he didn’t have to beg for it.

Elric slid his fingers up her ribs, following the fracture lines of a woman who had been torn apart, piece by piece, over and over again, only to knit herself back together in the form of something so wondrous she was hard to behold. She let out a breathy moan as his fingers closed around her breast, molding it in his grip as he knew she loved.

Neither of them wished to wait. They had been without each other for years, it felt. And in truth, it might have been years that they were gone. But they were both alive. Both needy. Both yearning to slake their thirst on each other, and nothing would stop them.

He wasn’t even sure the cave collapsing on them would have stopped him from devouring her whole.

Arching, he splayed one hand behind her back and forced her to curve more into him. The move bent her back over his arm, spreading her out like a banquet for his lips and tongue to discover new tastes and new sparks of magic that tingled as he traced his tongue around her nipple and then down into the valley between her breasts.

“Elric,” she whined. “I can’t wait for you. I need you, I’ve never… never…”

“It’s the magic,” he replied, lifting her so she could reach between them and align him at her core. “You’ve never been alive like this before, nightmare.”

And with that, he thrust inside of her. They both let out matching groans as their foreheads touched. She felt so perfect, like home. He wanted her to know that. He wanted to tell her that she was the safest place in the world for him, and that he loved her so damn much.

But then she braced her hand on his chest, used his body as leverage, and moved. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the pace she set. This wasn’t soft or kind or loving. This was fast and rough, raw and needy. This was a woman reclaiming the life that had been stolen from her and deciding that life hadn’t treated her all that well.

She poured all her rage into him. Slamming down upon his hips so hard that it almost hurt as they kissed with teeth and tongue. A feral need rose between the two of them, bubbling and burning and aching until that was all he could focus on.

There were no words. Only the harsh sounds of their lovemaking as they reminded each other that they were both alive. They were both here.

And fuck anyone else who stood in their way.

He reached between them, pressing his thumb to that spot she loved. Her clit throbbed against his fingers, and then she came so hard around him he couldn’t even move. Didn’t want to. Fuck, feeling her clench around him like that was like he had become a god all over again.

A deep, guttural groan erupted from her chest, and it was a sound that he wanted to hear a thousand times as she came. She was beautiful. Her head thrown back in abandon, her dark hair sticking to her sweaty chest in coils that were still somehow graceful.

He was always so struck by her beauty. This resilient, impressive woman had no right to be his. But he would struggle every day to be worthy of a single ray of her light.

Gripping her thighs, he likely bruised her as he thrust up into her warm heat one more time before releasing within her. She was still clenching him, the aftershocks of her own orgasm running through her as he found his own pleasure.