She nodded and just stared at him. There were a million emotions in her gaze, but the worst one was regret. He didn’t want her regret. Not even a little, not even for a second. He hated that that was all she wanted to give him. Was that all this was worth to her? He wanted to shake her, wanted to hit something. This went far beyond the killer they hunted. This was about them, and whether she even accepted there was a them.
They stepped into the elevator, and the moment the doors slid shut, she turned to him.
“Jack ...”
His stomach clenched at the misery in her voice. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but he’d learned a long time ago that wasn’t a promise he could make anyone.
“I never meant for us to get this involved. It was just supposed to be sex. A last fling to send me off in style.” She gave a breathy, sad laugh. “I never meant for you to get hurt, and I’m so sorry, Jack. I wanted you to be able to walk away and not—”
“Walk away?” He punched the button to bring the elevator to a shuddering stop. “Walk away? Don’t you get it? It’s too late for that. It’s too late for me. I’m already fucking in love with you!” He was shouting in her face, his frustration and grief at the thought of losing her breaking free, and then he had her in his arms, consuming her in a kiss. He hadn’t expected to say those words, hadn’t even known they were there, but damn if they weren’t true.
She shoved her fingers in his hair, knotting them tight and kissing him back with as much violent ardor. His hands curved around her soft ass, and he pulled her up so he could align his sex with hers. She parted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, grinding her pussy against him. They sucked and bit at each other’s lips, and he tasted blood. His or hers, he didn’t know and didn’t care, but the carnality drove him onward. He had to have her. One last time. If she died, if she lived and decided she wanted her isolation more than she wanted him, he had to have her, have this, one last time.
He backed her into the side of the elevator, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Magic our pants off, would you?”
She choked on a laugh, but she blinked and cool air swirled around his legs. They were bared from the waist down. Perfect.
Reaching between them, he grasped his cock and rubbed it against her pussy. “You’re wet.”
“Yes.” She arched her back and worked her damp, swollen lips on his hand and his dick. “Now, Jack. Now. I can’t wait.”
Neither could he.
He guided himself to her slick opening and plunged deep in one swift thrust. She bit his shoulder and made a strangled sound of utter need. Her pussy fisted around his cock, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming right then and there. She hit him with a wave of pleasure spells, sizzling his nerves with fire and ice, lightning that arced over their limbs.
The rhythm he set for them was punishing, rough. Driving them to the edge of orgasm in moments. He fucked her hard, loving the sounds she made, how she clung to him and clenched her thighs around his hips. He shoved his hand into her hair and pulled her head back, reclaiming her lips.
She moaned into his mouth each time he entered her tight pussy, and he sank his tongue in to twine with hers, to taste her. So sweet, so hot, so uniquely Selina. Her hips rolled against his, and she squeezed her inner muscles around his pounding cock. He groaned, shuddered, knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
He wanted her with him. He gripped her ass tighter and slid inward to work his finger into her anus. She screamed into his mouth, her movements becoming frantic. Lightning flashed in the small elevator, and it danced in a storm over their heads, forks of it striking their flesh. He shuddered, working her with his cock and his finger while she cried out.
“Come now, Selina.” He pulled her tight to the base of his dick and rotated his pelvis against her clit.
She exploded in his arms, and the sizzle of her spell centered right where their bodies joined. He groaned and broke with her, his come jetting into her. When he was spent, all he had was a vague wish that he could have this forever, that it could never, ever end. There was only one way to do that. Change her fate.
“We have to go,” he said, because someone had to.
She stroked her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, tilting her head back to kiss his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. “I know.”
They both groaned when he let her slide down the wall, his still semihard cock pulling out of her. She brushed her mouth over his, then did some kind of spell that cleaned them up and put their clothes back on. He leaned over and pushed the button to resume their downward journey to the parking garage in the basement.
They walked to her car in silence, sliding inside and buckling up. Her hands shook slightly when she put the key in the ignition. “You’re not going to try to stop me from going?”
“No.” He sighed. “I would do the same thing in your place. I wouldn’t let anyone keep me away from this.”
Not after what Isaak Night had done to Darren. Not after what he’d done to Selina’s cousin and so many other people. Nothing could keep him away from this, and he couldn’t be hypocritical enough to demand from her what he wouldn’t give himself.
He glanced at her set expression as she pulled out of the parking spot. “You’re not going to die, you know.”
Shaking her head, she offered him a rueful smile. “Everyone dies.”
“Not on my watch.” Maybe if he said it enough, they’d both believe it. It had to be true. He needed it to be true.
A little laugh spilled from her. “That’s such a Normal thing to say.”
“I’m Normal, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He motioned down at himself as she merged the car into traffic.
“I had, actually.” She sobered, her gaze growing sad. “Don’t set yourself up for failure by trying to stop the inevitable.”
“It’s not inevitable.” He sliced a hand through the air. “The only thing that inevitably kills you is age. Everything else is mutable.”
She shook her head again. “Despite how I look to you, I’m old and I’m tired. Almost four and a half centuries is more than most Magickals get, and way more than any Normal would consider.”
“Don’t be so accepting of this.” He got a stranglehold on his temper and kept his voice level. “I want you to want to live. I want you to fight for it.”
The noise she made was impatient. “I’ve been fighting for four hundred and forty-one years, Jack. What more do you want from me?”
“Fifty more years! That’s what I want from you.”
She blinked, paled, and glued her eyes to the road in front of them. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”
“Coward.”
Her lips trembled and she pressed them together for a moment. “I’m going to die soon, Jack. Stop rubbing my nose in it with things that aren’t possible. It’s cruel.”
“So you do want it, then.” Thank God. He couldn’t be the only one who wanted her to stay alive.
“Leave me alone.” Her voice rose, and her hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“No,” he snapped back. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I think you’ve been alone far too long. I think that’s what makes you so fatalistic and accepting of death. I don’t think you’re tired or bored with life. I think you’ve gone too long with no one else giving a shit if you lived or died. It’s easy to be accepting when you think the only one it affects is you.”