The Damned (The Unearthly #5)

Leave him be, the practical part of my mind instructed. The illogical, cursed part of me refused to let him continue to brood.

I reached up and turned his head to face me. For the barest of moments I caught sight of the heady anger consuming him from the inside out. But as soon as his eyes landed on mine, his expression gentled.



His hold tightened. “You are mine.” Possessive.

“And you are mine,” I said.

He inclined his head in agreement, and I pressed myself in closer.

Andre rested his chin on my head.

“How have you been?” I asked. I always thought of this man as a force of nature, but right now he seemed vulnerable. And so tired.

He laughed gruffly, the action shaking me. “I lived an eternity every second you were gone, and I died countless times in each.” He pulled me tighter to him. “It’s a strange thing, having a bond break. Strange and excruciating. A part of me is gone.

“Stranger still to sit here next to you and have it throb like an open wound. But when I’m near you, it aches less, and the will to die—I can think through it. But this isn’t natural. My body believes you’re gone and it wants to follow you. It can’t bear to be apart.”

My blood ran cold. “You … want to die?” An uncomfortable heat followed the chill that passed through me. I hadn’t felt this type of fear. Ever.

“Soulmate, this isn’t the first time. When you’ve lived as long as I have, death crosses your mind many times.”

I brought my fingers to his lips. “Stop it.” I didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to know that my situation might well and truly kill my soulmate.

That couldn’t happen.

That wouldn’t happen. Earth and heaven and hell be damned. I’d defy everyone and everything to keep this man safe.



Andre wrapped his hand around mine and removed it from his mouth.

“You promised me you’d stay strong and not give up,” I reminded him.

“Soulmate, you survived hell to end up in my arms. I’m as far as you can be from giving up.”

Something awfully close to a sob caught in my throat. I cleared it. “Good.”

And that was about when the last of my control snapped.

Suddenly, I was kissing him and he was kissing me. My hands were in his hair, and his ran possessively over my back and down my hips. Our mouths didn’t separate as I hiked up my dress so I could straddle his lap. The only air I wanted to breathe was his, and the only taste I wanted to drink up was his essence.

At some point the car came to a stop. Andre managed to open the door without us completely spilling onto the pavement, and I wrapped my legs around him as he stepped out of the vehicle.

I didn’t notice Bishopcourt, or the people that witnessed our class act. There were only two things in my world—Andre and I—and soon there’d be only one.

If this was just fairytale, then I would make the most of it.

I didn’t remember the journey from the steps of Bishopcourt to Andre’s bedroom, but suddenly we were in there. Andre kicked the door closed and then we were ripping at each other’s clothes. Buttons popped as I tore Andre’s shirt open. He knelt, gathering the skirt of my dress and pulling it up and over my head in one fluid movement.



At the back of my mind I realized he’d probably done this thousands of times with thousands of different women over the thousands of months of his very long life. But none of that mattered. He could’ve been with them and I might be with the devil and none of it meant anything. I knew this as surely as I breathed.

This time, we didn’t ask permission. We didn’t fumble. Didn’t hesitate. His chest touched mine and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His lips met mine.

In one smooth stroke he entered me.

I gasped, my skin brightening. He leaned his forehead against mine, and our gazes locked. This close to him, I could see all the hues that made up his irises. And I wanted to look into those eyes for the rest of my immortal life.

“This close to you, it doesn’t hurt,” Andre said between kisses.

He was going to make me cry, and I really didn’t want to cry. I wanted to obliterate every thought beyond this moment. Thinking of the future was when things got messy, and really, this was all very simple. He was my one and only. I was his. No bond could create or destroy this. It had a life of its own.

Andre moved, and air hissed out from between my teeth. He thrust back into me, his eyes locked on mine. There they stayed.

“I will always be yours.” He went about saying those words like he did everything. Fiercely. Deliberately.



“And I will always be yours.”

He moved against me and my fingers sunk into his back. After that, we let our bodies do the talking.

Andre

Andre held Gabrielle tighter than was necessary. But if he had it his way, they’d still be joined completely. Instead, he had to deal with this restlessness.

Bonded to another man.

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