I padded slowly down the stairs, my heart pounding, but in an all-good, exhilarating way. In the living room the fire crackled, giving off a warm glow.
My hand went to my mouth.
White lilies.
Everywhere.
Frozen in place, I looked towards the kitchen. Lincoln was facing the stove, stirring something. He must have had a shower while I was drying my hair, because his was still damp, and messed about. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. Barefoot. His arm flexed as he concentrated on whatever he was cooking, but he knew I was there.
‘Dinner’s almost ready,’ he said, without turning around.
Whatever had happened to Lincoln between the last time I saw him and now, we’d clearly come to the same realisation.
I chewed on a smile.
‘So,’ I said, casually. ‘We’re really going to die, huh?’
At that, Lincoln put down a wooden spoon and turned. He paused, looking me up and down, his eyes travelling over me in a way he rarely allowed himself. My pulse raced.
His gaze settled on mine and I noticed the bruise on his cheek. He took a step towards me, and any coherent thoughts I had, scrambled.
‘Either way,’ he said, his voice thick as syrup, ‘Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?’
I hitched a shoulder. ‘The foreplay was dragging on,’ I said, my smile now cheeky.
He watched, biting down on his lower lip.
‘And if we only have tonight, I know exactly how I want to spend it,’ he said. Simple. Sure.
Hyperventilate later!
I looked right back at him. ‘Me too.’
He nodded once and spun back in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘I’ll finish making dinner.’
Even with his back to me I could see his body heaving with heavy breaths that mirrored mine.
‘Linc?’ I whispered.
‘Hmm,’ he said, one hand gripping the kitchen bench as if trying to fasten himself there.
My heart thumped. I felt every nerve in my body come to life as my soul awoke with the sense of possibility.
Breathe.
‘I’m not hungry.’
I didn’t even make my first step towards him before he was there, crushing me into his body, taking my face in his hands. He paused only to look at me, to make sure I knew he was seeing me.
‘I love you,’ he said, and then his lips were on mine.
My hands were in his hair, then down the strong lines of his back. His arms lifted me into the air as my legs wrapped around his waist. I cried out with the sheer relief of knowing I could finally let go, of knowing I could finally allow my soul its freedom.
He carried me upstairs, stopping along the way to back me into the wall, to press against me and kiss me in that way of his that ignited every kind of fire conceivable. Slowly, meaningfully, his lips moved with single-minded purpose, telling me with every deliberate touch that he loved me. It reminded me of the first kiss we’d shared and I knew now, that was the moment my soul discovered his and decided they belonged together.
The burden of our choice had finally been lifted. As a result, Lincoln showed me exactly what it was like to be loved by him without restraint. He was strong and unwavering, but he didn’t rush, taking his time with my clothes and letting me linger as I removed his. I needed the staring time, damn it. He was utterly beautiful.
He laid me on the bed and held himself over me, his eyes burning into mine with love and want and need and I knew the same emotions were reflected in my own. It was dreamlike. The world had taken on a new perspective and I could feel and see everything with more intensity.
He pushed my arms up over my head and pressed his palms into mine, each finger connecting with one of my own. He took his time and somehow it was the most sensual experience of my life – feeling his fingers pushing down on mine until they curled around my hand and then, undoing me, he started all over again – his eyes on me the entire time.
My soul pushed forwards, hungry, willing and demanding what it had desired for so long. What it needed. For the first time I let go.
I’d imagined this moment over and over, in my dreams. I thought I knew how it would feel, but it wasn’t what I had imagined. This moment transcended everything, because when we joined, my soul – so much more intense than my angelic power – surged up and found his, entwining with it, drowning me in his essence and everything that felt like the sun.
And then came the power.
Like a whirlwind, our abilities opened up to each other and I felt the final bond form, creating a gateway from one to another. I felt the rush of his immense strength, and was immediately in tune with his shadow-finding abilities. If I wanted to draw on his powers, I could. It was all there for the taking, just as mine were to him.
Lincoln cried out. Not with pain, but overload.
His hand grabbed the side of my face, pushing my hair back, his eyes blazing green.