language again. The language of the Djinn, but with a rough edge to them that sounded human. He pulled me to him again, put those burning lips to the column of my throat, and made me arch uncontrollably against him. It wasn't exactly clear in this relationship who owned who, I thought when I was capable of thinking. And he wasn't going to answer me. Not in words.
His hands were everywhere on me, shivering my skin into goose bumps, making me moan with need and delight. Too long, it's been too long... He rolled me over on my back, settled his weight on top of me, took hold of my wrists, and pinned them on either side of the black spill of my hair, tormenting me with kisses and friction that didn't put him where I needed him to be.
"God, David, please..." I whispered. I wasn't sure what I was asking, whether it was for the white-hot surge of flesh between us or the answers to my questions. Or something else entirely. I felt like crying, and I didn't know why. My heart hammered like a cheap toy, fragile and unreliable, one beat at a time between me and the end of things. I hadn't faced the crashing, intimate knowledge of my own mortality, because I couldn't. I was always hiding from it in action, chasing after what came next.
Not David. He'd faced it. He'd been afraid of losing me, of having every moment between us threaten to be the last. I'd made a being of fire and power afraid.
He looked merciless staring down at me, except for the vulnerability in his eyes. The odd, unexpected humanity. "Please don't ask me what it means."
There was something in it that made my heart break. I whispered, "I won't," and felt the tension ease out of him. "Because you're going to tell me."
"You have to trust me."
I choked on a laugh. "Who's on top here?"
"Chill Factor"
He let go of my wrists, sat up on his knees. The sheet slid away. The lamps gilded his skin, and I felt my breath catch and tear something inside of me. Some last shred of resistance.
His hands, hot on my thighs. Moving them.
"You have to trust me," he repeated. It was only a whisper now, and his eyes had kindled a bright new flame. "Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Yes!" I pushed myself up on straight arms, looking into his eyes. Slowly bent my knees and drew them up, drawing him in with the motion.
His teeth lightly grazed the skin of my shoulder. I put my arms around him, holding him, feeling the waves surge and break. Waves of power, transforming and pure.
He whispered words against me that broke me apart, destroyed me, rebuilt me as we moved, and I didn't recognize a word of it, and it no longer mattered, because now I understood. The way flesh accepts touch, or lungs accept air.
He was telling me he loved me, the way Djinn say the words, and it was more beautiful and more terrifying than the banners of war.
I fell asleep in his arms, safe and warm and untroubled, and there were no dreams.
I woke up to thunder. Reflex action: I checked Oversight, and found nothing out of the ordinary out there, then realized that the thunder was knocking, and there were people outside of my hotel room.
"Jo!" A man's voice, rough and authoritative. "Open the damn door. Right now!"
I knew the voice. I let my head fall back against the pillow of David's warm skin, and said what he already knew. "Great. The boss is checking up on us."
David pulled away from me and I could feel the fury burning through him, see it boiling in his eyes. This could get very unpleasant.
"Go," I told him. "Let me handle it."
His hot eyes scorched me, just for a second, but behind the anger I saw worry for me. I kissed him, fast and hard, and felt him mist away.
The door slammed open. I yelped and crawled backward, clutching the covers over myself, until my naked back met the cold headboard.
My boss, Paul Giancarlo, flanked by three other Wardens. One of them was Marion Bearheart, the woman who scared me most in the world; nice lady, frightening powers, and the right and responsibility to use them.
I flipped up into the aetheric plane to get a quick reading, and saw Paul in his avatar form-his outline had the unmistakable suggestion of a knight in armor, sword in hand. In