Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
But he stands there, perfectly still, as I shift up onto my toes. “Unless you want me to seduce you?”
His mouth moves and he stammers. Actually fucking stammers. “I…uh…what?” It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Poseidon clears his throat. “No. That isn’t necessary. I said I would protect you, and you don’t need to be in my bed to ensure it happens.”
Maybe not, but it’s a good way to tip the scale in my favor. Sex creates intense emotions in most people. Maybe not at first, but give it enough time and that shared intimacy starts to mean something. I’ve never let that get in the way of my end goals, but my partners start to feel special, valued, like they can trust me with their deepest secrets. And that’s where the real value is. Having sex with Poseidon is no great sacrifice. He’s handsome and shows every evidence of being kind and considerate. I’d still do it even if he wasn’t, but it certainly makes for a more pleasurable experience.
I press even closer until our breath mingles in the bare space between our lips. “I don’t need to be in your bed…but maybe I want to be.”
“Icarus.” On his lips, my name is a plea for mercy.
Too bad I have none. “Poseidon.” I shift one of my hands to the back of his neck and dig my fingers into his thick red hair. I pull, mostly to angle his head to where I want it, but the moment I do, his knees buckle.
His. Knees. Buckle.
He catches himself on the edge of the counter and stares down at me with something like wonder. Maybe that’s the sensation in my chest right now, warm and strange and confusing. Surely Poseidon isn’t submissive. He’s one of the Thirteen, for gods’ sake. I’ve read my father’s reports. He runs his teams of people with an iron fist and a mutual respect. I anticipated him being tough and strong and maybe a little kind, but not enough to outweigh his dominance.
And yet that same man is staring down at me with his eyes too wide and his lips parted. As if I’ve shocked him. As if I’ve introduced him to something he didn’t even know he needed.
This development should be enough to cause me to retreat, to come at this from a different angle, but I can’t escape the look in his eyes. I can’t stop myself from tugging on his hair again, harder this time. He whimpers.
Holy fuck.
I don’t make the decision to kiss him. My body does it for me. I guide him closer, and he moves with my touch, putty in my hands. And then his mouth is on mine, and all my plans dissolve in the rush of sheer need. He tastes like the spices of the meal we just ate, and he has to be approaching forty, but his lips are almost tentative against mine. As if he’s waiting for me to guide this connection.
Later, I’ll have to figure out what the fuck I feel about this, but right now I’m riding on instinct. I bite his bottom lip, wanting to hear that whimper again. Wanting to taste it. He gives me exactly what I desire. I suspect he’s gripping the counters right now because he very carefully doesn’t touch me. He lets me touch him.
But only a hand in his hair and one pressed against his chest so I can feel his racing heart—and it is racing. For me. Because I’m kissing him. Power surges through me, heightening my desire, turning it into something even stronger than I could have anticipated. I kiss him harder, deeper. This was meant to be a soft, careful seduction. But there’s no room for either of those things now. Not when his hands finally touch me, his palms pressing to my hips, his fingers digging into the curve of my ass. He moans against my tongue and pulls me hard against him, obviously craving more contact with as much fervor as I do.
The press of his chest to mine sends a wave of agony through me. My wounds. I’d completely forgotten. My sound of pain is barely a whisper, but somehow he hears it. Poseidon rips his mouth from mine and uses his hold on my hips to set me away from him. “That’s enough.”
I stare at him, my breath coming hard in my lungs. There’s no space for argument, but as my heart slows and my lungs settle in my chest once more, knowledge takes root inside me. It’s not enough.
It won’t be enough until I possess him fully.
10
Poseidon
I end the evening quickly after that. It’s easy enough to usher Icarus back to his room. As much as I want to flee to my room, as much as I’m certain his words were meant to incite a particular reaction in me, I can’t deny the truth of them. I intended for him to be safe here, and he wasn’t. I may not have been the one that drew a blade across his skin, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m responsible; it was one of my people who did it.