Cruel Seduction (Dark Olympus, #5) (47)

I twist and he moves back enough to allow me to turn over. And there it is, a faint curve of his lips. This smile is different than any he’s given me to date, though. It warms his dark eyes, twinkling in their depths. I lift a shaking hand and cup his jaw.

This isn’t real. It isn’t—

He kisses me, sweeping away what’s left of my resistance. I cling to him as he retreats a little, but he’s only grabbing a condom. He sits back on his heels and looks down at me as if he wants to memorize this moment, imprint it right down to his bones.

This man, this monster, this enemy…

He’s all business as he rolls on a condom and picks up the lube. He pops the cap and pauses. There’s a question in his gaze, but he doesn’t voice it. He doesn’t have to. The pause is inquiry enough. I cover his hand holding the lube and guide him to squeeze a bit onto his free hand. His resulting smile is more of a grin—and a crooked one at that.

Oh gods, he’s charming when he’s not snarling and glaring.

“A gift,” he murmurs.

“For me or for you?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” He coats his cock with lube and then spreads a bit more down my ass.

Theseus calls me perfect, but the sight of him leaves me breathless. I feel like so much of my strength is in theory, marked out in clear boundaries to keep me safe. I work hard…in the gym. I’m ambitious…but only to a point that doesn’t put me or the people I love in danger. I grew up in a loving home with two parents who would cut off their own hands before they raised them to me. What discipline I received was tempered with love.

Not like Eris, who might be physically unmarked, but wears her scars on her soul.

Not like Theseus, the things he’s survived written across his brown skin. And those are only the things I can see on his physical body. There are more beneath the surface; I only had to have a single conversation with him to know that.

All that strength to keep moving, to keep surviving…

He leans forward and presses his cock to my ass. Slow. So devastatingly slow. This time, he doesn’t ask me if I’m good. He doesn’t need to. I’m moaning and writhing for him, trying to take him deeper even as he controls the pace.

It seems to take forever for him to sheath himself to the hilt. Theseus caresses my thighs, a gentle stroke that makes me whimper. He grins in response. “I like it when you make that sound. I like that I’m the one to do it.”

Not real.

The words feel as insubstantial as mist. I can barely keep my eyes open, but I refuse to miss a moment of this. It won’t last. It can’t last. But we have right now, and right now is more perfect than I could have dreamed. “More,” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer with words. He simply starts moving inside me, one smooth withdrawal followed by an equally smooth stroke. It’s so good and yet not enough. I reach up and grab his sides. It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to kiss me, to not stop, but I don’t manage to get the words out before he anticipates my needs.

Theseus hooks an arm under my hips, lifting me to him even as he descends to me. Our chests are slick with sweat and the delicious friction is almost unbearably good. I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him.

Time ceases to hold meaning. There’s only the thrust of his body into mine, the slide of our bodies together, his taste on my tongue as our breath mingles with each broken kiss.

When we finally collapse to the bed, spent and exhausted, the line between reality and a pretty lie has blurred until it’s unrecognizable. Especially with the way he strokes a hand down my side and presses a kiss to my temple.

It might not be real…

But it feels a whole lot like love.





18


APHRODITE





I don’t end up reading. Instead, I hold my book open and watch Pandora circle my living room. She’s as curious as a cat, touching the little trinkets I have arranged on the floating shelves by the door, sifting through the books on my bookshelf, even testing out each of the couches and chairs. She does it all without a smidge of self-consciousness. I like that a lot.

I should be seducing her right now. She knows more than she’s saying just by virtue of being Hephaestus’s best friend and living in Minos’s household. If I’ve learned anything through the years, it’s that even the most steadfast asshole will forget themselves when they’re doped up on good sex. It’s a tactic I’ve used more than a few times, with great success.

It would work on Pandora.

Our little interlude in Hades’s club all but proved it. I spent far too much of today thinking about how sweetly her lips had parted and how lovely the lust-glazed look was in her dark eyes. “I want to keep you.”

Pandora stops in the middle of flipping through a book filled with monster-fucking art. “Excuse me?”

I hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but now that I have, I’m not about to backtrack. “You feel this connection, too. I realize we’re somewhat on opposite sides of things, but I’ve never let a little thing like a person being an enemy stop me from taking what I want. I want you.”

She slowly turns another page. “Even if I admitted to feeling a connection with you… Eris, I’m not for keeping. I’ll never be the type of person who feels comfortable with monogamy.”