Psyche makes a sound of protest and tries to pull me back down to her. “More.”
“The jeweler.”
She goes still. It’s amazing to see her pull herself together, putting away her desire and focusing on the endgame. Her body tenses and then relaxes. Her grip on my hair loosens. She can’t quite banish the heavy-lidded look from her eyes, but she manages to smooth out her expression a bit. Slowly, oh so slowly, she removes her fingers from my hair. “Right. The jeweler. We need rings for the ceremony.” Her voice is only a little ragged now. She recovered so quickly, far faster than I’m able to.
“Yes.”
She licks her lips. “Then you should probably get off me.”
It’s only then that I realize I’m still pressing her into the mattress. She cradles me between her thighs, her heels locked at the small of my back. “If you want me to get off of you, you should probably release me.”
I like the way she blushes. I like it a lot.
It still takes far too much control to move off her, and then it only gets worse because I can see her again. If a normal Psyche is a temptation I’ll never be able to resist, a pleasure-sated Psyche is like mainlining the most addictive drug on the planet. I want her again, as soon as possible, as many times as we can manage before our bodies give out.
I take a step back, and then another. “I’m going to change.”
“Good idea,” she says faintly, her gaze on the front of my pants. “I should get dressed.”
“Yes.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, the tension building into an almost visible thing. It feels like she’s hooked a magnet up to my gut—or, more accurately, my cock—and it’s pulling me in her direction even now. We break at the same time, me heading for the closet and Psyche darting out the door in the direction of the spare bedroom.
It’s only once I change into clean clothing and have my shit put back together that I can admit the truth. She might not want to get entangled, but it’s pretty damn clear that I already am. I’ve never been that close to losing control before, not with any of my other partners. But then, she’s proven again and again in the short time we’ve spent together that Psyche Dimitriou isn’t like anyone else in Olympus. No wonder my mother wanted to extinguish her bright light. She’s smart and savvy and far too good for a man like me.
I don’t give a fuck.
After tonight, she’s mine in truth.
14
Psyche
After two world-shattering orgasms in quick succession, the rest of the day goes by far too quickly, the hours slipping away as Eros and I get everything in order, until it’s time to get ready for the ceremony.
For my wedding ceremony.
Persephone arrives with both my dress and her glowering husband. Hades is rather attractive—a tall white man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a really nice beard—but the only person he seems to smile at is my sister, and his do-not-fuck-with-me vibe is enough to keep everyone at a distance. He loves Persephone to distraction, and that’s enough for me. He doesn’t have to be a cuddly teddy bear as long as she’s happy. And she really, really is.
It’s too bad I don’t have the same fate ahead of me with my very own monster of a man.
Eros has disappeared, saying something about getting some last-minute details in place. He’s promised me that Aphrodite is still ensconced in her spa weekend—he even called to check in with her assistant earlier—but I can’t help worrying that she’ll show up in time to put a stop to this whole charade. But I trust Eros, at least in this.
When Aphrodite checks social media after her weekend away, there will be consequences, and they will come down on Eros’s shoulders. I can’t help feeling…bad for him.
My mother won’t be any happier when she finds out about this hasty marriage. I might not know the details of her plans for me, but they don’t include a marriage to Eros. That’s for damn sure. Even she can’t fight it once we’re legally bound together. But once she works through her anger? She’ll already be examining the angles for how she can spin the situation to benefit her.
On the surface, our mothers aren’t that different. Both are powerful and ambitious and ruthless to a fault.
The difference?
My mother might try to move me around like a pawn on the chessboard that is Olympus, but she actually loves me. She won’t let love get in the way of power, but she also wouldn’t expect me to show up for a party after being cut up and then be furious because I was late.