Distantly, he felt a tug against his scalp. She’d speared her fingers through his shaggy mane, which he’d kept long just for her. Just for this. Just because he’d dreamed about her fist in his hair, directing his head where she wanted it to go.
Of course, he’d also dreamed about doing the same thing to her.
Her other hand was sliding under his tee, up his back, and he was palming her ass once more, plastering her against him until her softness yielded to the contours of his body, and no, he definitely couldn’t detect panties underneath those thin, thin leggings.
This was getting out of control quickly. Too quickly.
Before they went further, he had to know.
He ripped his mouth from hers, wild and panting and needy. “Does this mean you want me? Not just someone to keep you warm?”
His voice was hoarse. Gravelly with desire and longing.
After sliding her hand out from under his tee, she cupped his face between her small palms tenderly. So tenderly he had to close his eyes against the ache in his chest.
“This means I’m sorry.” She kissed his eyelids, her lips warm and gentle. “This means my doubts had more to do with me than you, but they were still unfair to both of us.”
Her lips brushed his temples softly. So, so softly.
“This means I want you. Only you.” She took his bottom lip between her teeth and nipped, and he shook against her. “And this means I’ve wanted you ever since you walked toward me in LAX looking like a freaking god. That damn Henley should be outlawed.”
She licked his mouth open and conquered him anew, and he returned the favor. With one arm bracing her shoulders and neck, her skull cradled in his hand, he surged forward, pushing her flat on the bed and crawling over her.
On his hands and knees, her body caged within his, he was supplicant and conqueror both. He dragged his open mouth over her cheek, along her jaw, down her neck. “How far do you want to take this tonight, Wren?”
When he licked a certain spot behind her ear, then blew on her damp skin, her breath hitched, so he did it again.
“I—” Her blunt fingernails bit into his back as he sucked at the shadowy skin of her neck. “Just—just kissing, I think. If that’s okay? It’s so cold in here, and I don’t want our first time together to happen under a pile of blankets. I want to see you.”
She didn’t owe him anything. Everything she’d already offered was more of a gift than he’d ever earned.
“Whatever you want,” he vowed. “However you want it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Her smile was tremulous and lovely and wide and entirely his.
He urged her beneath the covers once more, because he didn’t want her cold. Not for another moment. Then she was back in his arms, her hair soft against his fingers, her mouth hot and eager on his, and he’d never read a fic this fucking good.
Not one. Not ever.
Rating: Explicit
Fandoms: Gods of the Gates – E. Wade, Gods of the Gates （TV）
Relationships: Cupid/Psyche
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern, Sex Pollen, explicit consent but when it comes to sex pollen things are always at least a little hinky, truly endless scenes of Cupid going down on Psyche, Venus is awful as always but at least Psyche gets some orgasms out of it yay
Stats: Words: 8249 Chapters: 3/3 Comments: 183 Kudos: 771 Bookmarks: 56
In the Air Tonight
PsycheStan
Summary:
Venus releases pollen from a special flower, one that causes insatiable lust, into Psyche’s home—then sends Jupiter for a visit. The goddess hopes her son Cupid will be repulsed by the sight of his would-be lover with his grandfather and spurn Psyche.
Little does Venus know: Psyche expected something like this to happen. She planned ahead.
Notes:
Cupid may only be half a god, but I’m pretty sure that half includes his tongue.
__________________________
The magical webbed shield created by Minerva vibrates once. Twice. Again.
Psyche barely has time to make it to the phone before the fire claims her, body and soul.
“Dido,” she pants, one hand already sliding between her legs, into the wetness that has bloomed in the space of a heartbeat. “Venus. Our plan.”
“Got it. I know what to do,” her best friend says, then hangs up.
Dido, the most loyal and stalwart of BFFs, will find Cupid and explain to him what his mother has done, and what Psyche has already decided is acceptable. If he’s willing to provide relief, he’ll come.
And if he does, so will she. Around his fingers. On his tongue.