Aphrodite takes her hair down from its fancy design, pin by pin. She doesn’t look over, doesn’t even act like I’m in the room.
Now’s the time to take charge of the situation, to show her that I’m not some weakling that she can manipulate and steamroll. But I can’t quite make my body move as I watch dark strand after dark strand fall. Her hair is long, reaching halfway down her back in a faint wave. It’s not naturally wavy. Or at least it wasn’t during the house party Minos threw two weeks ago.
She sets the last pin on the dresser and runs her fingers through her hair. “That’s better. Now, come unzip me.”
I jolt. “The fuck?”
Aphrodite turns to face me, a mocking smile on her crimson lips. “Darling, look at me. In case you didn’t notice, this dress hardly allows for much movement.”
Against my better judgment, I drag my gaze over her body. The dress truly is a masterpiece. It leaves little to the imagination, and if she’s built just as sharp in body as she is in face, even I can’t deny that Aphrodite is beautiful. The lace flows over her body, drawing my attention to the curve of her small breasts, the slight flare of her waist, the miles and miles of legs.
“Turn around.” I hardly sound like myself.
She gives me one last long look and then turns. It’s not better without her dark eyes on me, because the mirror over the dresser hides nothing. She should be afraid of me, should be wondering what I might do now that we’re alone, and yet I’m the one who’s almost tentative as I move to stand behind her.
The zipper is a tiny little thing, but I’m used to this sort of shit after growing up with Pandora as a best friend. Women’s clothing is fucking impractical, and Pandora likes to pick the most impractical of all. I hope she listened to me about going home with the family tonight. She was a little tipsy when we left, and she gets mischievous when she drinks. So far, I’ve managed to keep her out of trouble since we came to Olympus, but this is the first night we won’t be spending together in longer than I can remember.
Fuck, I can’t think about that.
She’s smart. She won’t do anything dangerous. After the media frenzy that’s followed us around since I became Hephaestus, she has to know better than to be caught out alone. The reporters and paparazzi are unrelenting. I don’t know how these fuckers live like this.
Pandora isn’t part of Minos’s plan, which means she’s expendable in his eyes. Or she would be if her safety wasn’t so fucking important to me. He’ll have a security detail on her. He promised.
“Problem, Husband?”
Godsdamn it, but I can’t afford to think about Pandora right now. She’ll make it through the night and I’ll clean up any mess tomorrow. Right now, I need to focus on the danger closer at hand.
My wife.
It feels unbearably intimate to grab that ridiculous zipper and drag it slowly down the line of Aphrodite’s spine. The fabric parts, revealing smooth pale skin unmarred by scars. It’s nice to be an Olympian princess, apparently.
The dress slithers off her, and she makes no move to stop it. She’s wearing a pair of white lace panties beneath it and nothing else. Aphrodite turns to face me and leans against the dresser. “Your turn.”
I’ve never found the sweet, shy virginal thing particularly attractive, but her brazen attitude still sets me back on my heels. She’s been driving this encounter from the beginning. The wedding was all her doing, right down to the little details. And now this.
I’m fucking done.
“We do this my way.” I close the distance between us, pinning her between me and the dresser. She’s still wearing her heels, and fuck if it doesn’t irritate me beyond all reason to have her face even with mine.
Maybe that’s why I kiss her. It’s pure instinct, wanting to put her in her place, to remind her that she’s not the one in charge of this shit.
I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
She meets me halfway, our kiss immediately turning into a war of tongue and teeth. I dig my fist into her hair and wrap my other arm around her waist, jerking her against me. Fuck, but she feels good. I hate how good she feels.
I spin us around and half carry her to the bed. My instincts are all fucked up. I want to punish her, to make this fast and rough and selfishly chase my own pleasure…but I can’t quite make myself stop kissing her.
Aphrodite snakes a hand between us and cups my cock through my pants. She breaks the kiss long enough to say, “Someone’s happy to see me.”