Hephaestus—Theseus, whoever the fuck he is right now—eases back the tiniest bit. I don’t have a chance to protest. He catches my chin and drags me down until our faces are almost even. “I like you. I have no fucking business liking you.”
Before I can respond, he shoves two fingers into my mouth. Theseus holds my gaze as he fucks my mouth with his fingers, pressing deep enough to have me gagging around him. My grip spasms in his hair. Gods, why is this so sexy?
Just when I think I can’t handle it another moment, he eases his fingers out of my mouth. “Say my name when you come. My real name.” He descends on my cock again and, this time, he’s not playing around. He presses his fingers, wet from my mouth, into my ass.
My brain shorts out. All intentions to be careful disappear. My body takes over, my hips rolling to fuck his mouth, to fuck myself on his fingers. “Oh gods.” I can’t catch my breath, can’t slow down, can’t stop. My orgasm is coming too quickly, but there’s not a single thing I can do about it. “Theseus.”
He growls around my cock, the vibrations only making me come harder. My knees buckle, but I manage to keep my feet through sheer desperation. If I fall now, I lose the feeling of him drinking me down.
Theseus lifts his head slowly and presses a kiss to my stomach. “Good boy.”
The praise spoken so gruffly by this scarred warrior buoys me in a way I’m not prepared to deal with. He eases his fingers out of me and leans back. “That was a good start.”
“I…” There’s nothing to say, is there? “Bedroom.”
“Yeah.” He nudges me back and rises. “Let’s go.”
We take a quick detour to the bathroom for him to wash his hands, and then I lead him down the hall toward my bedroom. I pause long enough to wonder what he thinks of it. My apartment isn’t particularly large. There’s only me here, and I don’t care to keep up with cleaning a bunch of rooms I don’t spend time in.
I’m a bit of a snob when it comes to my bedroom, though. My mattress is top of the line and my sheets have the kind of thread count that used to make Eris tease me with a wicked look in her eyes.
No.
I’m not thinking about Eris right now.
I ignore the ache in my chest and start for the window to close the curtains. Theseus’s hand closes over my shoulder. “Wait.” His free hand skates down my spine, stopping at the small of my back. “I want to fuck you, Adonis.”
“I want it, too.”
“Do you need to prep?”
I flush when I realize what he’s asking. Part of me wants to pretend I don’t understand, to deny that I even considered it a possibility we might get to this place tonight. I swallow my pride and rasp, “We’re good.”
Theseus gives a low laugh that makes my skin tighten. He steps closer, pressing against my back, his cock a hard length against my ass. “You really are a good boy, aren’t you?” He kisses the back of my neck. “Got yourself all ready for me.”
The contrast between his mouth soft on my skin and his fingers digging into my shoulder makes me moan. “Yes.”
He coasts his hand from the small of my back to my hip and jerks me closer. “Tell me what you like.”
I don’t exactly mean to lean back against him, but it’s like he’s got a gravitational pull of his own and I’m helpless to resist it. He drags his hand from my shoulder and down around to my stomach, splaying his fingers out and holding me in place as he keeps kissing my neck. I’m hardly in my early twenties, recovering in the space of seconds, but my cock twitches all the same.
“Adonis,” he murmurs against my skin. “Tell me.”
The truth is that I’m not entirely certain I’d dislike anything he does to me. I don’t know how I got to this place, but it feels so good to let my brain click off and my body take over. To submit, just a little, and let someone else shoulder the worries that have plagued me for weeks.
Even if they’re still there, lingering at the edges of my mind, along with my broken heart and far too much anger.
I will not think about her. Not now. Not in the midst of this.
He nips the spot where my shoulder meets my neck and the words spill out. “I want it slow.”
Theseus’s hand on my stomach shakes, just a little. “You really are the little romantic, aren’t you?” I can’t help tensing, waiting for derision or mocking, but he just sounds as faintly wondering as he looked earlier. He sets his teeth against my skin. Not quite a bite, but it makes me jump all the same. “You want me to fuck you like I love you.”