And he was dangerous with fury now. Angry with the men who’d wronged him, angry with the Nightstalkers for fucking with him and his kin, angriest with me for being seventeen years old, off-limits and constantly in his face.
“You get me,” he murmured darkly, reading my thought through my hammering pulse under his thumb. “You want to get up on this counter and offer your sweet, wet cunt to me. Open up those golden thighs nice and wide under that little skirt so I can see exactly what it is you’re offerin’ me. I’ll teach you to touch that pretty pussy for me until you’re so wet I can smell it, then you’ll come exactly when I tell you to, and we’ll see if you’re good enough to be mine.”
“Yes,” I hissed, tipping my head back in his grip like a beta wolf submitting to her Alpha.
With one hand at my throat and the other at my ass, he hefted me on the counter and grinned that wicked grin. “Open wide.”
I stretched my thighs open as far as the counter would let me and swallowed thickly again as he flipped up my skirt to expose the seam of my slit, overstuffed with a swollen clit and plump, glistening lips.
“Spread yourself open for me,” he ordered as he took a step back, crossed his thick arms over his thick chest and leaned a hip against the counter to watch me with half-lidded but fervent eyes.
I used two fingers to hold myself open for him, feeling the heat of his eyes on the wet pink skin like a physical touch.
“Two fingers on your clit, gentle circles so it stands up nice and high for me.”
“Oh God.”
“You feel you’ve gotta pray to get through this ’fore I give you the okay to come, you do that, little girl,” he drawled. “Now dip one of those little fingers into that tight cunt but careful not to break the seal. My cock’ll do that soon enough.”
Holy fuck, he was fire and I was wax, melting under his attentions. My wetness trickled under my ass and onto the counter.
“Harder on your clit, another finger in your pussy,” he told me a minute later.
My eyes closed as I tossed my head back. It was too much, his voice coiled around me like wicked bondage, my fingers attached to puppet strings he maneuvered over my sticky flesh.
“Eyes on me,” he barked.
I opened them with effort but was rewarded by the sight of him palming the huge bulge in his black jeans. My mouth opened and my tongue darted into the air as if I could taste him.
His lids fell even lower, his voice a deep rumble as he said, “You come for me really pretty, Lou, I’ll reward you with my cock next time we play.”
“What if I want it now?” I dared to ask.
I watched his eyes flare open then sink back down. “You want me, you do what I tell you to do, little girl.”
A full body shudder ripped through me.
He stalked closer and leaned down to stare at my pussy like I was some interesting painting on display in a gallery. I watched him watch my fingers churn through my juicy pussy and knew I was close to coming.
So did Zeus.
“You can come whenever,” he muttered then blew a cool gust of air over my clit, leaned forward and gave it a short, wide lick with the flat of his tongue.
The sight of his head and broad shoulders between my thighs tuned me from solid to liquid. He watched my cum splash out against my fingers, watched me jerk against the counter and whimper. Then, when I was finally done, he used a single finger to follow a trail of wet up my inner thigh and then licked it off his skin.
“Good girl,” he praised with dark eyes.
I narrowed my droopy eyes at him and closed my legs over his hand. “You sound surprised.
“Can’t surprise a man like me, little girl. I’ve seen it all.”
“Yeah?” I taunted, too vulnerable and hating his coldness. “Because you’re an old man?”
“No, ’cause I’ve seen more in one year of my life than most people ever see in the entirety of theirs. I’ve seen grown men weep, loved ones kill loved ones over money and greed, little girls get shot because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and other kids hungry in the fuckin’ dirt ’cause their parents are too weak ass to provide for ’em.”
“Seems like all you’ve seen is bad,” I ventured softly, my anger cooled by the travesty of his words.
His gaze collided with me like a hand at my neck, squeezing and lifting until I felt unbalanced, unable to breathe.
“Saw you in the parking lot of First Light with velvet fuckin’ bows in your hair lookin’ at me like I was your saviour. Saw you drunk as fuck outside Nova’s girl Lila’s house lookin’ like somethin’ I dreamed up even stinkin’ like you did. Saw you again in this club in hardly anythin’ at all charmin’ near everyone around you with that halo of good you wear in your golden hair… Little girl, I told you, I’ve seen it all. But until you, didn’t know if any of it was worth it.”
He closed the sliver of space between us then spread his whole hand across my chest, over the spot where the scar we shared rested beneath my shirt. “Need to make sure you were cool with it, the monster in real life. Now I do, you need to know. I was serious about not lettin’ ya go. And by that, I mean fuckin’ ever.”
I snaked my arms around his back and pressed him to me, relief and love so bright a thing in my chest, it burned.
“The first seventeen years of my life, I fasted. I kept my body clean and my spirit pure. Now, I want to feast like a glutton, spread lust on my breakfast toast, shoot violence and sip greed. And I want you to teach me, sinner man, because you’re the only man for the job,” I told him.
His workingman’s hands abraded the sensitive skin of my neck as he worked them up my throat to cup my face in his wide palms. My breath caught in my throat as I wondered if this would finally be the time he’d kiss me. If this would be the kiss I’d been waiting for in one way or another since I was seven years old.
His thumb ran the length of my jaw then up to pull down my full lower lip. My tongue came out to taste the salt of my sex on his thumb and his eyes flashed like neon lights. I gasped as he dipped down to glide his tongue over the inside of my pouting lip then groaned low in his chest like a beast after his first taste of blood, and sealed his mouth to mine.
He tasted like whiskey and smoke, hot and sinful on my tongue and I knew if wickedness had a taste, it would be him. I moaned as he tilted my head and plunged deeper, his tongue like hot silk in my mouth and his beard rough against my cheeks. I sank my fingers in his soft, tangled mane and clung to him mindlessly because no amount of little girl dreaming or hoping could have prepared me for the earth-tilting reality of Zeus’s mouth on mine.
When he pulled back, he smoothed that thumb over my kiss-bruised lips, his eyes reverent and dark with the kind of desires a virgin couldn’t understand. I shivered as he bent his knees so we were on eye level and said, “Welcome to the dark side, then, little Lou.”
The Waterford China was out.
I walked into my four-story mansion on the corner of Mulberry Rd. and Pinewood St. and noticed the set-up immediately through the open door across the marble-floored foyer. The room was littered with fractured gold shards of light from the low hanging, six-tiered chandelier over the formal dining room table and the soft swell of Beethoven played over the surround sound system.