He was lovesick Hades, and I was Persephone, his once unwilling bride who now was all in.
His kiss and touch were sedate and deliberate as he peeled us out of our clothes. He was taking his time, and his unhurried hands were strange and exciting. Completely different from our desperate encounter when we’d struck our deal earlier tonight.
When there wasn’t a stitch of clothing left on our bodies, he fitted me tight to his waist and let me feel the hard, heavy weight of his cock against my center. Our warm, bare skin pressed to each other, my breasts flattened to his chest, and I swallowed a deep breath. His eyes locked onto mine, and the power of his stare leveled me. How was it possible I’d existed the first twenty-one years of my life and not seen the person he truly was? He’d hidden it so well.
And he’d seen me exactly as I was—better than anyone else.
He looked so beautiful like this. The outer edges of his irises were ringed in a darker color, like they’d been drawn first, outlined in navy and then filled in with a steely blue watercolor. His high cheekbones had only a faint shadow of darkness because he’d shaved before we left for dinner. As his gaze slipped down over my face, his lush lips parted, and he took in a slow, deep breath.
Watching him stare at me while longing painted his face was erotic.
I cupped his head in my hands and pulled him into a feverish kiss, eager to be connected to him in all ways. He was too but had better patience than I did. His hands, which were resting on my knees, smoothed up my thighs and over my hips, around my waist and up my back. His lips were sealed to mine, and his kiss advanced, easing me back against the couch cushions.
Royce’s warm mouth carved a trail down through the valley of my breasts, leaving cool, damp skin behind. The fire raging in the fireplace was hot, but it didn’t compare to my naked fiancé on his knees in front of me, steadily working his way toward the center of my legs. His kisses marched across my fluttering belly, and as he moved lower, he settled back on his legs, making himself more comfortable.
Like he planned to use his tongue to tease and pleasure me for a long while.
Goosebumps lifted and pebbled on my skin in the wake of his roaming hands, and my breath went ragged as he peered up at me from between my thighs, his mouth hovering only an inch away. Was he waiting for permission?
Or for me to start begging?
I was a heartbeat away from pleading with him to put his mouth on me before he set his hands on the spots where my legs met my body and used his thumbs to peel me open. All the air went out of the room when he leaned in.
One painfully slow lick made bliss crackle through my body.
I was a live wire beneath him. Every careful flick of his tongue caused me to jolt and jerk, but his hands held me steady. And his eyes—his fucking eyes—never let me go either, even when I closed mine because the image was too much to bear.
It was incendiary.
Tiny whimpers fell from my lips, and the tremble in my legs grew more intense. Royce knew how to make me come when he had his mouth on me. He could do it quickly if he wanted, faster still if he eased a finger deep inside me, but tonight he wasn’t going for speed or efficiency. He wanted to draw it out and build my orgasm up layer by lush layer.
I was restless, though. The sensations were more acute tonight, which meant the tingling anticipation was sharp and demanding. I craved release mindlessly, squirming against the cushions, and tried to get him to increase the stroke of his tongue. Speed or pressure or whatever the fuck he wanted to do—just as long as he gave me more.
The need inside me drove my hands into his dark brown hair. It forced labored breath in and out of my lungs. Could he feel how badly he made me quake? Each pass of his tongue injected pleasure and heat in me, gathering strength as I rolled toward my climax.
I bucked and moaned, but he didn’t let up. One of his hands slid to the inside of my thigh and pressed my leg back, opening me further to his indecent kiss and making my lower leg drape over his back. It pulled a loud, satisfied groan from my chest, and I reached behind me to grip the edge of the couch. If he kept this up much longer, it was possible I was going to scream. Maybe that was what he was waiting for.
My eyes fluttered open, and I looked down at him over my heaving chest, my nipples hardened into points. He gazed at me through hooded eyes, and I—
In spite of the fire and what Royce was doing to me, a cold draft washed down my spine. Something wasn’t right, but my mind was soaked in lust, and the fog made it difficult to pinpoint what had set me off.
Wait. The door.
Had Royce left it like that, or perhaps ajar, and the hinges had let it slowly swing away from the frame? Because the ornate door with its brass handle was currently open, revealing the empty hallway beyond.
Not empty, a warning voice in my mind whispered.
I peered through the doorway into the darkness, letting my eyes adjust to the form lurking there. As my gaze met his, Macalister stepped out of the shadows.
SEVEN
MACALISTER’S SILENT ENTRANCE TORE ME OPEN, poured hot lead inside, and then dumped me into the harbor. I sank into the depths, the pressure of the ocean water making it impossible to move or scream.
There weren’t words to describe his expression. He was angry, that much was clear, but a myriad of other emotions skulked in his eyes. Longing. Jealousy. Hurt.
Interest.
With his back to the door, Royce was unaware of the danger who had edged into our room and now stood towering just inside the doorway. He was too focused on what he was doing to understand I’d seized up because of an intruder and not his tongue caressing my clit.
When I opened my mouth to speak, he pushed his finger past my entrance and deep inside my body. The unexpected pleasure was so great, my mind fractured and my body bowed instinctively. I let go of his hair and latched my other hand behind me, my elbows pointed to the ceiling as I arched up, away from the couch.
My moan was louder than the sound of satisfaction Royce gave, and it wasn’t likely Macalister heard a thing besides me, anyway. He braced one hand on the doorframe, and the other that hung at his side curled into a white-knuckled fist.
All the control he had on himself was clutched in those fingers like a hand gripping reins, and the tense way he held his body screamed of the powerful chaos trapped inside. It was desperate for escape, for release.
His glacial eyes pierced mine as a harpoon and dragged me in, even as I tried to resist. He wordlessly demanded to know how could I do this to him.
The longer he stood there and stared at me, the angrier I became.
The door had been shut, I now knew that. This was still his house, and he owned everything inside, so he didn’t feel the need to knock. He’d come in here unannounced, perhaps to stop what he suspected was happening.
I’d told Macalister I was in love with Royce, but he wouldn’t accept it. A dark, sinister voice made a suggestion.
Show him.
I was vaguely aware it was a fucking terrible, dangerous idea, but he’d pushed me repeatedly to my breaking point, and I cruelly wanted to return the favor. My hands ached from how hard I gripped the back of the couch, but I tipped my chin down to my chest and glared at him through my heavy-lidded eyes.
Watch, I dared.
As he’d pointed out back when I’d lost in the hedge maze, it was nothing he hadn’t already seen. Macalister had stood beside the dining table the night of the initiation with an hourglass gripped in his hands while his son fucked me with both his mouth and his cock.