Desire rushed through his body, so much more insistent than ever before. He groaned, pulled her close.
She tore her mouth from his. “Sit.”
The cushions dipped under his weight as she pushed him down. She immediately dropped to her knees, tugged the jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and dropped them on the floor. She stripped him of his shirt, and when she had him naked, when he was so hard he hurt, she finally bent and took him into her mouth.
Ah, gods. He dropped his head back against the couch. Threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair as her lips closed around his shaft and her tongue ran along the underside his cock. After a week alone together, she knew exactly what he liked. Which strokes made him shiver. How much suction could leave him weak. Just how deep he liked to press into her mouth.
She took him as deep as she’d ever done, cupped his balls, raked her nails across the sensitive flesh until the wicked sensations erupted in every inch of his skin. He groaned again, thrust up to meet her. And just when the first twitch of his orgasm barreled close, she let go with her mouth, climbed over him, straddled his hips and slowly lowered.
They both groaned as he filled her. His eyes opened, locked on hers. He closed his arms around her hips as she took him as deep as possible. “Maelea—”
She leaned forward until the tips of her breasts brushed his chest, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and flexed her hips, rocking slowly on his lap, grinding against him until he saw stars. “I love you, Gryphon. Nothing else matters to me. Nothing from before can change that. This…you and me together now…this is all that matters.”
Emotions overwhelmed him. So many he couldn’t speak. He cupped the back of her head with one hand, closed his mouth over hers, kissed her with all the urgency inside him.
A groan fell from her lips as his tongue swept into her mouth. And when his other arm tightened around her waist, when he turned her on the couch and pushed her to her back, then braced one knee on the floor, she dug her fingers into his shoulders, kissed him as if she couldn’t get enough.
“Maelea…”
He wanted to tell her what was in his heart. Couldn’t seem to get the words out. His thrusts picked up speed. His fingers gripped her thigh and hip. And his cock grew even longer and thicker inside her.
She pushed up on her hands, thrust back against him, and tightened everything. “Take me, Gryphon. I’m yours. Only yours.”
His release consumed him, overwhelmed him, shook his body so hard he gasped. She shuddered with her own release, and before he realized what was happening, electricity shot down his spine and exploded in his hips as he came all over again. Something he never thought he could do so soon.
Electrical shocks still rippled through his cells as he groaned and fell against her. She wrapped her arms around his sweaty shoulders, kissed his temple, ran her fingers through his hair, and just held on.
Love—her love—was more than he’d ever expected. More than he’d dreamed of. More than he deserved. But he wasn’t about to waste it.
Long minutes passed before his muscles came back to life, but when they did, he lifted his head, looked up at her dark, mesmerizing eyes, at her face flushed from her orgasm, at her skin slick with sweat. And knew from the bottom of his heart that even if she wasn’t his soul mate, she was worth living for. She was everything he was fighting for.
He brushed a lock of hair away from her face then skimmed his thumb over her cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Gryph—”
“But I want you,” he said before she could protest. “I’ll always want you. You are the heart that beats inside my chest. That gives me life.” His throat grew thick. “I love you too, Maelea. Without you, I am nothing.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she kissed him. His lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Show me,” she whispered, lifting her hips and drawing him deep all over again. “One more time.”
With lips that devoured hers, he did.
Hades knew how to bide his time. He was a patient god. One who’d spent thousands of years waiting for his moment to shine. This, like so many others, was just one more step along the road to ultimate control.
He waited in the trees outside the city of Tiyrns in the Argolean realm. Because he wasn’t an Olympian, he could cross into the blessed realm, wasn’t limited to the same rules Zeus had saddled the other Olympians with. Which was lucky for him.
Unlucky for him, though, was the fact he couldn’t enter the queen’s castle. Some power there kept him out. Even when he used his cap of invisibility. Life would be so much easier if people didn’t fuck with the laws of nature.
Of course, then it might not be as fun.
Twigs cracked, and he looked through the dark trees toward the sound. Silently rejoiced when he saw the source. The boy was just as Hades’s spies had told him. Young, naïve, as blond as his father, and with those Argonaut markings on his forearms, the perfect prey.
He waited until young Maximus grew closer. Then finally called out, “Do they know you’re out here alone?”
Max’s head darted up, and his silver eyes narrowed. “Wh-who’s there?”
Hades smiled. Any of the Argonauts would know him for who he was, but young Maximus was too green. He might sense power, but because his father, in an attempt to protect the youth, had yet to begin his Argonaut training, he couldn’t distinguish one god from another. And thanks to Hades’s very clever disguise, that was another point in Hades’s favor.
“I think you know exactly who I am,” Hades said without rising.
Max stepped through the trees, his eyes widening. “Oh my gods, you’re a Fate.”
Hades smiled, and a sick thrill rushed through him at this little ruse. “Call me”—the bitch—“Lachesis.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you, boy. I know why you wander in these trees alone. Why you don’t tell your mother where you’ve gone. Why you distance yourself from others your age. I know about your time in the Underworld.”
Sickness spread over the boy’s face. He looked down at his feet, kicked a twig with his sneaker.
“I also know,” Hades went on, “that your parents don’t understand you. That they think you’re nothing but a weak child.”
Max’s head darted up, and his eyes flashed a stormy gray. “I’m not weak. And I’m not a child.”
Oh, he was, though. Only eleven, maybe twelve. And though he had powers yet untapped, he was still nothing but an inexperienced, albeit haunted, child.
Hades’s smile widened, the diaphanous robe like the one Lachesis normally wore all but glowing around him. “There is a way to prove them wrong.”
“How?” Max asked with curiosity.
“Oh, I think you know, child. Whom do they protect you from? Whom do they think you’re not strong enough to face? Who holds power over you, even here?”
Max’s eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched under his smooth skin. “Atalanta,” he whispered.
Children were so fucking predictable.
“So face her,” Hades said, fighting the smile. “Prove yourself to them.”
“I—I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”
“You were strong enough to escape. You were strong enough to stay alive. How did you do that, if you were nothing but weak?”
Max stared at the base of a tree, and Hades could practically see the wheels turning in his blond head. “The Orb of Krónos.”
Bingo.
Hades smiled, careful not to give too much away. “With it you can do anything.”
“But how—?”
A little nudge was all the kid needed. Hades faded into nothing. “Good luck, child.”