She rose up on her toes, brought her mouth close to his. He drew in a sharp breath again, one that told her yes…yes, this was what they both needed. She didn’t know why, but an uncontrollable urge to prove that and so much more to him consumed her.
Just before she kissed him, he blocked her by bracing his hands against her shoulders. “Maelea, don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Yes, I do,” she whispered. “And trust me, Gryphon, we both need it.”
He went still as stone as she pressed her lips to his. His hands fell from her shoulders. She eased in closer, until the tips of her breasts brushed his skin. Skimming her lips over his again, she laid her hands against his hard, warm chest, her body growing more needy with each long, silent second that ticked by. Growing more frustrated too, because he wasn’t kissing her back the way she wanted.
Was he not as attracted to her as she thought? She’d been so sure this was what he wanted too. She lowered her heels to the floor, stared up at him in the dim light. Searched his eyes for what was holding him back.
Fear. Stark and raw. But not of her. He couldn’t be afraid of her, could he? No one had ever been scared of her.
“Gryphon,” she whispered.
A strangled groan rumbled from his chest. Then he snagged her at the waist and jerked her tight against his body before she could gasp.
And just as he lowered his mouth to hers, he whispered, “Skata. I do need you.”
Her mouth was everything he’d remembered and had been afraid to taste again. Warm, wet, inviting. She opened for him on reflex and drew his tongue inside without hesitation. Her fingers slid to his shoulders, dug into his skin as he kissed her. She tasted of darkness. Of hunger. Of need. Of heaven and hell and everything in between.
He groaned, changed the angle of the kiss so he could taste her deeper, pulled her tighter so he could feel her closer. His hardening erection pressed against the soft indent of her belly, sending shards of heat ricocheting through his groin. She moaned, and the darkness inside him hummed in pleasure. Vibrations that echoed through every inch of his skin, even as that place inside that had been broken since the Underworld lurched toward her, as if she were a magnet. As if she were the antidote to his pain. As if she were his very last chance for salvation.
Which she was. She was all that stood between him and insanity. Between him and the voice that had been calling to him since he’d left the Underworld. The one that made him twitch, made him want to claw his skin off, made him want to scream. And now he knew why. Because of the light inside her. The light that was counteracting the darkness simmering inside him. The light that was interfering with Atalanta’s hold on him. With her ability to summon him.
“Gryphon,” she whispered against his lips.
The sound of her voice drew him back. He stared down at her swollen lips, at her wide and aroused eyes, at that tangle of damp, dark hair around her face. Did it matter why he was attracted to her? Did it matter if it was the darkness of the Underworld pushing him? If he’d met her in his old life, would he have wanted her as much as he did right this second?
She brushed her thumb against his bottom lip. And everything inside him tightened as her eyes hovered on his mouth. Gods, she was beautiful, with her pale skin, the mole near her eye, that small button nose. His cock swelled against his zipper as he gazed at her, as her small breasts pressed into his chest. Desire stoked the roaring need already building to explosive levels.
Yes, he realized as she skimmed her mouth against his again, as she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him with more urgency, more intensity. He’d have wanted her. He fisted the fabric of her shirt at the base of her spine and opened to her, drawing her wet, tempting tongue into his mouth and kissing her the way she was kissing him. He’d noticed her months ago in the courtyard of the colony. From the confines of his room, staring out at her through the window, he hadn’t been able to feel the light inside her. He’d been attracted to her simply because of her beauty, her secrets, and the way she’d looked up at him with the same longing he felt deep in his soul.
He turned her, slid his hands over the soft globes of her ass, lowered her to the bed. The mattress dipped. She gasped, then moaned and opened her legs, making room for him, drawing him even closer to her heat. He slanted his mouth over hers and stroked his tongue across hers, found the hem of her shirt, and ran his fingers along her smooth, enticing skin. And when he trailed his fingers up her rib cage and finally found her breast, he groaned all over again.
No bra. She was naked beneath the thin cotton. She must have taken off her undergarments when she got out of the shower. The thought of her wearing nothing beneath those pants made him kiss her even harder.
He squeezed her breast, then pinched her nipple with his fingers. She shivered and moaned against his mouth, lifted her hips, ground against his throbbing erection. “Yes, gods, yes, Gryphon. I want you.” Her hands shifted down his back to his ass. She gripped and pulled, grinding his cock against the heat between her legs, making him that much harder. “I need you.”
Her last three words filtered through his mind. They were the same ones he’d said to her numerous times. As she continued to kiss him, awareness trickled in. She was Persephone’s daughter, the offspring of the Queen of the Underworld, which meant she had the same darkness inside her that he did. The same darkness that had been gifted to him by Krónos, that son of a bitch. She likely felt the same draw toward him that he felt toward her. The same pull. And that meant her reaction to him now was likely a result of that darkness and not her attraction to him, the person.
She knew how crazy he was. Everyone at the colony did. He’d seen the stark fear in her eyes when he captured her in that orchard, when he dragged her into the tunnels, when they were trapped near that river. And he’d seen the anger erupt inside her when they escaped those tunnels and he told her he wasn’t letting her go.
Her mother was a manipulator, her father a righteous prick. She’d lived over three thousand years, no doubt knew exactly how to get what she wanted. And up until just a few minutes ago, what she wanted was to get away from him.
I kidnapped Zeus and Persephone’s daughter. If they find out—
They won’t. Not if you let me go tonight.
I can’t.
Can’t or won’t?
She was playing him. Reality settled in hard, latched on tight. This wasn’t about her wanting him. This was about her distracting him. Did she have a weapon on her? Was she planning to strike out when he was so overcome with lust, he dropped his defenses? Or was she going to take things all the way, fuck him until he passed out, then run when he was sound asleep?
Anger replaced desire. Disgust rolled through his stomach instead of heat. As she continued to kiss him like a lust-driven slut, he pulled the cuffs from his pocket. Slowly, he slid his hand from under her shirt, grasped her wrist, and pushed it over her head. She lifted her hips again, tilted her head and licked into his mouth. And before she could work the fingers of her other hand beneath the waistband of his pants, he slapped the cold metal over her wrist.
She pulled back from his lips. “What the…?”
He climbed off her, slapped the other cuff around the metal railing of the headboard, and snapped it closed.
“Gryphon!” She jerked upright. Pulled hard on her arm. Metal jangled against metal. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”