“At least I won’t be alone then.”
He knew her words were meant as a joke, but they hit. Hard. Smack in the center of the chest. And when nothing else broke through his raging need, that did.
His conscience pushed in, dragged reality on its heels. Yeah, he wanted her to the infinite power, but this…this was wrong. This couldn’t happen. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid for too damn long.
“Isadora. Wait.”
“No more waiting. I’ve been doing that my whole life.” She eased back. Her inner thighs brushed the outside of both of his. Her fingers found his cock again and she drew her hand up slowly, the sensation so intense it messed with his resolve. “I’m tired of waiting, Demetrius.”
“You don’t know what’s at stake here. You don’t know—”
“Yes, I do,” she whispered. “I know exactly what’s at stake. Everything.”
He sucked in a breath as she settled over him, brought the tip of his erection so close it brushed her folds. “Let me…” Oh, fuck, she was so wet. Wet and hot and his. He swallowed hard. “Let me pleasure you.”
“I intend to.”
Panic rushed in as she ran his shaft over her clit, sighed in pleasure, and did it again. If she kept that up, he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself. “Let me use my mouth.”
She stilled over him, and her rich brown eyes lifted to rest on his face. In that one look he saw she wasn’t quite as confident as she seemed. “Don’t you want to make love with me?”
Something in his chest cracked open. The sound of her voice, the look in her eyes, the feel of her body ready to take him in…he wasn’t sure what caused it. But it cracked open wide, right there for her. “Yes,” he whispered. “Gods, yes.”
“Okay, then,” she said in a decisive voice as she moved back into place.
“Wait.” She was rushing things. She wasn’t ready. If she was bound and determined to do this, he wanted to make sure she enjoyed it. And he needed to cool himself down about ten thousand degrees before that happened so he’d stay in complete control. “Slow down. Let my arms go. Give me a minute to—” The head of his cock found her opening, and she sank down, just until he was buried inside her one reaching inch.
She gasped and froze. He groaned, closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw to the point of pain to keep from thrusting up into her scorching heat. She was so tight he was afraid he’d come right there and then if he did. “Kardia…”
She braced her hands against his chest. Her fingernails dug into his skin. And when she didn’t move a single muscle, only breathed deeply above him as if she were in pain, he finally realized she wasn’t nearly as close to going over the edge as he was.
His eyes popped open. He focused on her face, scrunched up tight. Then remembered that she was the heir to the throne. And female. And as such, by law, untouched. In every sense of the word. “Isadora—”
“You’re bigger than I thought,” she gasped. “Just…just give me a minute.”
“Let my hands go.”
“I…can’t,” she managed. “I’m…having a little trouble remembering the words of the spell right now.”
He glanced at the book, just out of his reach. Knew he wouldn’t be able to reach it without hurting her more. “Then give me your fingers.”
“My—?”
“Your fingers. Put them in my mouth.”
She looked at him as if he were insane, but listened and eased her weight onto her left hand. Slowly she brought her right hand to his mouth. He sucked her index and middle finger, got them good and wet, then pushed them from his mouth and said, “Touch yourself.”
She hesitated; a flush rose up in her cheeks. And he couldn’t help thinking how sexy she was right this minute. His command embarrassed her, but she wasn’t embarrassed over the fact she’d tied him up, seduced the hell out of him, and now held him on the brink of sexual frustration. Nodding encouragement, he watched with rapt attention as she carefully lowered her hand, found her clit, and rubbed a slow, easy circle around the hard little nub.
“Oh…” Her body relaxed one muscle at a time. Her eyes slid closed. Her perfect face transformed from taut and scared to flushed with desire all over again. And as she worked her fingers over herself and he felt her growing wetter with each brush and stroke, he lifted his hips, a fraction at a time, deeper with every thrust, until finally he was seated fully inside her and her hips rested against his.
She opened her mesmerizing eyes, seemed startled at what he’d done. “That didn’t hurt.”
Not for her. But he had a feeling for him the pain was just beginning. “Let my hands go.”
She glanced at his arms pinned back behind his head and bit her lip in indecision. “Let’s wait on that.”
Her mouth closed over his and her tongue slid out to tangle with his. She moved her hips slightly and gasped into his mouth and he realized, bloody hell, she wasn’t gonna let him go.
The knowledge superheated his blood, juiced him to within degrees of boiling. His cock jerked inside her, teased by what was possibly the most erotic moment of his life. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—give in. This was about her. He could grit his teeth and ride it out. And when she finally came around him, he’d pull out before it was too late.
Her hips picked up speed. He watched her ride through heavy-lidded eyes, marveled at how beautiful she was, slicked with sweat and on the verge of orgasm.
He wanted this. He wanted her. He was inside her—finally—and every stroke and glide…it was the most incredible feeling in the world.
“Gods, yes. Ride me, kardia. Let me have your mouth.” She answered with a kiss that stole his breath and pushed his hips higher, searching for that spot he knew she needed rubbed most. And when she tensed, when she pulled back and stared into his eyes and he saw she was close, he thrust harder, deeper, until she braced her hands against his chest, cried out her pleasure, and came all around him in a soul-deep tremble he felt everywhere.
“Demetrius…”
That was his name on her lips. That was his body deep inside hers. She was his soul mate and the only person in this world or the next that mattered.
The sound of her release, the feel of her tight channel gripping him, pushed him over the edge. His climax slammed into him, raced down his spine, and exploded before he could stop it. Brilliant white light erupted behind his eyes, pierced the center of his chest, until the blackness he lived with every day had nowhere to go but out. In that one moment, he knew what it felt like to be home.
She collapsed against his chest, drew deep, shattering breaths. He kissed her temple, her hair, whatever he could reach, and tried to keep reality at bay.
But the afterglow didn’t last long. Now that his need was slaked, the truth rushed in on a tidal wave. Thanks to his never-ending weakness, nearly two hundred years of doing the right thing had just crashed and burned. And because of Hera’s curse, he’d most likely just given Atalanta exactly what she wanted.
Isadora’s heart raced so fast she thought it might sprout wings and fly right out of her chest. Sprawled over Demetrius, she breathed deeply and tried to steady her quaking pulse. “Wow…that was…I had no idea.”
“Let my hands go.”
She smiled, her entire body more relaxed than it had ever been, and pushed up to look down at him. Only when she saw the furrow in his brow and the way he was staring at the ceiling as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her, wariness pushed out the euphoric feeling and replaced it with dread. “What’s wrong?”