Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Don’t.”
Icarus raises an eyebrow. “Don’t what?”
It’s difficult to think with my heartbeat pounding along my hard length. Difficult to think with him looking at me like that, slightly impatient and yet indulgent at the same time. I drag in a breath and try to think clearly enough to form proper sentences. “You don’t have to say stuff like that.”
“I know,” he says simply. “But I want to. Why does it make you so uncomfortable to be complimented?”
My mouth works, but no sound comes out. I swallow hard. “Can we talk about this later?”
“No.” His tone goes hard. “Answer the question, Poseidon.”
I desperately don’t want to. There’s no escaping him, his touch, his gaze, his dominance. Even as I look up to the ceiling, I can feel him. “I know who I am—what I am. I know that you hate me, even if you desire me. I asked for honesty.”
“Look at me.”
I’m helpless to do anything but obey. The cruelty on his face is gone, replaced by something I have no name for. It’s intense, though. Icarus sits back on his heels but doesn’t release me. “I promised you honesty in the bedroom, and I’m being honest when I compliment you.”
“Icarus—”
“No, you’re going to listen.” It should be absurd to have this conversation with him on his knees and my cock out. Somehow, it’s not. He tugs my underwear down a few inches, and then a few more. “You’re so fucking sexy, it drives me to distraction. I like your combination of strong and soft. Your freckles make me wild. And…” He leans forward and drags his tongue up the length of my cock. “I can’t get enough of your taste.” Icarus looks up at me, his deep-brown eyes luminous. “I can’t wait to eat you right up.”
19
Icarus
I thought I’d experienced something resembling power while playing bedroom games with Aeaea’s most influential people. It’s nothing compared to the feeling filling me now, with Poseidon standing over me, his heart in his amber eyes. Little tremors work their way through his body. I need to get him on his back soon, before he collapses.
I wish I had a whole dungeon’s worth of toys to use on him. I want silk sheets, enough lube to drown in, and nothing but time. I don’t have any of it.
Speaking of… “Do you have lube and condoms here?”
He swallows visibly. “Yes. Nightstand.”
I stroke my thumb up the underside of his cock. “If I tell you to get ready for me, do you know what I’m asking?”
Another of those surprisingly sweet swallows. He’s so nervous, I’d think he was a virgin if I didn’t know any better. But he essentially is, isn’t he? He’s never had me before. Never played games of pain and kink. The realization kindles something hot and fierce in my chest. I don’t understand it, so I tuck the feeling away to examine later.
“I know what you mean.”
I push to my feet, my knees creaking a little. The carpet is thin in the apartment, the floor probably concrete beneath it. Definitely not made for kneeling for any length of time—something to keep in mind for Poseidon. He doesn’t move as I lean in and capture his bottom lip between my teeth. I bite down, drinking in his groan of pleasure. It’s all too tempting to keep going, to kiss him and drag him to bed, to forget what I promised him and revert back to my default as a selfish lover.
It’s strange that I don’t want to. I kiss him quickly and make myself step back. “Good. Go handle that.”
He seems a little dazed as he turns toward the bathroom, wobbling a little with each step. I lick my lips at his bubble ass. We’re racing the sun—we might have all night, but sunrise will come too soon. I don’t move until the bathroom door closes.
Only then do I exhale and drag a shaky hand through my hair. I’m somewhat limited on what I can accomplish for him without toys, but all that does is allow for delicious inventiveness. I pace from one side of the room to the other three times before I realize what’s driving the frenetic movement.
Nerves. I’m fucking nervous.
Last night was different. There was no time to worry that I might do something wrong, that I might disappoint him somehow. But for all that it was absolutely a full scene, it was a short one. Tonight, he’s looking for something more involved. I’m looking to give it to him.
I turn and study the bed. It has a simple headboard that looks a little too much like I imagine a jail cell would look—metal, square frame. I’ll make it work. I don’t have anything safe to bind him with, so I’ll make him bind himself. That’s a fun little head fuck.