Electric Idol(Dark Olympus #2)(52)

If I have my way, she’ll be in a permanent state of need.

I allow her to tug me up to kiss her again. Kissing Psyche is no hardship. She doesn’t passively take what I give her. She meets me every step of the way, sparring with her tongue the same way she does with her words. A game of give-and-take and pure pleasure. I enjoy kissing. I always have. But kissing this woman could almost be the main event.

Or it could if I didn’t have her naked and writhing beneath me.

I slide down her body, pressing her large breasts together so I can tease one nipple and then the other, moving back and forth between them until she’s whimpering and arching, offering herself up for more than a taste. Only then do I shift lower, licking and nipping down the curves of her breasts to her stomach. She tenses the slightest bit, but I’m having none of it. I give this part of her the same thorough treatment I gave her breasts. Each curve, dimple, roll. I meant everything I said; she’s perfect and I’ll not be kept from any inch of her.

When I finally reach her pussy, her thighs fall open. She’s no longer trying to guide me or rush any moment of this. She’s letting me do what I want, and I fucking love it. Her trust is just as heady as her taste. Psyche is wet and practically dripping, and I waste no time in dragging my tongue up her pussy to her clit.

Gods, this woman.

Her hands find my hair on the second lick, and she tugs me up to focus on her clit. I’m only too happy to take the silent guidance, especially as her hips rise to meet my tongue. She’s moaning and grinding herself all over my mouth, and I have to force my hips still to avoid fucking against the mattress until I come in my pants.

That’s the second time today.

I might laugh if I could breathe past the need pounding in my blood. Psyche has stripped away all my art, all my finesse. The only thing that matters is delivering pleasure until she can’t take any more. Not even my pleasure ranks above that.

When she comes, it’s with the sweetest sound I’ve ever fucking heard. Her back bows and her lips part and… “Eros.”

Holy shit.

The monster inside me throws itself against its cage, rattling my entire being. She cried out my name as she orgasmed. It shouldn’t feel so profound, but there’s no denying the surge of possessiveness that stills every thought in my head except the need to get inside her and do it now. I have to press my forehead to her stomach and focus on breathing for a few moments.

It’s time.

I force myself to release her and move off the bed. She watches me with eyes gone hazy from pleasure, her desire sharpening as I shuck off my pants and grab a condom from the nightstand drawer. I crawl back onto the bed and resume my position between her thighs. It’s a struggle to think past the primal urge to stamp my presence on every inch of her, but I manage. Barely. “Let me have you, Psyche.” The words are wrong; they mean too much, reveal too much.

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s already nodding. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Good.” I rip open the condom and roll it down my length. Slowly, oh so slowly, I brace myself over her and guide my cock to her entrance. She lifts her hips, welcoming me even as I try to remember why I need to ease my way into this.

Fuck it.

I work my way into her in short, unrelenting strokes. My breath is just as choppy as hers. I think I’m moaning, but I can’t fucking tell over the rushing in my ears as I finally, finally, sink into her to the hilt. She feels even better than I could have dreamed. Like she’s made just for me. I’m too far gone to care about the danger of thinking like that. I can’t help thrusting a little, watching her face as I do.

She bites her bottom lip. A clear invitation if I’ve ever seen one. I’m only too happy to take her up on it, dipping down and claiming her mouth the same way I’m claiming her body. She might not see it that way, but I can’t help the way I feel. It’s my problem. I’ll deal with it later.

I have every intention of going slow, but she digs her nails into my ass, urging me on, and what little control I had left snaps. I slide my arms under her to grip her shoulders to give me better leverage and fuck her in long, intense strokes. I’ve gone too far already. I can’t stop, can’t slow down. Even if I wanted to, she’s urging me on with a ferocity that puts my own fierceness front and center.

“You feel so fucking good, Psyche.” I thrust hard, loving the way she moans in response. “All tight and wet and made just for me.”

“Eros.” She’s gasping and panting and still trying to urge me on. “More. Harder.”

I give up doing anything but exactly what she demands of me. I fuck her hard enough that the slap of flesh against flesh fills the room, punctuated by words I can’t keep inside. “Once more, beautiful girl. I want to feel you coming around my cock. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“So good.” She whimpers and then her nails are on my back, biting in hard enough that I’ll be wearing her marks tomorrow. Fierce satisfaction lashes me. There’s no taking this back, just like there’s no taking back my ring on her finger and hers on mine. No matter what else happens, tomorrow there will be no pretending this was all a dream. We’re grounded too firmly in reality.

I adjust my angle, working to give her clit the friction she needs to get there before I do. She’s only too happy to help me, pressing her heels to the mattress to grind herself against my pelvic bone. Psyche becomes frantic. “Eros, please. Please, please, please.”