Electric Idol(Dark Olympus #2)(57)

“You could say that.” He doesn’t move, but the tendons stand out in his neck.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” My first taste of him makes me giddy. No, it makes me drunk. Is this what he feels when he goes down on me? No wonder he was famished this morning.

I lick my way down Eros’s cock, savoring every inch of him. Savoring his reaction even more. Every muscle in his body looks carved from stone, as if he’s straining to hold perfectly still, to submit to my mouth and not take control of this interaction. It’s breathtakingly sexy to feel this powerful.

But I don’t want his restraint. Later, maybe—when reality sets in and brings regret and a determination to protect my soft emotional center—but not right now. How far will he allow me to push him before his control shatters?

There’s only one way to find out.





19


Eros

This woman is going to kill me. I’m trying so fucking hard to respect the boundaries she put in place, to play this slow until I can seduce her the way she deserves, can prove to her that she has nothing to fear from me, and Psyche is over here, playing her tongue along my cock, her hazel eyes flaring in a challenge it takes everything I have not to meet.

For a woman who claims we only feel desire for each other as a side effect of stress, she certainly watches me like she wants me to drag her up my body and fuck her until neither of us can walk right.

Again.

I don’t wrap her hair around my fist the way I want to. I can’t trust myself right now. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“We’ve already established that on multiple levels.” She gives me a slow smile and drags the head of my cock over her full lips. The softest touch that has me fighting not to come on the spot.

“Psyche.” I can’t keep the warning from my tone. Can’t keep the growl out, either.

Her only response is to part her lips and swallow me down. Gods, I might be destined for Tartarus, but the pure pleasure in this moment makes it almost worth it. Who cares what the afterlife brings when I’m being treated to this slice of perfection right now?

Psyche doesn’t let me sink into the moment. She releases me and flicks her tongue against the sensitive spot at the head of my cock. She’s watching me so closely, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s trying to provoke me.

I want her to. Fuck, I’m enjoying my time with her more than I could have dreamed. She challenges me at every turn, and I didn’t anticipate how much I’d come to crave that.

But I promised. “Either suck my cock properly or I’m going to do something we both regret.”

“That would be a shame.” She holds my gaze as she drags her tongue down my length like she’s licking a melting ice cream cone. “Such a shame if you lost control.”

She doesn’t know what she’s asking for.

I don’t know if I can resist giving it to her despite that.

I move slowly, giving her plenty of time to react, and wrap my fist around the long length of her hair. “Last chance.”

She flicks her tongue against my balls and I lose it. I drag her up my body. Too rough. Too fucking rough. Not that Psyche seems to care. She practically throws herself at my mouth, kissing me with none of the teasing she exhibited during that blow job.

I roll, toppling her back to the bed, and thrust against her. Some dark part of me wants to take her up on the invitation of her lifted hips, her thighs spreading to welcome me. It would be the most natural thing in the world to slip inside her now, to fuck her without anything between us.

Stop.

I manage to muscle down the desire, but only barely. “Do not move.”

“Better hurry then.” She slides a hand between our bodies and wraps her fist around my cock. “I’m needy.”

Shock stills me. I hold perfectly still as she rubs her pussy against my length. The woman is playing chicken with my control. “Psyche.”

She shivers. “I really, really like it when you say my name like that.”

“You wouldn’t if you recognized what it meant.” I lower myself onto her, letting my weight pin her in place and keep either of us from doing something unforgivably reckless. Gods, she feels good. Arching and straining and writhing against me. I have to close my eyes to focus. “If you knew what I wanted—”

“Tell me.” The sheer need in her voice shreds my control. I can feel it snapping, thread by thread. Her next words only make it worse. “Tell me you’re spinning out just as much as I am. Tell me I’m not in the depths alone.”

I can’t deny the thread of fear in her voice, can’t stop myself from wanting to assuage it even if it means I scare her in different ways. I curse. “I want to fuck you bare.” Damn it, what am I saying? It’s too much, too intense. Not that it matters. I can’t fucking stop. “I want to tie you to my bed and help myself to every bit of you on my whim. To tease you and fuck you and make you come until you know exactly who you belong to.”

She inhales harshly. “I belong to myself.”

I know that. It’s part of what makes her so unforgivably attractive to me. Just one of the many puzzle pieces that come together to form this woman who I can’t get enough of. “You didn’t ask me for the truth. You asked what I want.”